The night was quiet, save for the rustling of leaves under the whispering wind. The stars shimmered in the darkened sky, their cold light illuminating the Uchiha compound in patches of silver.
Fugaku spoke. "We need to talk."
"Now?" Renjiro finally asked after a brief moment, tilting his head slightly. Respect and annoyance warred in his tone, a knife's edge balanced between courtesy and contempt.
He had spent the entire evening pushing his body and mind beyond its limits, training with Kushina away from the suffocating scrutiny of the clan. And now, just as he was about to retire for the night, Fugaku appeared, demanding a conversation.
"Yes," Fugaku said firmly. His sharp gaze remained unreadable, though his posture was relaxed. "We've been looking for you everywhere in the clan. Where were you?"
Renjiro exhaled through his nose, suppressing the urge to scoff. "I was training," he answered simply.
Fugaku's lips pressed into a thin line. "Training outside the clan?"
Renjiro nodded, offering no further explanation.
He could feel Fugaku's scrutiny as an awkward silence settled between them. The air between them was thick with unspoken words, with history neither of them cared to address.
Ever since Renjiro had been welcomed into the Uchiha Clan, his relationship with Fugaku had been... civil. At one point, they had even grown close enough to consider each other acquaintances, especially after the mission they went on together all those years ago.
But all of that had changed when Renjiro revealed his resistance to Genjutsu Chakra Seinou.
From that moment on, an invisible barrier had formed between them. A barrier of disappointment, suspicion, and something far colder—distance.
Renjiro had never felt more like an outsider than he did at that very moment.
And now, staring at Fugaku, memories of his father, Daichi, surfaced like a rising tide. The raw anger that simmered beneath his skin ignited, threatening to consume him. His blood boiled at the mere thought of what Daichi had done to him—of how he had torn into his mind, stripping him bare, leaving him vulnerable and exposed.
Renjiro's hands clenched into fists before he quickly forced them to relax.
"Let's talk inside," he said at last, turning toward his house.
Fugaku followed but suddenly paused just outside the entrance. His keen senses picked up something—something strange.
The air here was thick, not with chakra, but with something else. His gaze flickered across the threshold, and his Sharingan spun to life, scanning the surroundings.
Seals.
Dozens, perhaps even hundreds, of intricate seals were doorframes, walls, and even the stepping stone of the house. Some of them were obvious—barrier seals, detection seals, reinforcement seals. But others... others eluded even his trained eyes.
'Too many. Too strange.' Fugaku's jaw tightened.
He couldn't even begin to count them all, let alone decipher their true purpose. And that unsettled him.
'What does he fear so much that he cages himself like this?' The elder Uchiha thought.
He didn't sense any immediate danger from them, which was a small relief, but the fact remained—he had no idea what some of, if not all, these seals were capable of. And that made them dangerous by default.
'What am I even thinking?' He chided himself.
'I'm only here to check on the boy before summoning him.'
Renjiro gestured inward. "Well, Come in then."
Stepping back, he exhaled slowly and changed course.
"Another Time," Fugaku stated suddenly, making Renjiro glance at him with narrowed eyes. "The clan head is summoning you."
Renjiro blinked. A flicker of confusion passed through his expression, but it was fleeting. He had trained himself well in masking his emotions, and within a heartbeat, his face settled back into an impassive stare.
'Well That isn't strange at all,' Renjiro thought to himself. 'Fugaku clearly wanted to talk to me first, but now he's saying that Daichi summoned me? Was that always his intention, or did he change his mind?'
The Uchiha clan was a place of power, but also of secrecy. Renjiro knew better than to take words at face value. He had spent enough time around these people to understand that the true meaning behind their words often lay in what was left unsaid.
"Fine," Renjiro muttered, rolling his shoulders. "Give me a moment to get ready."
Fugaku's brow twitched ever so slightly. Though it was a minor reaction, it did not escape Renjiro's notice. Making the clan head wait was, by all accounts, an insult—a quiet act of defiance that would be met with harsh consequences if it came from someone with less standing.
But instead of reprimanding him, Fugaku only exhaled through his nose and said, "As you wish."
While Renjiro appeared composed on the outside, internally, his mind was a storm of chaos.
His body moved on autopilot, hands reaching for a clean set of clothes as his mind spiralled into an abyss of calculations, strategies, and grim recollections.
The last time he had been face to face with Daichi, it had been nothing short of a disaster. The Clan head had pried into his mind, turning him into an open book, laying bare his deepest, darkest thoughts, well most of them, with that damned Mangekyō Sharingan ability.
And what disturbed Renjiro the most was that he still hadn't figured out a way to counter it.
Despite all his training, all his research, he had yet to find a technique that could shield him from the reach of that dreaded superior dōjutsu.
How do you fight something you can't even see coming?
Renjiro exhaled slowly. No—he had to stop thinking like that.
Eventually, he pushed down the lingering frustration and steeled himself.
He followed Fugaku through the empty, moonlit streets of the Uchiha compound, his steps slow and deliberate. The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain that had fallen earlier. Shadows stretched across the walls, distorting their figures as they walked in silence.
By the time they arrived at Daichi's office, it was the dead of night. The room was dimly lit, with only a few flickering lanterns casting a golden glow.
Renjiro stepped inside, his gaze immediately drawn to the two figures waiting within.
Daichi was seated at his usual spot, his presence commanding as ever, though his expression remained unreadable.
But he was not alone.
Beside him stood an old man, his face etched with lines of age and experience. His dark eyes held the sharpness of someone who had lived through countless battles, yet there was an air of wisdom to him as well.
Renjiro was certain he had seen this man before—perhaps even spoken to him—but he had never cared to remember his name.
The old man stepped forward, his voice raspy yet firm.
"I am Elder Toka," he introduced himself. "One of the elders of the Uchiha Clan."
Renjiro barely inclined his head in acknowledgement. He wasn't interested in formalities. He wanted to know why he was here.
Toka continued speaking, but before he could go any further, Daichi raised a hand.
The elder immediately fell silent.
A tense stillness settled over the room, thick enough to be suffocating.
Then, Daichi finally spoke.
"Renjiro," he said, his voice as cold and calculating as ever."I assume you've met my daughter, Nakada."
Renjiro's breath hitched. Nakada. The name conjured a blur of dark hair and sharper wit—Daichi's youngest child, a kunoichi rarely seen within the clan.
He silently nodded.
Daichi continued, tone devoid of inflexion, "What do you think of getting married to my daughter, Nakada?"
For the first time that night, Renjiro's composure cracked.
His breath hitched, his muscles tensed, and his eyes snapped toward Daichi, searching for any sign that this was some kind of twisted joke.
But Daichi's expression remained as unreadable as ever.
The words echoed in Renjiro's mind, but they refused to settle.
Marriage?
To Nakada?
Of all the things he had expected from this meeting, this had never even been a possibility.
=====
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