Naruto: Orochimaru's Disciple

Chapter 174: Chapter 174: Uchiha Shisui in Action

Chapter 174: Uchiha Shisui in Action

”If you ask me, we should rebel against them. The Uchiha clan can survive just fine without Konoha!”

Shisui sat in his seat and listened quietly to the clansman beside him. He did not look up. He did not speak. He simply sat there in silence, eyes lowered to his feet.

The Uchiha held meetings from time to time. Sometimes it was once every half month, sometimes once every six months. The schedule was never consistent, but one thing always stayed the same.

Once the meeting began, the discussion would inevitably drift toward the clan’s relationship with the village.

Some were dissatisfied. Some believed that, as one of the two founding clans of Konoha, never producing a Hokage was a blatant insult to the Uchiha. And once those words were spoken, arguments followed like sparks in dry grass.

Sometimes it even escalated to the point where people stormed outside to settle things with their fists and their Sharingan.

”It’s because of idiots like you who keep shouting that nonsense that the Uchiha clan is finding it harder and harder to survive,” an older man snapped, disdain plain on his face.

The younger man’s expression darkened instantly.

The debate flared up, fierce and fast, but it did not stay on the topic for long. It always devolved. It always became personal.

”You old fossil, how many tomoe have you even opened?”

That was all it took.

The elder’s face turned ugly. Furious, he decided it was time to teach these brats what ”respect” meant.

Shisui was not surprised in the slightest. He had known for a long time that this was what the clan had become.

The Uchiha could roughly be divided into two factions.

One side was the hawks.

They swore to fight Konoha to the end. Some of them even proposed launching a rebellion to overthrow the village’s leadership. For a long time, the hawks had been a minority. Those who had lived through real war did not want to be dragged into it again.

But lately, the hawks had been growing louder.

More and more young Uchiha, hungry for influence and status, joined them. These ambitious youths wanted higher positions in the village, seats of power, elder authority, or even something higher still.

The Fifth Hokage.

On the other side were the doves.

They advocated coexistence with Konoha. They wanted negotiation. They wanted a path where the village and the clan could stand together without one choking the other.

But even saying it out loud felt like trying to hold water in your hands.

Most of the doves were older Uchiha. They had seen the cruelty of war up close. They understood how difficult it was for a clan to survive after leaving a village. More than anything, they wanted to return to the past, back when the Uchiha were treated with the same respect as the Senju.

Logically, with this level of internal hostility, the clan should have torn itself apart long ago.

The only reason it had not was because Fugaku kept the balance.

He was the weight on the scale that stopped the whole thing from tipping into blood.

”Brother Shisui.”

A childish voice interrupted the tension.

Shisui looked up and saw Itachi. The boy was holding the hand of a smaller child, one Shisui recognized immediately.

Sasuke, the clan head’s second son.

Itachi’s little brother.

”Itachi. Sasuke.” Shisui’s expression softened into a small smile. ”You two came for the meeting too?”

Shisui and Itachi had always gotten along well. Itachi was gifted, and his way of thinking often aligned with Shisui’s. Shisui had even imagined, once, that Itachi might become clan head one day and lead the Uchiha toward real change.

”No. Father won’t let us attend the meeting,” Itachi said, shaking his head.

He was already unusually composed for his age. Only when he looked at Sasuke did his gaze soften.

Shisui understood. These meetings were far too heavy for children. Even Shisui himself would not have been qualified to attend if he had not already awakened the three tomoe Sharingan.

More importantly, this atmosphere was poison for a child’s mind. It would leave marks that never faded.

”This must be Sasuke.” Shisui smiled at the boy who clung to Itachi’s side, cautious and quiet. ”He’s adorable.”

Sasuke was handsome even now, with features that would only sharpen with age. The Uchiha were rarely ugly. It was almost like a cruel blessing written into their blood.

”Sasuke,” Itachi said gently, ”say hello. Call him Brother Shisui.”

Sasuke lifted his head and looked at Shisui with timid eyes.

”Brother Shisui,” Sasuke said in a small, childish voice.

Even that simple exchange drew attention.

The two Uchiha who had been arguing and nearly fighting a moment ago suddenly became far more restrained.

Every Uchiha knew this much. Fugaku might look calm and easygoing, but Mikoto and his two sons were his soft spot. Touch that nerve, and the consequences were serious.

”Brother Shisui,” Itachi said, smiling, ”Father asked me to invite you to dinner.”

Shisui was not surprised. He returned the smile, stood, and followed Itachi out of the council hall.

Before he left, Shisui glanced back.

The clansmen sat in distinct clusters, their bodies angled away from one another, their eyes sharp with distrust. There was no warmth. No kinship. Only conflict, as if they were strangers wearing the same crest.

A chill crawled up Shisui’s spine.

He gripped his own arm tightly.

For a moment, it felt like he could see it, an invisible net being drawn behind the clan, thread by thread. And somewhere in the dark, spiders named Danzo and Hiruzen Sarutobi watched with patient, predatory eyes.

They were old, yes, but the Uchiha still had elders who remembered. Some had witnessed the Second Hokage’s era firsthand. Through them, Shisui learned what the clan’s situation had been like back then.

It had not been good.

But it had still been livable.

And now?

Now they had been pushed into a corner. The positions they were given looked like power on the surface, but in truth, they felt like bait. Like a trap dressed up as responsibility.

How far had the Uchiha reputation fallen in the village?

”Brother Shisui?” Itachi asked, confused by Shisui’s pause.

Shisui let his hand fall and forced a small smile. ”It’s nothing.”

He followed Itachi into a quieter room nearby.

Fugaku was already there.

