Itachi was silent again.
"It's Danzō. Shimura Danzō, the assistant Hokage," Yan said solemnly.
Those words made Itachi's heart sink like a stone to the bottom of a dark valley.
"Ever since he became the Hokage's assistant, the targeting of the Uchiha has never stopped.
At that time, the clan's image hadn't yet deteriorated in the villagers' eyes. Ask yourself—why do you think that changed?"
Along the way, Yan revealed secrets—fragments of information that diverted Itachi's thoughts.
He wasn't trying to manipulate him with flattery or lies. Such tactics wouldn't work on someone like Itachi. The only effective path was candor—bare and sharp. No embellishments. No deception.
"Itachi, can I trust you? Can I?"
When they reached the agreed location, Yan stopped and looked down at Itachi, who was much shorter.
He had said what needed to be said. Now, it was time for Itachi to show his hand.
Pointing to the tavern behind him, Yan smiled faintly and said:
"I'm not afraid to tell you this—the patience of our clansmen has worn thin. When everyone gathers here tonight, they'll be discussing things the clan head wouldn't want to hear. I'll be among them.
But I promise you—we're not trying to rebel against the village.
I'll say it again: Uchiha has always been Konoha's Uchiha. We are part of the whole."
"But right now, some people within the village don't like us. They're pushing us down. We've endured long enough. We're not grass on the roadside—trampled without resistance. Even a rabbit bites when cornered."
"You understand what I'm saying, don't you?"
From beginning to end, Yan's stance remained steady.
Konoha was one body, and Uchiha a vital piece in its puzzle.
By constantly reaffirming that belief, Yan aimed to win people over.
People like Itachi. He wanted to pull him closer—subtly, bit by bit.
"But the status of the person we're up against makes it impossible for us to act recklessly," Itachi said at last, lifting his head slowly.
"Aha?"
Yan laughed and couldn't help but raise a hand to pat Itachi on the head.
Itachi hesitated. Torn between pride and trust, he didn't dodge in the end. He let the hand fall.
Whack!
"Ugh..."
Yan froze. Itachi was dumbstruck.
One hadn't expected compliance; the other hadn't expected a solid slap.
For a moment, the air was heavy with awkwardness.
Yan coughed and looked down at his hand.
"Sorry. I thought you'd move."
Itachi's lips twitched.
"It's fine. I didn't think you'd actually do it."
Better to skip over that mess.
Yan cleared his throat, patted his forehead, and continued:
"I'm not planning to retaliate against Danzō. It's pointless. Like you said—his position makes him untouchable. If we act against him, we'll be standing in open defiance of the leadership. If that happens, the consequences will be irreversible."
No retaliation against Danzō.
Itachi's heart eased a little.
"In that case," he said firmly, "I believe I can trust you. And I hope you can trust me too. After all, I'm a member of this clan."
Having made his decision, his eyes held a newfound clarity.
The young prodigy had taken a step forward.
Yan laughed.
"Good. I knew I wasn't wrong about you. You may think like Shisui, but you're not as idealistic and naïve."
He waved Itachi forward.
"Come on, everyone's waiting for us."
Yan led the way into the tavern, with Itachi trailing behind him.
The tavern was quiet. The owner had already left after preparing some light dishes. Inside, only a few of the police force's unit captains remained.
"Yan!"
The room stood to greet him.
But when their eyes fell on Itachi, their expressions stiffened.
Yan was quick to explain:
"Itachi can be trusted. I'll take full responsibility. If he ever betrays us, you can come for me."
"Gentlemen."
Itachi bowed respectfully. Then he looked at Yan with a complex expression—part confusion, part gratitude.
"Hahaha! We're all family. We should be able to trust one another. Please, sit. You two are the last to arrive."
With Yan's word as bond, the others accepted Itachi. If he ever turned against them, they believed Yan would take responsibility and settle it.
Once seated, Yan poured two cups of sake and pushed one toward Itachi.
Itachi eyed the drink cautiously.
"Captain, I'm not of age yet..."
Everyone else in the room was older. Yan had been the youngest—until Itachi arrived.
"It's fine. Consider it training."
Patting his shoulder, Yan tossed back his own drink in one gulp. The taste was strong and sharp.
Itachi hesitated again. Since joining Yan on this path, he had been hesitating again and again.
But the atmosphere didn't leave room for second-guessing. With everyone watching, and Yan leading by example, he had little choice but to lift the cup.
Gulp—cough!
He choked.
"Hahaha! Looks like Itachi needs more practice. A man's got to handle his drink, even if he's still a pup."
"Yeah, I remember stealing sake from my father at his age. Got the beating of my life."
Laughter rang out. The tension eased.
Itachi's face flushed. He felt awkward and out of place, but remembering Yan's words, he forced himself to smile.
The good mood didn't last long. As soon as the conversation turned to the events of the day, the smiles vanished.
"The patriarch... sigh."
Even Yan, usually the voice of neutrality, was overcome with frustration.
"How many times has this happened already?"
"Damn it. We've been doing our job—solving crimes, maintaining order. Why are we still being targeted?"
"The villagers don't understand us. The village leadership oppresses us. Is this what it means to be Uchiha?"
"What hurts the most—we know exactly who's behind it, and we can't do a damn thing about it."
Being targeted? It was nothing new. Uchiha had endured that for generations.
They weren't afraid of battle. But being struck and forbidden to strike back? That—they couldn't accept.
"Yan, speak your mind."
After a few more rounds of drinks, Yan slammed his glass down.
"I know what you all are thinking. Out of this entire clan, only I, Uchihahiko, have dared to act. If you're willing to believe in me, then follow my lead.
Let me help you vent your anger."
Years of suppression, disappointment, and humiliation had dissolved faction lines. Whether hardliners, neutralists, or former doves—they all sat together now.
The atmosphere was primed.
Yan rotated his glass, then set it down and swept his gaze across them.
"I asked Itachi this question earlier. Now, I ask you all—"
"Can I trust you?"
The words fell heavily.
Was he asking them to switch allegiance?
Every person here belonged to a different faction within the clan. Choosing sides wasn't something to be taken lightly—it could tear the clan apart.
As the silence thickened, Itachi spoke up.
"The captain isn't asking for blind loyalty. He's asking us to set aside internal divisions and unite. To focus on the bigger picture."
Ah.
So that was it.
As long as it wasn't about changing factions, the others could relax.
Yan was the first to affirm:
"As long as this doesn't cross into internal clan politics, I'm with you. Unless you're planning open war against the Hokage."
"Count me in!"
"Me too. I've had it with these arrogant bastards."
"Good."
With that, a smile returned to Yan's face.
He never expected them to abandon their factions—not yet. That wasn't realistic.
But he could unify them around a common threat.
Do it once, then again.
And eventually, unity would become a habit. Factions would fade.
Now that they were ready to follow him, Yan revealed the next step.
"Our biggest problem? Aside from the patriarch's reluctance to fight back, we're powerless to retaliate. The enemy's identity makes direct action... dangerous."