The Konoha Security Department, a branch that dates back to the era of the Second Hokage, stood as a symbol of Uchiha dominance, or at least, it should have. The emblem—a fire fan from the Uchiha clan, embedded in a shuriken—was proudly displayed on the building, but to Uchiha Fugaku, it only evoked disdain.
As I step into the Guard Department, I can't help but feel the weight of history and the hidden malice behind its creation. There's no pride, no sense of belonging—just a reminder of how this so-called honor was nothing but a trap laid by the Second Hokage. His intentions were far more sinister than most could see.
By confining the Uchiha within this single department, Tobirama isolated us from other clans. We became prisoners in our own village, cut off from the broader Konoha community. Worse yet, the responsibility of public security made us the enemies of the people, the ones who had to enforce laws that were unpopular and, often, unfair. It was a classic divide-and-conquer strategy, designed to erode trust between us and the rest of Konoha.
It's like being part of an urban management force—everyone hates you, even if you're just doing your job. One misstep, one minor mistake, and the entire group is vilified. The Uchiha became notorious, not because of who we are, but because we were forced into a position that naturally turned others against us.
And the worst part? The Second Hokage kept us under tight surveillance. By centralizing our activities, he ensured that the Uchiha clan would always be under Konoha's watchful eye. A conspiracy cloaked in duty.
Compared to Tobirama, the other Hokages are children when it comes to schemes. Even the Third Hokage, who inherited Tobirama's mindset, pales in comparison. If Tobirama hadn't died during the ambush in peace talks with Kumogakure, I shudder to think what might have happened to our clan by now.
After settling into my office, I dive into the mundane work of the day—reviewing yesterday's public security cases. Lost wallets, brawls, drunk villagers damaging property—it's all routine. The guard members handled things well, and after a quick look, I sign off on their decisions.
Then comes the knock.
"Come in," I call, and Uchiha Yami, one of the clan's most trusted elite jonin, enters. Yami, a loyal supporter of my predecessor, is someone I rely on deeply. His Sharingan has advanced far, making him even more formidable than some of the village's higher-ranking officials.
"Captain, there's a special case that needs your judgment," he says, his tone respectful but firm.
I imitate my predecessor's serious demeanor as I respond. "What's the case?"
Yami explains that a conflict broke out at a local tavern last night. Both groups involved were brought to the security department, but their identities make the situation delicate.
"The identities are special?" I raise an eyebrow. Normally, such incidents could be resolved using standard public security laws. If it's been brought to my attention, it means the individuals involved are from important families.
"Yes, one group is from the Hatake family, and the other from the Sarutobi family."
Of course, it had to be them. I nod in understanding. The Sarutobi family, led by the Third Hokage, is at its peak in terms of influence and power. And the Hatake family, while never producing a Hokage, did give the village the legendary Konoha White Fang—a man with Kage-level strength.
If the guard mishandles this, it could worsen our clan's already strained relationship with Konoha.
"Who was responsible for starting the fight?" I ask, needing to gauge the situation.
"According to our investigation, the Sarutobi clan members initiated the conflict. The Hatake group only retaliated in self-defense," Yami replies.
The facts are clear, and I make my decision quickly. "Then we'll proceed according to the Public Security Management Regulations."
Yami hesitates. "But… imprisoning Sarutobi clan members for ten days could provoke the Third Hokage. If we do this—"
I cut him off. "Don't worry. As long as we handle this according to the rules, the Hokage won't interfere."
Inwardly, I sneer. Hiruzen Sarutobi likes to present himself as a fair and righteous man, a true hero of Konoha. If he interferes now, it would tarnish that image. He won't risk breaking his self-imposed label over something like this.
Of course, the Third Hokage won't have to dirty his hands. That's what Danzo Shimura is for—he does the things Hiruzen can't afford to be seen doing. It's their usual tactic. Hiruzen plays the benevolent leader, while Danzo handles the dirty work.
"Proceed with the standard punishment," I say. But then, I pause and add, "From now on, report any cases involving the Sarutobi, Shimura, Mito, or Utatane clans directly to me."
Yami looks surprised but nods. "Yes, Captain." He leaves, and I'm left alone with my thoughts.
They've given the Uchiha the responsibility of public security, a position that inherently creates enemies. But that doesn't mean I can't use it to our advantage.
If I handle this right, I can apply pressure on the Sarutobi, Shimura, Mito, and Utatane families while showing leniency to other clans. That will send a clear signal: the Uchiha are not the enemy of everyone.
It could drive a wedge between the powerful families and the rest of Konoha, and if things go well, we might even gain allies.
Public security may be a thankless job, but if I play it smart, it could be the key to the Uchiha clan's survival—and maybe even our rise.
(End of Chapter)