Chapter Twelve: Forcing Hands

Four Weeks Later.

I watched, expressionless, as Father turned to regard the ANBU standing outside the door. 

"What is it?" he asked. 

"Urgent summons, Lord Fugaku," said the masked messenger. "The Hokage demands your presence immediately."

There was a long pause as Father considered the summons. "I will be there in a moment."

"Understood, Lord Fugaku." The ANBU departed without waiting to see if Father would comply. We all knew he would; he had yet to have a good enough reason to be disobedient. 

Fugaku said nothing as he rose, simply placing down his chopsticks and dabbing his lips with a napkin. 

"Father," I said softly in between bites, "do not agree to anything unless the Hokage agrees to do the needful." Fugaku paused his gaze flicking up to hold mine. I could see the gears turning behind his eyes as he tried to decipher my words. In the corner, Mother eyed me suspiciously as she burped a sleepy Sasuke.

"...What have you done, son?" Fugaku asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. 

I told him. I didn't need to. I didn't think it mattered, but I did.

In the end, I knew he'd understand.

He had to if the Uchiha was to survive.

Hiruzen frowned as Fugaku entered the hall. Underneath the facade of calm, the clan head was furious. Furious enough that he couldn't hide it completely. His anger leaked at his seams. Boiling. Roiling.

Yet, whatever angered the clanhead to such an extent would have to be ignored for the meantime. There were bigger things at stake at the moment. Hiruzen waited till the patriarch was seated at the table alongside the other clan heads before he spoke. 

"Kumogakure is demanding an explanation from us under the threat of war."

Silence. The atmosphere in the room turned grave; Hiruzen was glad for that. At least he was now assured that no one presented desired a renewal of bloody strife.

"...For what?" Tsume finally growled, voicing the confusion the majority of the attendees present probably felt.

"Someone captured, tortured, and then killed their head ninja and his bodyguards," Danzo grunted. "For whatever inane reason, the Raikage believes it was our doing."

Hiruzen sat back, hands folded beneath the heavy sleeves of his robes, and cast a weary eye across the gathered clan heads. No one spoke immediately. Even Danzo, whose voice had carried the accusation like the crack of dry wood in a fire, settled back into his silence, watching. Waiting.

"We need to prepare for the worst," Hiruzen finally said, his voice heavy with the gravity of it. "If the Raikage doesn't wish to see reason, there might be another war."

"I think we all know Kumogakure is just looking for a reason to strike," Homura said. His voice was as dry as paper, cracking with age but laced with the venom of years of suspicion. "They've been looking for an excuse since the last war. This is no different."

"We've had peace for nearly a decade," Tsume snapped, sharp teeth flashing as she leaned forward, fists clenching on the table. "You think they'd throw it all away because a few of their shinobi didn't make it back from their heedless gallivanting?"

Fugaku's voice broke through the muttering that followed, quiet but cutting like a blade through mist. "They will, if they think they have reason enough."

The room stilled.

Fugaku did not look up from his place at the table, his hands resting calmly in his lap. His tone was neutral, yet Hiruzen caught the slightest edge beneath it, a buried tension. Anger. "I do not think the Uchiha has the will to fight in another senseless war."

"...And what are you suggesting?" Koharu's question was more an accusation than a query, and her eyes narrowed as they fixed on the Uchiha. "If we are to face war, we must all stand together."

"Together?" Fugaku repeated, a soft scoff at the edge of his lips, though he never smiled. "You speak of unity, but when have we—the Uchiha—been treated as part of this village? When have we been afforded the same respect as other clans? Every day, my people are watched, ostracised, and scrutinized by your ANBU. We are blamed for an attack you have yet to categorically prove we instigated, and yet we remain silent. We have been pushed out of our ancestral lands for reasons as inane as the Raikage's. Yet, you want us to die for you on top of all that?"

The words hung in the air. Hiruzen's face tightened, his breath a slow, measured exhale. He'd been waiting for this. But not here, not now.

"Why do you act like you do not understand?" Danzo countered, his voice a quiet rumble. "The Uchiha are a risk. We cannot ignore the fact that—"

"A risk?" Fugaku interrupted. "You speak of risk as if we haven't bled for this village, as if we are not shinobi of Konoha. I personally had fought for this village, killed thousands in the name of the Leaf. The Uchiha has been its shield for generations, yet we are treated as the enemy. Loathed. No longer. If you expect us to fight for this village, then we will no longer be treated as criminals."

A murmur rippled through the room, the reactions split—some angry, some shocked, others uncertain. Several clan heads shifted in their seats. Hiruzen watched the tension spread like smoke, saw the lines being drawn in the air between them.

"That's absurd!" Homura's voice rang out, his fist slamming against the table. "You cannot make demands of the Hokage!"

Hiruzen felt the weight of all their eyes on him now. Waiting for him to speak. To put an end to this. But Fugaku's eyes were the heaviest. They saw everything, piercing through the room's tension, through the layers of history that had brought them all to this moment.

Before anyone else could speak, Fugaku rose from his seat. He looked at none of them as he moved toward the door, his steps deliberate, his back straight as a blade.

"I will pass a missive to all my clansmen who would obey," he said without turning. "The Uchiha will not contribute to the village's affairs until a resolution can be reached. Until then, please do not try to contact us. The Uchiha district would be off-limits to all but the Hokage himself."

Hiruzen's throat felt dry. He wanted to speak, but every thought that came to his mind promised an unfavourable result. Indecisive, he watched as Fugaku left.

"You cannot simply walk away!" Koharu spat, rising from her seat. "You'll cripple us in the face of—"

But Fugaku was already gone, the door closing softly behind him.

The silence in the room was deafening, and Hiruzen could feel the gaze of the clan heads, their anger simmering just beneath the surface, waiting for a crack to split it wide open.

This…

This was bad. Very bad.