The kunai flew past Ken’s face with a whistle of wind.
He shifted his weight to the right, letting it pass harmlessly, then ducked low as Reina sent a water-augmented strike toward his ribs. He caught her wrist, twisted, then slid beneath her counter-kick, pulling her off bance without striking back.
She nded in the mud with a grunt, ughing. “Seriously, Ken. You ever go full force?”
He extended a hand, deadpan. “You’re not the target.”
Daisuke groaned nearby as he finished a sprint drill. “You both are freaks.”
Daen leaned against a tree, arms folded, watching his team closely. The week since their return from the bandit mission had changed them. They moved tighter, spoke more freely, and held the weight of experience in every step.
But Ken... Daen had seen something else in Ken.
Not just growth.
Pressure.
From the treeline beyond Training Ground 14, a pair of cloaked figures watched in silence.
Two Uchiha Elders, faces shadowed beneath their hoods, stood behind a veil of chakra-disguised perception, eyes trained not on the team—but on Ken.
“He’s adapting quickly,” one murmured.
“Still avoiding fire. Still not attending cn lessons.”
“Yet his Sharingan awakens under pressure. Fully stabilized. Two tomoe.”
A pause.
“We should bring him in. Formally.”
“No. Not yet. Let him taste freedom a little longer. The branch always bends. And when it does—it snaps clean.”
They faded into the trees like smoke.
Daen dismissed the team by mid-afternoon.
“Clean up. Be ready in twenty. We’re heading to the Mission Tower. New directive came in. Official handoff this time.”
Daisuke groaned again. “Can’t we just get a mission without climbing that building?”
“No,” Daen replied ftly. “Because paperwork exists. And because Hokage-sama asked for us personally.”
That shut them up.
Ken raised an eyebrow.
Daen caught it. “Yeah. You’ll want to be sharp for this one.”
The Mission Tower stood like a stone sentinel at the heart of Konoha—tall, curved, and built with defense in mind. Its upper floors were restricted to higher ranks, but the second floor housed mission briefings, administration, and task assignment.
Squad 9 entered together.
Reina adjusted her gloves. Daisuke tried to fix his hair.
Ken said nothing, but his eyes tracked everything—the guards, the jonin in passing, the pressure in the air.
They were being watched again. Not like before. Heavier. Closer.
Hiruzen Sarutobi sat behind his desk in a high-colred robe, arms resting on a scroll-filled surface, pipe in hand. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were sharper than any bde.
He looked old. Tired. But alive with something deeper.
He smiled gently as Squad 9 stepped forward.
“Daen,” he said. “Punctual as ever.”
“Wouldn’t want to disrespect the system, Hokage-sama.”
Hiruzen’s gaze drifted to the three young shinobi. “So this is your team.”
“They’re green,” Daen said. “But sharp.”
Hiruzen nodded, then gestured for Ken to step forward.
“You,” he said. “You’re the one from the branch family. Ken Uchiha.”
Ken inclined his head. “Hokage-sama.”
Hiruzen studied him—calmly, patiently.
“No fire nature. Prefers water and wind. Sword user. Tactical mind. Responsible for identifying enemy formation in your st mission.”
Ken didn’t speak.
“I’ve read your file,” Hiruzen continued. “And spoken to your cn.”
Still silence.
“Tell me, Ken… what does the Uchiha name mean to you?”
The room froze for a breath.
Reina’s hand twitched. Daisuke tensed. Daen said nothing.
Ken answered.
“It means history. Pressure. Expectation. And too many people trying to define what it should mean.”
Hiruzen leaned forward slightly.
“And what do you want it to mean?”
Ken met his eyes. “A choice.”
The old man smiled—not kindly, but curiously. “A rare answer.”
He stood slowly, walking toward the window.
“There’s unrest in your cn,” he said, voice more thoughtful now. “They speak of distrust. Alienation. Surveilnce. It grows louder each year.”
Ken said nothing, but his jaw clenched slightly.
“I’ve ruled this vilge for decades,” Hiruzen said. “Long enough to know when a fire is about to spread. The Uchiha are proud. Powerful. But power unchecked is dangerous—to others, and to itself.”
He turned back toward Ken.
“I don’t want another tragedy. Not on my watch.”
Ken’s voice was low. “Then don’t light the match.”
Hiruzen chuckled—dry, quiet. “Spoken like someone who’s seen more than a child should.”
He walked back to his desk.
“Dismissed. All of you—except Ken.”
The squad left reluctantly. Daen met Ken’s eyes before he exited, as if to say: Watch your step.
Ken stood alone as Hiruzen sat back down.
“I don’t think like the rest of them,” Ken said before Hiruzen could speak. “I know that.”
“And yet you still carry the name.”
Ken nodded once. “Because I don’t run from it.”
Hiruzen puffed his pipe. Smoke curled in zy circles.
“You’ll be tested,” he said. “Not just in missions—but by blood, and politics, and silence. I’ve seen boys like you twisted by both duty and defiance.”
Ken tilted his head slightly. “Is that what this is? A warning?”
“A conversation,” Hiruzen said. “One I’d rather have with you now than ter. Before others try to shape your path.”
Ken didn’t respond. Not with words.
But Hiruzen understood.
After a pause, he spoke again, softer this time.
“Be careful, Ken. You’re not invisible anymore.”
Across the vilge, in a darkened office beneath Root HQ, Danzo Shimura read the same report Hiruzen had just dismissed.
He tapped his fingers against the scroll.
Uchiha Ken.
Branch family
No fire affinity
Wind/water user
Tactical discipline
Sharingan awakened under pressure
Unaffiliated with Uchiha doctrine
“Interesting,” he muttered.
One of his aides stood by silently.
“Useful?” the aide asked.
Danzo considered.
“No,” he said finally. “Not for Root.”
“He doesn’t crave power. No ego. No ambition. He’s not controlble because he’s not predictable.”
The aide nodded and stepped back into the shadows.
Danzo looked down once more.
“But he bears watching.”
