After arranging accommodations for Iori, Uchiha Kai quickly returned with a copied ninjutsu handbook from the Uchiha clan archives. However, the material was dense—clearly not designed for beginners.
Realizing this, Kai concluded it would be better to find a proper instructor to guide her. For general shinobi training, he could rely on clan contacts. But when it came to medical ninjutsu, that was another story.
Kai found himself unexpectedly thinking of Nohara Rin. If she were still alive, she would've been the perfect choice. Kind-hearted, capable, and skilled in medical techniques—she would have helped without hesitation. But Rin was gone, long since perished during the Third Shinobi World War.
Dwelling on the past was meaningless. What mattered now was finding a capable medical-nin still active in Konoha. Fortunately, as head of the Uchiha Police Force and a recognized hero of the war, Kai's reputation carried weight. If he truly wanted someone, even a medical-nin, to act as a teacher, it wouldn't be difficult to arrange—so long as he asked the right people.
He made a mental note to ask either Kenta Imai or Uchiha Chuan to find someone suitable.
When young Iori first entered the Uchiha household, Kai felt nothing. He had done what needed to be done—there was no time to indulge in sentiment.
But his parents, Uchiha Ryoko and Uchiha Keisuke, reacted quite differently. They showed unexpected warmth toward the shy, wide-eyed girl. Perhaps they saw in her a chance to reconnect, to rekindle something lost.
In their eyes, Kai had grown cold and distant since the war—something they had accepted in silence. Their son had taken on far too much too young. His rise to command within the Security Department only widened the gap between them. So when he suddenly brought home a child, they couldn't help but wonder: Was this his way of starting a family? Of coming home?
But they were mistaken.
Kai's true motivation had little to do with family. His plan was to build a sense of belonging in Iori—a bond—so that she would devote herself wholly to him in the future.
Still, Ryoko and Keisuke's attentiveness made things easier. Kai had been uncertain about how to house and care for the girl. Now, he no longer needed to worry—Iori was confused, but not alone.
She hadn't expected the "elders" Kai mentioned to be his own parents.
Regardless of her thoughts, Iori had already begun her basic shinobi education. With that in motion, Kai turned his attention back to the reorganized Police Force.
He wasn't sure if it was due to Uchiha Chuan's competence, the high morale of his subordinates, or simply the pressure he placed on them—but within two weeks, the new teams were already functioning well and taking on missions.
"You're training them so aggressively," Kai remarked one day in the minister's office. "Aren't you worried something might happen?"
Uchiha Chuan, kneeling respectfully, answered in a low, steady voice.
"No, Lord Kai. They have no complaints. They're tired, yes—but motivated. After seeing Captain Imai's squad in action, they're inspired. They want to be just as capable."
Despite Kai's insistence that Chuan didn't need to be so formal, the man maintained his humility. Kai had stopped bothering to correct him—it wasn't so bad having such a loyal and capable subordinate.
What impressed Kai the most was Chuan's strategic thinking. Without being instructed, he had sent his men to observe and learn from Kenta Imai's elite unit. That team was Kai's original creation—even if he hadn't micromanaged it, he'd written the training doctrine and mission protocols himself.
Their stellar reputation in Konoha came from disciplined, effective mission performance and strong civilian feedback. Now, Chuan's squad aspired to match them.
The psychological boost from having such role models couldn't be overstated. These new recruits were fired up, eager to prove themselves. Within two weeks, they'd adapted to the code of conduct and begun patrols with Chuan's blessing.
"Kenta's going to love this," Kai chuckled. "He hasn't come by to complain, but I've heard the things he's been muttering about me."
"Lord Kai," Chuan replied, "Captain Imai is too exhausted to complain directly. Still, perhaps he shouldn't speak that way…"
"You're not his match, even with the Sharingan," Kai interrupted, smiling faintly.
"Kenta was my comrade in war. He's no weaker than I am, and he's seen nearly a decade of battlefield hell. He didn't join the Security Department by choice—but I trust him completely."
Kai's laughter softened the tension. He hadn't forgotten that Imai wasn't under his command—and he certainly didn't want Chuan to pick a fight with him.
"I understand, Lord Kai," Chuan nodded. "I won't provoke Captain Imai. I'll work with him and avoid any conflict."
"Good. One more thing," Kai added, his expression shifting. "I need you to find me someone with basic medical-nin skills. A teacher. Someone reliable to train a student."
"Yes, Lord Kai. I'll begin immediately."
"Thanks, Chuan. I'll leave it to you."
Chuan bowed, stood, and exited.
Alone again, Kai leaned back in his chair. Two-thirds of the Police Force was already under his control. It wouldn't be long before he had the entire department firmly in hand.
Still, not everything was seamless. Jun Uchiha, for example, was progressing too slowly. Despite her best efforts, gaining the trust of non-Uchiha clans in this tense political climate was hard. The Third Hokage's influence remained strong.
Kai didn't blame her—he knew she was trying. But she wasn't his person. She was placed there by Uchiha Fugaku, part of a compromise. That made her a liability.
This was Kai's domain now, and he had a clear ambition: to transform the Uchiha Police Force into a true power base—his power base. Having outsiders, or even Uchiha loyal to Fugaku, diluted that control.
Still, it wasn't worth dwelling on. There were bigger issues ahead.
It was now March, and Kai's birthday was approaching. But more importantly, Naruto Uzumaki would be born in seven months.
Seven months. Around 210 days.
In that short span, the future of the Uchiha clan—and possibly Konoha—would be determined.
Would the future unfold the way Kai envisioned? Would the Uchiha finally claim a place of dignity through cooperation with the Fourth Hokage?
Or would history repeat itself? The Fourth dead, the Uchiha blamed, and their position in the village eroded beyond repair?
Uchiha Kai had prepared for both outcomes. Fugaku continued to build alliances among civilians and lesser clans, but in Kai's mind, that wouldn't be enough if the worst came to pass.
He didn't want open rebellion. He sought something smarter—a decisive, well-timed shift in power. A clean break from the influence of the Third Hokage and his inner circle.
"Seven months…" Kai whispered, staring at the ceiling. "The stakes are too high. I've planned too much, sacrificed too much. I won't fail now."
As he spoke, his Mangekyō Sharingan flickered into view.
He would not be disappointed.