Whispers After the Clan Meeting

Nights in the Uchiha compound made it easier for true emotions to surface than daytime.

During the day, there were registrations, classes, training, wounded transfers, and house cleanup. Everyone had something to do. Even carrying a charred plank kept their hands busy. But when night came and torches were lit one by one, shadows stretched along the edges of the ruins, and the words suppressed during the day seeped out through door cracks, paper windows, and over courtyard walls.

Uchiha Che had already lain down.

He had not practiced Fire Release today, nor had he continued messing around with chakra. The Great Fireball structure diagram lay beneath the wooden chest like a quiet hot potato. He intended to sleep properly, showing this four-year-old body the most basic respect.

But footsteps sounded outside the courtyard.

More than one person.

They passed through the northern corridor, deliberately muted but not completely concealed. Uchiha Che opened his eyes and heard a soft knock on Nao's door.

"Nao, the clan meeting is over."

It was Uchiha Jian's voice.

Nao opened the door quickly.

"How did it go?"

Jian did not answer immediately.

Uchiha Che lay on his mat, staring at the beams in the darkness.

Eavesdropping was bad.

In modern society, doing this would get him called rude.

In the shinobi world, it might get him caught and scolded too.

But for an Uchiha orphan who wanted to survive, manners probably could not come before intelligence.

He did not get up. He only made his breathing quieter.

The voices in the corridor were very low.

"The clan head told everyone to maintain order for now," Uchiha Jian said. "The Military Police Force will continue assisting the village with post-disaster patrols. The damaged houses on the south side will be cleared by the clan itself, and the death list will continue to be verified tomorrow."

Nao asked, "What about the village?"

"The Third Hokage has resumed handling affairs. The Hokage Office has ordered unified registration for all disaster-stricken areas. The Anbu will come again."

Nao fell silent for a moment.

"They'll come again?"

"Mm."

There was a suppressed displeasure in Jian's voice.

"They said it was for post-disaster resettlement."

No explanation followed immediately.

But the pause itself was an explanation.

Uchiha Che's heart slowly sank.

The Anbu would come again.

That meant today's registration had not been the end. It had been the beginning.

Nao said quietly, "What is the clan saying?"

"What else could they say?" A trace of sharpness finally entered Jian's tone. "Some think the village does not trust the Uchiha. Some think this is no time for disorder. Some think the Nine-Tails' appearance was far too suspicious. The Military Police Force was restricted to the outer perimeter last night. That cannot be kept quiet."

Uchiha Che closed his eyes.

Cannot be kept quiet.

Those three words were dangerous.

The Uchiha clan was not stupid, nor were they blind to the position they had been placed in. The question was what to do after seeing it. Endure for now, and the cracks would continue widening; argue openly, and the suspicions would be more easily confirmed.

Many conflicts in his old memories had been summed up as, "The village suspected the Uchiha, and the Uchiha resented the village."

But hearing adults discuss it in hushed voices, that resentment was not a simple rule.

It had a voice. It had weariness, anger, and unwillingness.

Nao asked, "What about the children?"

"Don't let them hear too much yet."

As soon as Uchiha Jian said that, the corridor suddenly fell silent.

Uchiha Che's heartbeat skipped half a beat.

He did not move.

Jian's voice came from outside. "Is Che asleep?"

Nao replied, "He should be."

"This child's ears are not dull."

Uchiha Che sighed inwardly.

Uchiha Jian, why are you so strict in class and at night too?

Nao seemed to glance at his door.

"He knows his limits."

"I'm afraid he knows his limits too well," Jian said. "A four-year-old child, even after going through something like this, should not always look as though he is weighing something."

Those words left Uchiha Che unable to keep making jokes to himself.

Nao's voice softened. "He lost both his parents."

"That is why it is troublesome," Jian said. "Some children cry after losing their parents. They throw tantrums, cling to adults, and refuse to let go. Che does not. He puts everything away, knows how to speak, and even knows to hold back during training. A child like that, if no one pulls him back, can easily think himself into a dead end."

Uchiha Che stared at the beam overhead.

