In the days following the break-in, the atmosphere in the village grew strangely heavy. On the surface, everything was normal, but Kenji, with his expert senses, could feel the tension. The Uchiha Military Police patrols were more frequent, their faces colder and more vigilant. The Anbu loyal to the Hokage also moved in the shadows with a different kind of urgency. The Hidden Leaf was like a body suffering from a low-grade fever from within.
Kenji and Minato met one more time. They agreed that Danzō had gotten what he wanted: control of the narrative. Now, he could shape the truth as he saw fit. The question was, what would he do with his final chess piece—Uchiha Naoki?
The answer came three days later.
An official notice was sent to all Jounin and clan heads. The content was brief and cold:
"Following his interrogation, Anbu Uchiha Naoki has confessed to all charges of treason against the village and providing information to the Hidden Stone. Due to the severity of his crimes and his inability to face judgment, the subject committed suicide in his cell. The case is now closed."
Kenji read the notice again and again, his hands clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Committed suicide?
A blatant and cruel lie. Naoki, with his arrogance and hatred, would never have ended his own life. He had been eliminated. Danzō had tied up the last loose end, erasing the only witness who could expose the entire conspiracy. He had thrown a lifeless body to the Uchiha clan and declared that justice had been served.
Immediately, Kenji felt the change. The Uchiha district seemed to sink into a deathly silence. A silence that was more terrifying than any scream. It was the silence of a bomb about to explode.
That day, as Kenji was finishing a training session, he saw him.
Uchiha Fugaku, in his Military Police captain's uniform, was standing at the edge of the training grounds. He was not alone. Two high-ranking Uchiha officers stood behind him, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords.
They didn't summon him this time. They came for him.
"Kageyama Kenji," Fugaku said, his voice no longer holding the politeness of their last meeting. It was as cold as steel.
"Fugaku-sama," Kenji replied calmly, signaling for the students to withdraw.
"We just received the notice about Naoki," Fugaku said bluntly. "They say he killed himself. You and I are both shinobi. You know full well what a 'convenient' death looks like."
He took a step forward, his blazing red Sharingan already activated, boring into Kenji. "I will not ask you a second time. Tell me the truth. What really happened in the Land of Earth? What did you see? Who are you protecting?"
The pressure from Fugaku was almost tangible. It wasn't just the pressure of a leader, but the pressure of eyes that could see through deceit.
Kenji stood at a life-or-death crossroads. Tell the truth, and the Hidden Leaf would be plunged into civil war. Continue to lie, and he would become the sworn enemy of an entire, powerful clan.
He took a deep breath, looking directly into Fugaku's Sharingan.
"Fugaku-sama," Kenji said, his tone firm. "With all due respect, I am a Jounin of the Hidden Leaf. My full report on the mission was submitted to Lord Hokage. I am bound by my honor and my duty to follow his orders."
He hadn't lied. He had simply stated a part of the truth, using his duty as a shinobi as a shield. He didn't deny, nor did he confirm.
Fugaku stared at him for a long moment. His Sharingan spun, seeming to try and analyze every fiber of Kenji's being, every flow of his chakra. He saw the firmness. He saw the exhaustion. And he saw an unbreakable wall of loyalty.
Finally, he turned away. The anger on his face had been replaced by a cold determination.
"Very well," Fugaku said, without looking back at Kenji. "If that is the path you have chosen. But remember this, Kageyama."
He paused, his voice laced with an unmistakable warning.
"The truth always has a way of coming out. And when that day comes, all those who helped to bury it... will have to answer to the Uchiha clan."
With that, Fugaku and his two men left, leaving Kenji alone on the deserted training ground. The wind blew softly, carrying with it the dry leaves.
Kenji knew that things had spun out of control. He had tried to put out a fire, but had only ended up making the smoldering embers burn even more fiercely.
The path to tragedy seemed to have been drawn. And he was standing right in the middle of it.