The next day, Tajima received Gendo and his allies at the central hall. It was tense—formal, but underlined with challenge.
"You summon us like wayward children," Gendo said coldly.
"I summon you as a leader summoning comrades," Tajima replied evenly. "You've served the clan with distinction. But now your actions divide it."
Gendo laughed. "You divide it, Tajima. You weaken us with alliances. You fear the Senju."
"I fear stagnation," Tajima growled. "I fear arrogance."
"You fear your time has passed."
That struck a chord. Silence fell. Then Madara stepped forward.
"Enough," he said, voice firm. "Gendo… what you propose is war without end. Victory at the cost of everyone."
Gendo turned on him. "And you would lead us into bonds of trust with mutts and beasts?"
Arai spoke softly. "A wise Uchiha does not fear the wild—he tames it. The Inuzuka and Kaguya are not lesser. They are different."
Gendo turned his gaze to Tajima. "Then you will lose the southern quarter."
Tajima's eyes narrowed. "Then I will rebuild it from the ashes."
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Whispers spread again. Gendo's refusal to bow had inspired a factional split. Younger Uchiha now aligned with either Tajima's pragmatic future or Gendo's purist vision.
Arai found himself walking alone, reflecting. He found Madara waiting for him at the waterfall near the outer cliff.
"They think Father is weak," Arai said.
Madara nodded. "Because they see compromise as surrender. But it's survival. And survival is the first duty of a leader."
"They don't know what we know. What the world could be."
"No," Madara murmured, "they don't."
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The wind brushed through the Uchiha compound like a whisper of warning—chill, sharp, and barely audible. Arai stood alone at the training grounds, his one-tomoe Sharingan activated, watching the flickering afterimages of thrown kunai with precision. He exhaled, then deactivated the dōjutsu, wiping sweat from his brow.
Behind him, he could feel the silence—not the kind born of solitude, but the kind that follows you like judgment.
"You train too hard for someone who backs a coward."
The words sliced through the air. Arai turned slowly. Three boys—Uchiha Arata, Keiji, and Noboru—his age or slightly older, stood near the wall, arms crossed, watching him.
Arata smirked. "What's the point of power if you use it to beg for peace?"
Keiji added, "Your father wants to kneel to the Senju and call it strategy. Some of us still have pride."
Arai didn't rise to it. He didn't need to. But the knot in his chest tightened.
"You think subordination is surrender," he said, voice calm. "But you're too blind to see the war has changed. The minor clans are moving. Senju and Uzumaki have already aligned. If we stand alone, we'll fall."
"You sound like Tajima," Noboru spat. "And that's not a compliment anymore."
Their laughter followed him as he turned away, jaw tight.
Later that evening, Arai sat across from Izuna, their meal barely touched. Madara was away on a patrol, and Tajima had retreated to a meeting with the elder council. Izuna, sensing the storm in his younger brother, leaned back, eyes sharp.
"They're getting bolder," Arai muttered. "No one even pretends to respect Father's strategy anymore. Gendo's name is whispered more openly by the day."
Izuna sighed. "Gendo is ambitious. He knows how to speak to their pride. It's a poison sweet to the weak-willed."
"But it's working. Even our peers believe him."
Izuna gave a grim smile. "Let them. We'll see how well that pride holds when the fields burn."
Gendo Uchiha stood over the map of the northeastern border, a vulnerable ridge near the Kaguya and Inuzuka front. A young lieutenant pointed to a route used by merchant caravans—unguarded, overlooked, tempting.
"This post," Gendo said, "is being watched, but barely. If we allow a raid there and respond independently—without Tajima's orders—we'll show the clan that strength lies in action, not negotiation."
A few nodded. One objected.
"But if Tajima finds out—"
"He won't. Not until it's done. And when it's done, they'll have no choice but to praise us."
He stepped back, arms crossed. "We're Uchiha. Not lapdogs. We were born to conquer, not make allies."
The room echoed with murmured agreement.
Arai's Dilemma
Arai returned to the training ground alone again, venting his frustration through elemental drills. His Fire Release had gained clarity—a twenty-meter flame ball with burned ground into a red hot magma — with only mild strain. His Earth Release, even better, was now responsive enough to produce solid barricades. Lightning remained volatile, but he could now discharge it with better aim.
Still, something weighed heavier than chakra exhaustion.
Was he wrong?
What if the others were right? What if strength really was about standing alone?
No. That path led to isolation, ruin. He had seen it in flashes—those memories that were not his. A world where clans fell because they refused to unite.
He would not let it happen again.
But how do you protect a clan that doesn't want your help?
The Spark Before the Fire
That night, as Arai returned from patrol, he overheard whispers from a hidden corner of the compound—Arata and Keiji, speaking in hushed urgency.
"Gendo says tomorrow night. We hit the ridge and clean up. Make Tajima look useless."
"You think Arai suspects?"
"He's too busy playing diplomat to see straight."
Arai clenched his jaw. So the rumors were true. Gendo was preparing a rogue operation. If it failed, it could ignite a civil fracture within the Uchiha. If it succeeded… it might cement Tajima's fall.
The weight of choice settled on his shoulders.
Report it—and be seen as a traitor to his generation.
Ignore it—and risk watching the clan tear itself apart.
He knew what he had to do.