The Clan Head's List

Three days before the relocation, Uchiha Fugaku came to the temporary quarters on the north side.

He had not come alone. Two Military Police Force members followed beside him, along with Uchiha Itachi. Itachi seemed even quieter than when they had last met. He held a stack of wooden tags, each bearing the name of someone in the second group of evacuees.

The children in the yard quickly lined up.

Kiyo nervously clenched his forehead protector cloth into a ball, while Saori hugged her doll tightly. Uchiha Che stood slightly behind the middle of the line, trying his best to look like an ordinary child: curious, reserved, a little scared, but not too stiff.

It was not an easy performance.

Because he knew the man standing before him was the Uchiha clan head. He also knew that, on the night of the clan massacre, this man would sit at home, face the blade offered by his eldest son, and choose not to resist.

But the Fugaku before him was not merely the two words "clan head" on a page.

He wore a dark outer robe, his features calm and steady, with shadows of post-disaster exhaustion lingering on his face. His gaze did not linger overly long on the children, but it was not perfunctory either. He looked like someone carrying far too much on his shoulders, yet still trying to see everything he ought to see.

"The second relocation list has been confirmed," Fugaku said. "The clan will send people to escort you. After you reach the new area, Nao's group will continue handling your daily needs. Training classes will not be canceled, only moved."

None of the children responded.

Fugaku did not seem to need a response from them.

He continued, "You may return to the old clan grounds to pay respects or clear away belongings. But do not enter the sealed areas without permission. There are still untreated collapses and explosive tag fragments there."

When Uchiha Che heard "explosive tag fragments," something stirred inside him. There were still things like that in the ruins after Nine-Tails Night. They might have come from the defenses, from the fighting amid the chaos, or from later cleanup arrangements. Whatever the case, it showed that the old clan grounds were not somewhere children could run around freely.

Itachi began handing out the wooden tags.

He went to each child, confirmed their name, and then handed them a tag. Kiyo's fingers trembled as he took his, and Itachi quietly said, "Hold it tight." Kiyo immediately gripped it harder. After Saori accepted hers, she thanked him softly. Itachi nodded.

When it was Che's turn, Itachi glanced at the tag, then looked at him.

"Uchiha Che."

"Here."

Itachi handed him the wooden tag.

The tag was neater than the one from the temporary quarters last time, its edges polished smooth. The number of his new residence was carved into the back. As Che took it, his fingertip brushed the shallow engraving there.

"East Row Two, Number Seven," Itachi said.

"Sounds like an inn room," Che blurted out.

Kiyo, beside him, froze.

Uchiha Fugaku's gaze fell on him.

Che's heart skipped. Damn it, his old habit of a modern person's mouth moving faster than his brain had struck again.

He immediately tried to patch it up. "I mean, the number is very clear, so it won't be easy to get lost."

The yard fell quiet for a moment.

Fugaku did not reprimand him. He only asked, "Can you find your way?"

"A little," Che said. "I know the old clan grounds well. I've only been to the new place once."

"After you move, first learn where the water station, medical station, and training ground are," Fugaku said. "Do not rush to learn the boundaries."

Che looked up.

That did not sound like an offhand reminder.

Fugaku looked at him, his eyes steady. "Children are easily curious about boundaries, but boundaries are not places to visit for excitement."

A chill ran faintly down Uchiha Che's back. Did Fugaku know he had been memorizing routes? Or was it simply a general reminder from a clan head to the children? Nao stood not far away, her expression unchanged. Itachi did not look at him either, merely handing the next wooden tag to another child.

Che lowered his head. "I understand."

Fugaku did not press further.

After the tags had been distributed, Fugaku had the Military Police Force members lead the children in checking their belongings. Each child could bring only one small bag, while the clan would transport larger items together. Kiyo stuffed his forehead protector cloth, two sets of clothes, and a piece of wood into his bag. He had picked up the wood near his old home, and half of it had been charred black. When Nao saw it, she did not make him throw it away. She only helped him wrap it in cloth.

Saori's bag contained her doll, needles and thread, and the old string from that broken bell. She kept the string too, saying it might be useful someday.

