In the largest training ground of the Uchiha the air grew thick, charged with an energy that crackled between the gathered Uchiha. A one-on-one battle between warriors—a test not just of skill, but of belief. This was not a mere dispute; this was a battle for the soul of the clan.
In the past, when Clan Head Madara Uchiha had abandoned the village, the Uchiha were left fractured, leaderless. They needed a way to determine who would take the reins of power, who was worthy. Thus, the tradition of Agni Kai was born. A bloody contest of dominance, a way for strength to dictate leadership.
The first victor was Kagami Uchiha, a man chosen not just for his power but for his vision. He led, and the clan followed. Yet war was cruel, and he met his end far from home on the battlefield.
The next leader to rise was Taka Uchiha—Mikoto's father. He seized the position in fire and blood, proving himself the strongest among the Uchiha young elite. When it was time for Fugaku to step forward, he, too, had claimed his place through combat. And with it, he had won both the title of Clan Head and the hand of Taka's daughter, Mikoto.
'Back then their was many young lads vying for the hand of Mikoto. He could remember their being over 30, with the Agni Kai becoming more like a tournament with the winner given the right to fight Taka after they've proven themselves.
As Mikoto had many suitors within and outside the clan who wanted her hand in marriage. As she was the 'Sharingan Princess' and since Tsunade wasn't in the village, she became the princess of Konoha as no other woman could claim the title. Mikoto was not only the strongest Uchiha of her generation but was without a doubt the most beautiful, and sexiest young woman in the clan and village.'
'Fugaku can still remember how he and Minato would argue about how who's wife was more beautiful.' With Fugaku allowing a small smile to show on his weathered face, remembering his old friend.
He can still remember the old man say how the winner of this agni Kai can ask for his daughters hand. Being the cherry on top of the cake that motivated Fugaku to win no matter the cost. He was insecure about finding a wife given his older age but this allowed him to acquire the most beautiful woman in the clan without the awkward idea of asking her out and being rejected, he might have to go through.
Fugaku had always believed his son would inherit his mantle peacefully, without struggle. As he had made sure Itachi demonstrated his strength to the clan multiple times, and each time Itachi showed overwhelming dominance against the other young fighters of his generation. Leading to an easy transition when he was ready to step down. He thought he had time—time to mold, time to guide, time to ensure Itachi would lead the clan properly.
But now?
His son stood before him, demanding the position in front of the entire clan.
Not asking. Not waiting. Demanding.
Itachi had always been the perfect son. Obedient. Patient. Reserved. He had never once raised his voice against his father's authority. And yet, here he was, standing tall, his expression unreadable, his presence carrying an unshakable finality.
Why now?
Why had he changed so suddenly?
Fugaku's gaze darkened as the realization settled in.
It was Shisui.
His son had spoken of Shisui's death. And Fugaku had believed him, but only now did he truly understand.
Shisui was gone, and something inside Itachi had snapped.
Fugaku inhaled slowly, then exhaled. There was no turning back now. The clan had witnessed the challenge, and the rules were absolute.
A leader who refused to answer an Agni Kai forfeited their position.
Fugaku Uchiha was not the kind of man to forfeit anything.
"Very well," he said at last, his voice calm but edged with steel. "We shall settle this as our ancestors did."
A murmur spread through the gathered Uchiha. Some were still stunned, struggling to grasp what they had just witnessed. Others, particularly those of the Hawk faction, were eager. A true battle for leadership. A battle worthy of their clan.
Fugaku turned, his cloak billowing as he strode toward the exit. "We will fight in the old training grounds. Prepare yourself."
Itachi inclined his head, his Mangekyō still glowing. "Of course, Father."
And with that, the two walked off into the night, leaving behind a clan on the brink of witnessing history.
The knock on the door was urgent, sharp.
Mikoto had been finishing up some housework when she answered it, wiping her hands on her apron, expecting a neighbor or perhaps a clan messenger with some trivial news. Instead, she was met with the solemn face of a fellow Uchiha jonin.
"Lady Mikoto," the man said, bowing slightly. "You should come quickly. Your husband and son... They are about to engage in an *Agni Kai*."
The words didn't register at first.
"…What?"
The man hesitated for only a second. "Itachi has challenged Fugaku for the title of Clan Head. The duel will begin in thirty minutes."
Her breath hitched.