A lavish meal had been prepared on the table, but Fugaku had not touched his chopsticks. He sat still, waiting, posture straight and controlled.

”Clan Head,” Shisui said respectfully.

Only someone who truly understood how many holes were in the Uchiha’s rotting ship could understand how heavy Fugaku’s burden was.

The clan had not collapsed yet, and Fugaku’s presence was a major reason why.

”Shisui, come. Sit,” Fugaku said with a chuckle, patting the table.

Shisui sat down without ceremony, directly across from Fugaku.

Light from the corridor cut across the room, sliding over Shisui’s face, then landing on Fugaku’s. Fugaku wore a gentle smile, but there was weight behind it, the kind that did not disappear no matter how calmly someone spoke.

Itachi and Sasuke did not enter. After leading Shisui here, Itachi left with Sasuke and closed the door behind them.

Fugaku poured Shisui a cup of tea instead of reaching for the food.

Steam rose in slow curls.

”Shisui,” Fugaku said, voice lowered, ”let’s talk with the door closed. Just the two of us.”

Shisui understood immediately. Behind closed doors meant Fugaku did not want anyone else to know what would be said here.

”I understand,” Shisui replied, his expression turning serious.

Fugaku lifted his cup, took a slow sip, then set it down with care.

”You’ve been in contact with quite a few clansmen lately,” Fugaku said. ”Is something happening?”

Shisui remained calm. He had never expected his actions to stay hidden from Fugaku. Fugaku was the clan head. If he wanted to know, he would find out.

Shisui’s goal had never been to hide from Fugaku.

He wanted to hide from the venomous snake buried deep in Konoha’s roots.

”There are things happening,” Shisui admitted. ”But I’m sorry. I can’t say.”

That ”senior colleague” he had spoken with.

No, not a colleague.

That person’s identity had kept Shisui awake for nights afterward. The conclusion always came back the same. It was extremely unlikely that the person was Uchiha. The clan’s numbers were recorded. Every household, every member, every name.

A dead Uchiha was dead. A missing Uchiha was missing. A rogue Uchiha was marked.

None of it matched.

Shisui had investigated anyway.

And what he found left bitterness in his chest.

The village had never trusted them.

On the night the village was attacked, the Uchiha were placed under constant surveillance.

Then, the next day, Shisui noticed it. The way villagers looked at them had changed. There was something cold in it. Something like hatred.

Shisui wanted a path forward for the clan.

If peaceful coexistence was impossible, then leaving might be the only option.

”I see.” Fugaku’s gaze did not shift as he set his cup down. He studied Shisui in silence for a moment.

Fugaku knew Shisui seemed to be working with someone important in the village, but it was not ANBU. If it were ANBU, it would be a signal, a message meant for the Uchiha. There was no way Shisui would refuse to speak.

So the most likely place was Root.

But since Shisui did not bear the Cursed Tongue Eradication Seal, it was possible their relationship was cooperation rather than control.

Did Fugaku not know about the village’s attitude, or the clan’s brewing fracture?

If he did not know, then he would have been a failure as clan head.

Fugaku had drawn his own conclusions from the village’s behavior. So when Shisui began quietly contacting certain clansmen, Fugaku immediately sensed something was wrong.

After his own investigation, he learned Shisui had mainly approached doves who were close to him, along with some pessimistic young Uchiha.

”What if I find out anyway?” Fugaku asked, tone calm, eyes sharp. ”You can refuse to speak, but you cannot stop others from talking.”

Shisui met his gaze without flinching.

”That’s something you already know, Clan Head.”

Fugaku rotated his teacup slowly in his hand, as if weighing the warmth against the cold.

”Did it really have to come to this?” Fugaku asked quietly. His voice was calm, but his feelings were tangled and heavy.

Shisui drew a deep breath.

”I only wanted to try,” he said. ”Clan Head, you understand the situation in the village and in the clan. If this continues...”

Candlelight flickered. Fugaku’s shadow swayed across the wall, restless and distorted.

”There’s a high chance of bloodshed,” Shisui continued, voice low, ”so it’s better to preserve some embers.”

The Uchiha were a great tree, with a massive trunk and dense branches supported by deep roots.

Shisui did not want those roots, buried far beneath the ground, to hear his thoughts.

Fugaku’s eyes narrowed slightly. In the candlelight, the shadow behind him twisted more violently, almost like a demon dancing across the wall.

”Who told you all this?” Fugaku asked. ”Or did you decide it yourself?”

Shisui fell silent.

He did not know the other person’s true identity. That person had claimed to be an ancestor, but Shisui could not accept that easily, no matter how persuasive the words sounded.

A trace of sadness surfaced in Fugaku’s eyes.

How could a genius like Shisui be willing to trust an outsider’s path more than the village itself?

”He pointed out a path,” Shisui said at last, lifting his head. His tone was steady, serious. ”And I’ve thought about it for a long time. I believe that path is the only way to survive.”

Fugaku and Shisui stared at each other.

The room fell into a strange silence.

Slowly, the candlelight steadied. Fugaku’s shadow returned to its normal shape, no longer thrashing against the wall.

”When the time comes,” Fugaku said, voice even, ”you should take Itachi, Sasuke, and Mikoto with you. Leave.”

He did not add anything else.

He stood up, bracing his hands against his legs. The clan meeting was about to begin.

Shisui watched him walk past, step by step.

As Fugaku passed, the clan head paused for a heartbeat. He patted Shisui’s shoulder once, then left the room.

Shisui looked down at the untouched food.

From beginning to end, he had not taken a single bite.

He had only drunk tea.

And somehow, it already felt like he was full.

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