Che's bag was the simplest: the thin booklet of his parents' family records, a forehead protector clasp, several sheets of practice paper, the wooden tag, and a change of clothes. He hid his personal route symbols between the practice sheets and covered them with ordinary copying exercises. That way, even if someone went through them, they would only look like handwriting practice.

When Itachi came over to inspect his things, his fingers paused on that stack of practice sheets.

Che steadied his heartbeat, though a hint of nervousness showed on his face.

"My handwriting is bad," he said.

Itachi opened the first page. On it was the sentence Mine had punished him by making him copy: "Chakra is not a person. It does not go to work."

Itachi fell silent. Che fell silent too.

The awkwardness was real—real enough that it required no performance.

After a while, Itachi closed the papers. "Your handwriting is fine."

"Thank you."

"Who taught you that sentence?"

Che looked at him. "I summed it up from life experience."

The corner of Itachi's eye seemed to twitch slightly. It was not quite a smile, but neither was it no reaction at all.

"Teacher Mine will make you stop summing things up."

"She already made me copy it."

Itachi put the practice sheets back into the bag and did not continue looking through them. Che quietly let out a breath of relief.

That afternoon, Fugaku spoke with Nao and Jian by the edge of the yard. Che did not move too close. He only caught a few words while tidying wooden crates.

"The children's training cannot be interrupted," Fugaku said. "But do not drag them into the adults' emotions too early."

Jian's voice was deep. "The adults' emotions are already on the way."

"Which is why someone needs to keep them under control."

Nao asked, "Can the clan coordinate with the Konoha shinobi around the perimeter of the new area?"

Fugaku paused. "There will be talks."

Talks.

That word was just as polite as the "proposed" in the notice.

Che closed the crate, his fingers pressing against its edge. He was beginning to understand Fugaku's situation. It was not that the clan head did not know the clan members were dissatisfied, nor that he could not see Konoha's suspicions. But so soon after Nine-Tails Night, every step he took was caught between the village, the clan, the Military Police Force, and the children.

Those who knew the future could easily judge those of the past.

But standing before someone from the past, seeing his exhaustion and restraint, made judgment feel heavier.

At dusk, Itachi passed by Che before leaving.

"East Row Two, Number Seven," Itachi said. "Remember it."

Che nodded. "I'll remember."

"Don't treat the new place like an enemy."

Che paused.

Itachi looked toward the half-burned trees in the distance. "Places are not at fault. People put too many things onto them."

That sounded so much like something Itachi would say, yet so unlike a burden a boy should have to carry.

Che thought for a moment, then asked softly, "What if people put too much there?"

Itachi looked at him.

Che immediately added, with a touch of childishness, "Would the place get tired?"

Itachi was silent for a moment. "It would. That is why someone has to take some of it off."

With that, he followed Fugaku away.

Uchiha Che stood in the yard, the new wooden tag in his hand. The engraving on its back—East Row Two, Number Seven—pressed against his palm like a line he would touch again and again in the future.

He did not know whether Itachi had been comforting him just now, or comforting himself.

Perhaps it was both.

That night, Che kept his record of the day brief. Fugaku distributed relocation tags; learn the water station, medical station, and training ground first, do not rush to learn the boundaries; Itachi checked the practice sheets, did not find the route symbols; East Row Two, Number Seven. Finally, he wrote: Do not see Fugaku and Itachi only as their future endings. They are walking forward now too.

Outside the window, people were packing their belongings. Wooden crates dragged across the ground with dull thuds. Relocation was no longer merely a notice, nor was it merely a route. It had become lists, residence numbers, inspections, wooden tags, and the countless little bags everyone held in their hands.

When Uchiha Che lay down, the indentation from the wooden tag still remained in his palm.

East Row Two, Number Seven.

An unfamiliar number was slowly becoming his new address.

He turned the tag over and traced the engraving on the back once more.

East Row Two, Number Seven was not an answer. It was only the number of a new question. But at least it was in his hand. It had weight, edges, and could dig into his palm. Compared with the cold phrase "newly planned area on the northeast side" on the notice board, this number felt more like reality.

Reality could be awful sometimes.

But reality could also be remembered, walked until familiar, and slowly rewritten.