Throne Of The Uchiha

Return to the Village

"All good things must come to an end," Fugaku said as he looked at the assembled members of Team 009. "We'll meet again, if fate allows. After all, we're all shinobi of the same village. Be cautious on future missions. Disband."

Their time together ranged from three months to half a year, but those few months had been full of life-or-death missions. Though Fugaku rarely wore his emotions outwardly, he felt a quiet reluctance in his chest as they parted.

After the team dispersed, Fugaku didn't seek out his fellow Uchiha. Certain discussions were best saved for their return to the village.

He spent the next few days resting in a shared military encampment tent, waiting for the formal orders to withdraw from the Land of Rain. When the return command came, he joined the group heading back to the Hidden Leaf.

Konoha remained relatively stable at this time. The Nine-Tails incident had not yet occurred, and internal tensions among the major clans—though present—had not reached their boiling point. For now, the Uchiha still held a respected, if watchful, place in the village hierarchy.

As the clan's most promising young talent, Fugaku attracted attention—more so after his performance during the campaign in the Land of Rain. Word of his actions was bound to reach the upper echelons of the village: the elders, the Hokage, and Danzo Shimura. And not all would look kindly on a Uchiha gaining influence and distinction.

Fugaku had departed for the war alongside several Uchiha—including Uchiha Jin. But only half had survived. The others had perished in battle and were sent back to the village in scrolls bearing their cremated remains.

To Fugaku, the Uchiha—regardless of their strength or temperament—shared an unshakable pride. They would rather die with honor than retreat in shame.

In this era, Hashirama Senju's cells were still a forbidden enigma. Orochimaru had not yet begun his experiments, and Wood Release users were nonexistent. The Sharingan, even among Uchiha, was still rare and poorly understood outside the clan. To non-Uchiha, the transplant rejection rate remained dangerously high, so few dared to tamper with their bodies. Thus, the eyes of the fallen were mostly left intact and unplundered.

Looking at the surviving clan members around him, Uchiha Jin's expression was pale and tight with grief.

"Try to look ahead," Fugaku said calmly. "War is always cruel. They carried the pride of the Uchiha until the end. For them, that pride was more important than life itself. Having their names carved on the memorial stone is the best honor we can give them."

Jin nodded. As a ninja, he understood the risks. Still, seeing comrades—once sharing meals and laughter—reduced to memories was a heavy burden.

The unit left at dawn and returned to Konoha in two days.

The Konoha they returned to still bore the architectural and cultural legacy of the First Hokage. The wide-arched rooftops, the still-rustic Hokage Tower, and the relatively unchanged Uchiha district stood in quiet defiance of what would one day come.

As they entered the village, numerous Uchiha—donning their clan's fan crest—patrolled the streets. After the deaths of the previous Uchiha elders, the Police Force had been on constant alert, tightening surveillance and increasing their arrests of foreign spies and infiltrators.

Since the Uchiha's enforcement of martial law in select districts, security had improved, even if distrust from other clans and villagers had not fully faded.

At the Uchiha compound, clan head Uchiha Tenjo was already waiting, kneeling in his usual posture in the main room, his back straight and expression unreadable. Through his personal network, Tenjo already knew much of what had happened.

Fugaku pushed the door open, momentarily surprised to see his father there.

"Father," he said, bowing. "I've returned. The mission went smoothly."

Tenjo nodded. "The Hokage's office informed me yesterday. You'll receive a two-month leave along with the others returning from Rain. No reassignment until after that."

He paused, then continued, "For now, I don't want you in the Military Police."

Fugaku listened silently, knowing his father's reasoning would be more strategic than emotional.

"You've already surpassed most of your peers," Tenjo said. "The Hokage's advisors have taken note. If you stagnate in a post like the Guard, your edge will dull. And that is something neither you nor the clan can afford."

Fugaku nodded slightly. His father was right. The Police Force—though powerful politically—rarely saw true combat. It could become a gilded cage.

"I understand. I'll continue serving in the standard shinobi ranks," Fugaku replied. "Also… during the Rain campaign, sealing techniques proved incredibly useful. I'd like to spend my leave learning them."

"Good," Tenjo said. "We have a few scrolls on sealing. You can begin tomorrow. But beyond that, you'll need to earn more—either through missions or forging the right connections."

Fugaku nodded in agreement. In the shinobi world, nothing of value came easily.

The two spoke well into the afternoon, their discussion ranging from village politics to battlefield tactics.

---

The next morning, Uchiha Tenjo personally led Fugaku into his private study and revealed a sealed chamber hidden behind a rotating bookshelf. Within were old scrolls, chakra-sealed drawers, and fire-style training tools—all preserved with meticulous care.

"This is one of the clan's inner repositories," Tenjo explained. "It holds our restricted knowledge—advanced Fire Release, clan tactics, and the ancestral records of the Sharingan."

Fugaku's gaze fell on a thick, leather-bound scroll etched with chakra-binding seals.

Among these secrets lay the most coveted and misunderstood of them all—the Mangekyō Sharingan.

Many within the clan believed the Mangekyō to be the pinnacle of power, deifying it because of Uchiha Madara's legendary feats. But they misunderstood the cost.

Few knew the truth—that Madara had taken his own brother's eyes to evolve his Mangekyō into something even stronger: the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan. The price for such power was blood, grief, and sacrifice.

Outside the clan, these secrets were myth. Within, they were buried truths passed down only to a few.

And now, Fugaku stood on the threshold of that legacy.