A battle of life and death. A tradition soaked in blood, one that hadn't been called upon in decades.
A fight that only 'one' would walk away from.
The shock turned into action before she even fully processed it. She turned sharply, snatching Sasuke from where he was playing with a wooden kunai. He squeaked in surprise as she hoisted him up, cradling him against her side before leaping out into the night.
She had 'thirty minutes'.
Thirty minutes to stop her husband and son from killing each other.
The rooftops of the Uchiha District blurred beneath her feet, the night air cold against her skin. Sasuke shifted in her arms, his small fingers gripping her kimono.
"Mom?" His voice was confused, worried. "Where are we going? What's happening?"
Mikoto didn't answer. She *couldn't*.
What could she possibly say? That her husband and son, the two people she loved most in this world, were about to destroy each other? That one of them may not return home tonight? That she might have to witness her child—or her husband—fall before her very eyes?
Her grip on Sasuke tightened, pulling him closer to her chest.
Sasuke, sharp as he was, sensed the tension. He had *never* seen his mother like this before. She was always composed, always gentle. But now, her face was tight with fear, her eyes darting frantically toward the Uchiha training grounds in the distance.
He swallowed.
Something was *very* wrong.
The confirmation came moments later, when voices carried through the night air. A pair of off-duty police officers, chunin, speaking to one another as they made their way toward the same destination.
"Tch, I can't believe it. Itachi pissed off the Patriarch *that* badly?"
"He went too far. Now he's paying for it in an *Agni Kai*."
Sasuke stiffened in his mother's arms.
Agni Kai.
The term was unfamiliar, but the tone they used—it was bad. *Really* bad.
His mother's silence suddenly became suffocating.
Mikoto landed just outside the clearing, her breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight before her.
The entire clan had gathered.
The training grounds, normally a quiet, empty space at this hour, were now filled with a sea of black and red. The Uchiha fan emblazoned on their backs was illuminated by the torches surrounding the battlefield. The only ones absent were those still patrolling for the police force and the youngest children who were too small to witness something like this. But everyone else was here—genin, chunin, jonin, even non-shinobi members of the clan. Some academy students stood among the crowd, Sasuke included.
Her youngest son's wide, confused eyes searched the battlefield. He didn't understand what he was looking at, not fully, but he knew enough to sense the tension in the air.
At the center of it all stood her husband and eldest son.
Fugaku and Itachi faced each other, both silent, neither breaking eye contact. The torches cast flickering shadows across their faces, illuminating the deadly seriousness between them.
Mikoto moved without thinking, pushing through the crowd, ignoring the murmurs as she made her way to the center. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
"Fugaku."
Her voice was firm, but there was a tremor beneath it.
Her husband barely acknowledged her, his eyes locked on their son. His stance was calm, but she could see the stiffness in his shoulders, the tension in his jaw.
"Fugaku," she tried again, stepping closer, lowering her voice so only he could hear. "What are you doing? This is your son. Call this off before it's too late."
Finally, he turned to her. His expression was unreadable, but his voice was steady. "I can't call it off, Mikoto."
"You can—"
"No," he cut her off, his tone final. "He challenged me in front of the clan. If I were to refuse, I would lose all authority as Patriarch. There is no backing out quietly. You know this."
Mikoto felt like the ground had been pulled from beneath her feet.
Itachi challenged him?
Her Itachi? The boy who had always been so quiet, so obedient, so careful with his words? He had always walked ahead of his peers, carried the burdens of his clan and village on his young shoulders, but he had never once been reckless. Why would he do this?
Her breath shuddered as she shook her head. "Why? Why would he do something like this?"
Fugaku's gaze darkened. His lips pressed into a firm line before he finally spoke the words that made her stomach drop.
"Because Shisui is dead."
Mikoto gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "What?"
Her reaction was loud enough that some in the crowd turned their heads, but she didn't care.
"Dead," she echoed, shaking her head as if denying it would make it untrue. "How? When?"
Fugaku's eyes flickered back to Itachi.
Mikoto followed his gaze.
Her son stood still, his expression blank, his posture relaxed in a way that only made her more uneasy.
Shisui. Dead.
She had always known the boy as a constant in her home—a presence in Itachi's life that had helped shape him. He was like family. And now he was gone?
Her stomach twisted.
This wasn't how the night was supposed to go.