He suddenly felt a little uncomfortable.

Being watched by the Anbu and being seen through by adults in the clan were two very different feelings. The former felt like danger. The latter felt like someone suddenly reaching out amid the ruins, trying to pull him back from an edge.

Nao said, "I'll watch over him."

Jian gave a quiet hum.

"Also, the clan head mentioned that a few orphans had shown good reactions. They may be arranged for basic training early on. Not formal academy training, just extra lessons within the clan."

Nao's tone changed. "Is Che among them?"

"Possibly."

"His shoulder injury has not healed yet."

"I know," Jian said. "That is why I will keep it in check. Mine is watching him too. We will not push the children too fast."

Uchiha Che's heart stirred slightly.

The clan head had mentioned children with good reactions.

He had saved Kiyo last night. Today, he had thrown within the outer ring, performed reasonably but not exceptionally in class, and made no mistakes in Fire Release class. By all rights, he had tried to keep himself within the ordinary range.

But even within the ordinary range, there were ordinary people "worth cultivating."

He could not show no ability at all.

Nor could he perform so well that he was singled out.

The margin was narrower than he had imagined.

The conversation in the corridor continued.

Nao asked, "Will the village interfere with the orphan resettlement?"

Jian lowered his voice further. "The clan head will not let outsiders take over Uchiha children."

"What about the Hokage Office?"

"Not openly."

Not openly.

Those words sent a chill down Uchiha Che's back.

In his old memories, what Danzo and Root excelled at most was operating out of sight. The Third Hokage had resumed power now. Konoha needed stability, and the Uchiha needed to be appeased, but the hands in the shadows would not become idle because of that.

He did not know whether Danzo had begun watching Uchiha orphans yet.

He probably would not specifically watch him.

But "probably" had already been added to his list of unreliable words.

Footsteps sounded again.

Jian was preparing to leave.

Nao asked one last question. "Did the clan meeting mention why the Nine-Tails appeared?"

Jian paused for a long time.

"There was no conclusion. Someone only said there seemed to be traces of the Sharingan in the Nine-Tails' eyes."

Uchiha Che's breathing almost faltered.

Sharingan.

The word was like a kunai suddenly dropping into the night.

Nao's voice changed as well. "Who said that?"

"It came from the village."

"What evidence is there?"

"None has been made public."

Nao lowered her voice. "That is the most dangerous part."

Jian did not refute her.

After a while, he said, "The clan head told everyone not to argue about it outside. The more we argue, the more it will look like we have a guilty conscience."

"If we do not argue, will they believe us?"

Jian did not answer.

Uchiha Che closed his eyes.

He knew the Nine-Tails had been controlled by the Sharingan.

He also knew the people in this Uchiha compound had not done it.

But who would believe that?

The masked man, Obito, would not step forward to explain. Konoha's higher-ups would not set aside their suspicions simply because there was no public evidence. The more the Uchiha emphasized their innocence, the more others would think they were eager to distance themselves.

This was a pot of blame.

And it had already been placed on them.

The footsteps in the corridor faded away.

Nao stood outside the door for a while without coming in. She probably knew he was not asleep, and probably knew he had heard some of it. But she did not expose him.

That, too, was a form of protection.

Only after the outside had quieted down did Uchiha Che slowly sit up.

The room was dark, with only a little leftover torchlight filtering through the paper window. He took out paper and a brush from the wooden chest. Without lighting a lamp, he wrote by that faint light alone.

His handwriting was terribly crooked.

But readable.

He wrote:

"Information after the clan meeting."

"1. The Anbu will come again."

"2. The village's unified registration is not a one-time matter."

"3. The Military Police Force was restricted to the outer perimeter. The clan is dissatisfied."

"4. Someone mentioned traces of the Sharingan in the Nine-Tails' eyes."

"5. The clan head has ordered everyone not to argue."

"6. Orphans with good reactions may receive early training."

His brush stopped at the sixth point.

He added a sentence beside it.

"I may already be more conspicuous than expected."

It was not a pleasant sentence.

But reality had no obligation to be pleasant.

