Uchiha Itachi's gaze swept across the room. As his eyes moved, his pupils shifted rapidly. The tomoe in his eyes spun, merging into a new, intricate pattern.
Mangekyō Sharingan!
Gasps filled the shrine as the elders reacted with a mix of shock and excitement.
"Another pair of Mangekyō!" one of the elders exclaimed, his voice laced with awe.
The room, previously tense with debate, now brimmed with an electrified energy.
"This is excellent news!" another elder beamed. "With Shisui and Itachi both awakening Mangekyō, the Uchiha clan now has two wielders of the legendary dojutsu. The tides of fate have shifted in our favor!"
For the first time that night, both radical and conservative elders shared a moment of unity, hope flickering in their eyes.
Uchiha Fugaku, too, was taken aback. He had never heard of any incident that could have triggered such an awakening in Itachi. The Mangekyō Sharingan could only manifest under intense emotional distress—what had his son experienced?
Still, now was not the time for questions. A rare, proud smile played on his lips. Itachi's strength was the strength of the Uchiha.
As the murmurs of excitement settled, Itachi finally spoke, his voice calm but firm.
"Everyone," he began, his Mangekyō gleaming in the dim candlelight, "I have a plan. A plan that requires your full cooperation and support."
A hush fell over the room. Every elder leaned in, their focus entirely on the young Uchiha prodigy.
That night, in the depths of Nanga Shrine, an unprecedented decision was made.
---
The Next Morning – Konoha's Bustling Streets
The sun had barely risen when Uchiha Thimble, a senior member of the Konoha Police Force, set out on his usual patrol. Flanked by his teammates, Uchiha Snowstorm and Uchiha Pearl, he walked the busy streets of the village.
Though the market was alive with chatter, laughter, and the enticing aroma of freshly baked goods, a noticeable pattern unfolded before them.
Wherever the Uchiha patrol passed, the lively crowd would part. Pedestrians averted their gazes, mothers pulled their children close, and shopkeepers whispered anxiously among themselves.
To Snowstorm and Pearl, this reaction was nothing new. They had long grown used to the fear and respect their clan commanded. They even carried themselves with an air of pride, reveling in the silent acknowledgment of their authority.
But today, Thimble saw it differently.
No wonder... he thought, his mind still consumed by last night's discussions. No wonder the young patriarch is taking such measures.
Uchiha had become a symbol of intimidation rather than leadership. The villagers feared them, but they did not respect them. They obeyed them, but they did not trust them.
This, he realized, was the root of the clan's struggles.
Even if we take power, what kind of Hokage would we be? A leader ruling over a village that despises us?
For the first time, Thimble began to understand Itachi's strategy.
---
An Unexpected Turn of Events
"Brother Thimble, I'm going to grab breakfast. Do you want the usual?" Snowstorm asked, his mood light and casual.
"Yeah," Thimble responded absentmindedly.
As Snowstorm walked off, Thimble suddenly had a strange feeling in his gut. A moment later, he turned and began following him.
"Brother Thimble?" Pearl frowned, confused. "Aren't we supposed to patrol in the other direction?"
"Just follow me," Thimble said curtly.
A few streets away, Snowstorm arrived at a small, family-owned bun shop. A modest line of customers waited their turn.
As soon as Snowstorm stepped forward, however, the line scattered. The waiting customers backed away, some pretending to have lost interest, others looking at the ground nervously.
The shop owner—a middle-aged man with weary eyes—sighed and forced a smile.
"Sir Snowstorm, you're here again. What would you like today?"
"The usual. Hurry up," Snowstorm said impatiently.
The owner nodded quickly, packing a bag of freshly steamed buns before handing it over.
Snowstorm took it without looking and turned to leave. "Put it on my tab. I'll pay later."
The shopkeeper's forced smile twitched slightly, but he said nothing.
Inside the shop, however, his young daughter wasn't as silent.
"Hey! You haven't paid yet!"
The sharp voice startled both Snowstorm and the owner.
The shopkeeper's face paled. He immediately grabbed his daughter's arm. "Don't!" he whispered urgently. "Please, be quiet!"
But it was too late.
Snowstorm turned back, his face darkening.
"Did you just say I didn't pay?" he sneered. "I told you I'll pay the bill later. Are you deaf?"
The girl didn't back down. "You've been saying that for half a year! That's not 'later'—that's stealing!"
A tense silence followed.
The shopkeeper's grip on his daughter tightened in sheer panic.
Snowstorm chuckled coldly. "Let me teach you the difference."
Before anyone could react, he took a step forward and raised his hand.
The girl flinched, shutting her eyes, expecting the blow to come.
But it never did.
A firm hand caught Snowstorm's wrist mid-air.
Snowstorm froze, startled. He turned and saw Thimble gripping his arm like iron.
"Brother Thimble?" Snowstorm forced a laugh. "What are you doing here?"
"What are you doing?" Thimble's voice was calm, but there was an underlying steel beneath it.
"I was just about to teach this brat some respect," Snowstorm said carelessly.
Thimble tightened his grip slightly, making Snowstorm wince.
"There will be no more of this," Thimble said. His tone left no room for argument.
Snowstorm blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I mean exactly what I said." Thimble released his wrist and stared into his eyes. "This behavior ends today."
For a moment, Snowstorm remained speechless, caught off guard by Thimble's seriousness.
Pearl, who had just arrived, looked equally puzzled. "Brother Thimble, is something wrong?"
Thimble glanced at the shopkeeper, who stood frozen, still holding onto his daughter.
"How much does he owe you?" Thimble asked.
The shopkeeper hesitated. "W-Well, it's—"
"How much?"
"...Twenty ryo."
Thimble nodded, reached into his pocket, and placed the money on the counter.
The shopkeeper's eyes widened. Snowstorm and Pearl stared in shock.
"Brother Thimble, why are you—"
"Enough," Thimble cut him off. His gaze sharpened. "This is an order from the young patriarch. You will not extort, intimidate, or take advantage of the villagers from now on. Understood?"
Snowstorm looked like he wanted to argue, but the weight of Thimble's words—and the mention of Itachi—made him pause.
After a long moment, he let out a reluctant sigh.
"...Understood."
Pearl, though still confused, nodded as well.
Thimble turned back to the shopkeeper. "Thank you for your patience." Then, without another word, he walked away.
Snowstorm and Pearl exchanged looks before following after him.
As they disappeared down the street, the shopkeeper slumped in relief.
His daughter, however, stared at the departing figures with an expression of curiosity.
For the first time, she had seen something different in the Uchiha.
Maybe, just maybe, they weren't all the same.
---
A New Path Forward
As Thimble continued his patrol, he couldn't help but feel a small sense of satisfaction.
He wasn't sure how long it would take for the clan's image to change. But if this was what Itachi wanted—if this was how the Uchiha would secure their future—then he would do his part.
It's a long road ahead, he thought, but at least we've taken the first step.
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