Uchiha Yang stood tall in the middle of the training field, his arms crossed, exuding the confidence of a warrior destined for greatness. His sharp Sharingan gleamed in the afternoon light, scanning the gathered crowd of young Uchiha clansmen. His posture screamed defiance, his smirk unwavering.
"I'll make you all cry," he declared. "If anyone isn't convinced, step forward!"
A hush fell over the group until a calm, authoritative voice broke the silence.
"That's enough, Yang. None of them can stand against you in a single exchange," said Uchiha Mei, Yang's mentor. His tone was firm but approving, acknowledging Yang's dominance while keeping his arrogance in check.
From the side, Uchiha Ze chuckled, shaking his head. "I didn't take you for the competitive type, Yang. Looks like you're still young after all," he said, his tone half-scolding, half-amused. "You two sure know how to put on a show. Shouldn't you be focusing on something more productive?"
The assembled crowd murmured, some nodding in agreement. The elders had already arrived, observing the scene with neutral expressions. For the Uchiha, strength spoke louder than words, and while competition was encouraged, outright arrogance could lead to unnecessary tensions. That was why the mentors had stepped in—to temper their students' ambitions before they crossed a line.
Uchiha Mei glanced at Yang, assessing his stance. "You're the strongest of your generation, but there's a fine line between confidence and recklessness."
Uchiha Ze added with a smirk, "Still, a young man should have some spirit. After all, what Uchiha isn't a little headstrong?"
Yang scoffed but said nothing. He understood the lesson. This wasn't about backing down—it was about building a legacy. His strength was a tool, a means to carve his name into history. If he wanted power in the future, he had to establish his dominance now.
Just then, another voice cut through the crowd.
"They're all gathered here, yet the streets are empty. Seems the young ones are too busy playing to remember their duties," Uchiha Sa remarked, his tone laced with disapproval. "All except those from the Fourth Brigade. The rest of you—disperse."
The gathering broke apart reluctantly. The lesson had been delivered, and there was nothing more to see.
Uchiha Duanten sighed and turned to Mei, who had just pulled a sword from a summoning scroll. The polished blade gleamed with an aura of history and craftsmanship.
"Your path is your own, Yang," Mei said. "You follow the way of the samurai blade, but our style is the Ninja Sword Technique. This sword, Breeze, is crafted by the same master as Yang's. It suits you better than the one you're using now." He placed the weapon in Duanten's hands with finality.
Uchiha Ze chuckled. "I had a sword prepared for you too, but I won't deny that Mei's is superior. Take it—it's yours."
Duanten accepted the sword with a respectful nod, then secured Breeze at his waist before departing, his old blade in hand as if preparing to lay it to rest.
As the group began to disperse, Mei's sharp gaze fell on Yang once more. "Causing such a commotion over a simple squadron leader appointment… What next? If you were made a captain, would you try to overthrow Konoha itself?"
Before Yang could respond, two familiar figures approached—Uchiha Retsu and Uchiha En. Retsu clapped a hand on Yang's shoulder, while En chuckled knowingly.
"Aren't we planning to overthrow Konoha in the future anyway?" En teased, eyes gleaming with mischief.
Yang smirked. The three of them had already shared their ambitions in secret, and it was clear from their expressions that they still stood by their plans. Seeing his friends' unwavering support, Yang decided there was no need for pretense. He would lay it all out for his mentors.
"A master's guidance is crucial," Yang said. "And today, all three of my mentors are here. The three of us—Retsu, En, and I—would like to invite you to the old training ground for lunch. Retsu's been cooking, and everything's ready. We hope you'll join us."
Uchiha Sa laughed heartily, throwing an arm around Retsu. "Did you prepare sake too, boy? Let's go."
With that, the group moved toward the old training ground, a familiar place of training and strategy.
As the meal ended, Yang took the opportunity to serve tea, a skill he had learned from his grandfather in the mountains. His movements were precise, a reflection of his disciplined upbringing. As the mentors sipped their tea, Yang finally spoke.
"Senseis, I've been away from Konoha for years. My only true companions have been Retsu and En. But in the middle class, and among the younger members of the clan, there is dissatisfaction. I already know that when I take on my new role, some will refuse to cooperate."
He set down his tea, his Sharingan flaring slightly. "To fix that, I need to establish absolute authority—both in strength and in strategy."
Uchiha Mei's eyes narrowed. "You're planning to clean house, aren't you? Rooting out spies, cutting down opposition. But that's not your real goal."
Yang smiled slightly. "Teacher, you give me too much credit. I'm not scheming—I just want to make a name for myself, so I can rise higher and go further. I realized something before I returned: those without position have no power. And those with no power have no voice."
He looked at each of his mentors in turn. "If the Uchiha want a better standing in the village, we first need influence within our own ranks. That means proving my worth—not just through strength, but through action."
Uchiha Mei stood, nodding approvingly. "Then I look forward to your performance." With that, he turned and left.
The other two mentors followed, each giving their silent support.
Once they were alone, Uchiha Yan leaned forward. "You're targeting spies and traitors. Is that just an excuse to shake things up in Konoha?"
Yang smirked, kicking a stool aside as he met his friend's gaze. "How could we shake things up? We're just doing our jobs."
His laughter echoed through the empty training ground.