Uchiha Che placed the paper on his knees and lowered his head to look at it for a long time.

The timeline in his memories ran through his mind like a great river: Nine-Tails Night, the Uchiha being suspected, the clan compound being marginalized, tensions deepening, Shisui's death, Itachi's clan massacre, Sasuke's survival.

Those major turns had not changed.

At least, they did not seem to have changed yet.

So for now, he could still trust the direction of that great river.

But the little stones along its banks had begun to change.

Nao and Jian's attention toward him, Mine telling him to keep records, the Anbu writing both Kiyo and the stuffed doll into their scroll, the clan head mentioning promising orphans. His old memories had not told him about these details.

They might not change the river's course.

But they would change where he stood.

Uchiha Che said softly, "The broad direction is trustworthy. The details are not."

After saying it aloud, he felt he could treat it as a rule for the time being.

He wrote again:

"Old memories: a map of danger."

"Real records: the ground beneath my feet."

When he was done, he blew the paper dry, folded it, and placed it between his father's family records and the Anbu interrogation record.

More and more things were filling the wooden chest.

His parents' belongings.

Name-writing practice.

Meridian sketches.

Great Fireball structure.

The masked shinobi's questions.

Information after the clan meeting.

None of these papers or items could make him stronger immediately, but little by little, they formed his way of surviving.

Record.

Judge.

Hide his abilities.

Practice.

Record again.

He did not know whether this method would let him survive the night of the clan massacre, but it was still better than closing his eyes and trusting blindly.

A very faint sound suddenly came from outside the door.

"Che."

It was Nao.

Uchiha Che's hand paused.

He gently closed the wooden box and walked to the door.

"Aunt Nao?"

Nao did not open the door. She simply stood outside.

"Can't sleep?"

Che looked at the door.

Lying would have been easy.

But lying to Nao had become harder and harder lately.

"A little."

Nao's voice came through the door. "How much did you hear?"

Uchiha Che fell silent.

"Enough to make it even harder to sleep."

It was quiet outside for a moment.

Nao sighed softly.

"Some things aren't for you to think about yet."

"Will they not come just because I don't think about them?"

The moment the words left his mouth, Che regretted them a little.

They sounded far too unlike a child.

But Nao did not scold him.

She only said, "No."

It was an honest answer.

Honest enough to be reassuring, and unsettling at the same time.

"But there's very little you can do right now," Nao continued. "Eat, sleep, recover, attend class, train bit by bit. Do those things well first."

Uchiha Che lowered his head.

"That sounds ordinary."

"Ordinary things aren't easy either, if you can keep doing them well."

He thought of what he had written earlier: "Be a little ordinary, but don't be so ordinary you die." Suddenly, it felt as though Nao had seen those words through the door.

"Aunt Nao."

"Mm?"

"If someone asks what I heard tonight..."

"Say you didn't hear clearly."

Che blinked.

Nao added, "That isn't telling you to lie. You really didn't hear all of it clearly."

Uchiha Che could not help smiling.

"I've learned something."

"Don't misuse it."

"I'll try not to."

Nao stood there a while longer.

"Go to sleep."

Her footsteps receded.

Uchiha Che returned to the futon and lay down again.

This time, he did not get up to write anything else.

He closed his eyes and repeated the two conclusions he had reached in his mind.

Old memories were dangerous maps.

Records of reality were the ground beneath his feet.

The former told him where the distant abyss lay.

The latter told him whether this next step would land on solid ground.

Both mattered.

Neither could be fully trusted.

And neither could be discarded.

The night wind swept past the window paper, and the remaining glow of the torch slowly faded.

At last, Uchiha Che felt a little sleepy.

Just before he drifted off, a wildly inappropriate thought suddenly surfaced in his mind.

If he really lived long enough to write a memoir someday, he ought to give these past few days a subtitle.

How to Pretend to Be Ordinary in the Uchiha Clan Compound.

The title was rather long.

But accurate.

With that faint smile, he fell asleep.

And outside the door, Konoha continued to slowly mend its wounds in the darkness, while slowly hiding new cracks where daylight could not see them.