Bloodstained Return to the Clan

Early autumn, Year 42 of Konoha.

The gates of the Uchiha Compound consisted of two stone pillars carved with the clan's fan crest, their paint already somewhat weathered. As usual, two Military Police Force guards stood at the entrance, tachi at their waists and crimson fans embroidered on their chests, looking utterly arrogant.

Uchiha En approached from the direction of the setting sun.

He was not wearing his ANBU uniform. It had been blown to shreds by the shockwave of an explosive tag at the Land of Rain border. Later, he had casually bought a black outfit in a nearby town, but large patches of dark red bloodstains that would not wash out still covered it.

He had not returned to the compound for a month.

Honestly, En had not wanted to come back. Compared to the relatives in the compound who never stopped yammering, he preferred being on the battlefield. The rules there were simple—whoever had the bigger fist made the rules. But what were the rules in the Uchiha Compound? Whoever had the purer surname had the final say; whoever had the higher-ranking father was right. They were no different from those well-connected parasites from his previous life who got ahead by relying on their fathers.

But the Third Hokage had given him three days off, and he had refused.

Then the Third Hokage had looked at him as if he were insane for ten seconds before saying, "If you still refuse to go back and rest, I'll change your codename from 'Lava' to 'Workhorse.'"

Fine. He would go back.

En reached the compound gates, but before he could step inside, a hand shot out in front of him and blocked his way.

"Stop."

En halted and glanced down at the hand.

The one blocking him was an Uchiha clansman in his early twenties. His Military Police Force uniform was immaculate, his hair neatly tied with a headband, and his chin raised high. He had even deliberately activated his Sharingan, its red glow flickering conspicuously beneath the sunset.

Showing off?

En looked at him without speaking.

"State your identification number and unit," the man said coldly. His gaze swept over the bloodstains on En's body, and his lips curled downward. "Clothing stained with blood is prohibited within the compound. This is Article Thirty-Seven of the regulations revised by the Military Police last year."

The other young clansman on guard came closer as well, arms folded across his chest as he scrutinized En.

"Which family are you from? Why haven't I seen you before?"

En narrowed his eyes.

Of course, he knew what these two were about. Compared to the enemies outside who wanted to kill him at every turn, the thoughts of these minor figures in the compound were laughably simple. A light sweep of his Observation Haki let him sense the mixture of superiority and faint nervousness coming from them—typical uniformed bullies throwing their weight around.

"Move," En said.

"You—"

"I said, move."

His tone did not change in the slightest, yet the hand blocking his path trembled faintly.

The clansman with the Sharingan changed expression. He was not shaken by En's words, but by what he saw through his Sharingan. The way chakra flowed through the bloodstained youth's body... was wrong.

That was not the chakra circulation of an ordinary shinobi. The flowing energy carried a scorching, fiercely aggressive radiance, like a river of magma coiled within a human body, ready to erupt at any moment.

"I asked you a question! State your—"

"Shadow Guard. Codename Lava."

En spoke those words flatly.

Both men froze.

Anyone in shinobi circles knew what the name Shadow Guard meant within Konoha's ANBU system. It was an independent combat unit directly responsible to the Hokage himself. Even the ANBU commander had no authority to deploy them.

"You say you're... Shadow Guard?" The young clansman with folded arms clearly did not believe him. "The Shadow Guard answers directly to the Hokage. What does that have to do with us Uchiha? Do you have a pass? Where are the approval documents for returning to the compound?"

En nearly laughed out loud.

He needed approval documents to return to his own home? So as an orphan from an Uchiha branch family, even his legal right to live in the compound was questionable?

"I live in the old house on Seventh Street on the east side of the compound." En's voice carried a trace of mockery. "The one your Military Police marked as an 'unclaimed abandoned residence.' I've lived there for three years, and all the paperwork is in order. If you don't believe me, go check."

"Even so, you still need—"

"Let him in."

A steady voice came from behind the stone pillar. A middle-aged Military Police Force officer in his forties stepped out. His expression was blank, but there was an unnatural scrutiny in his gaze as he looked at En.

"Uchiha En. Branch family. Parents killed during a Land of Fire border guard mission in Year 37 of Konoha. Currently assigned to the Shadow Guard." The middle-aged man recited En's file information in one breath, then looked at the two young guards. "His records are in the third cabinet, seventh shelf, of the Military Police archives. You never checked?"

The two young clansmen looked embarrassed, but they still tried to argue. "Section Chief, even if he's Shadow Guard, he should still obey the Military Police—"

"Let him in." The middle-aged man repeated himself, several degrees more impatient.

His Sharingan saw more clearly than those of the two young men. The unsettling pressure emanating from the youth was not at the chakra level, but something more primal—a killing intent forged through countless brushes with death. It had settled beneath his skin like an invisible suit of armor.

This was not someone they could afford to provoke.

En did not look at them again. He stepped through the compound gates.

Behind him, the voices of the two young clansmen carried from afar.

"Section Chief, was that the monster? The one rumored to have had the worst chakra talent back at the Academy, that piece of trash—"

"Shut up. If I hear you gossiping behind his back again, I'll send your guard report back and make you rewrite it ten times today."

En's lips curved in the twilight.

Trash?

He shook his head.

When he had been kicked into the Nanga River three years ago, not a single person in the entire Uchiha Compound had reached out to pull him up. Three years later, he had killed who knew how many enemies with power those people could not touch even in their dreams. Yet when he returned, instead of a welcome, he got interrogated at the gate.

This clan was as always... impossible to like.

The layout of the Uchiha Compound had not changed much. Neat Japanese-style homes lined both sides, and the stone-paved road had been swept clean. In the distance, the waters of the Nanga River shimmered gold beneath the setting sun. Occasionally, a few clansmen passed by. Seeing his bloodstained clothes, they instinctively detoured around him, casting all kinds of complicated looks his way.

Some were curious.

Some were disdainful.

Most carried an indescribable wariness.

En walked through their stares like a lone black beast passing through a flock of domesticated sheep. His pace was neither hurried nor slow, his rhythm as steady as a precise machine.

The old house on Seventh Street to the east had been left behind by his parents. It was a small wooden house of less than forty square meters, and the weeds in its yard had grown to knee height. When he moved in three years ago, the place had been covered in dust and cobwebs. It had taken him an entire day to clean it up.

Pushing open the yard gate, En took a deep breath.

The air smelled fresh with grass and trees, mingled with the aroma of miso soup drifting over from some distant household.

The thirty-square-meter studio he had rented in his previous life had always smelled of the greasy fumes from the spicy hot pot place next door.

"At least the air is better here," he muttered to himself.

Entering the house, En casually tossed the bloodstained outer garment onto the floor and used a basin of cold water to wipe himself down. His body, altered by the Magma-Magma Fruit, hardly ever left scars, but the long battles and travel still left his muscles somewhat sore.

He sat on the tatami and closed his eyes.

In his relaxed state, Observation Haki naturally spread out, covering an area three hundred meters around him. The life presences throughout the compound were densely packed, like a net composed of countless points of light. Most were calm, carrying the feel of everyday life.

But several points of light felt wrong.

In the north-central part of the compound—where Naka Shrine stood—several chakra fluctuations were unusually active, carrying the tense feeling of... people discussing something.

What are they plotting now? En frowned.

He knew Naka Shrine was where the Uchiha higher-ups held meetings. When those radical elders gathered with Clan Head Fugaku, they were discussing nothing more than how to expand the Uchiha's voice within the village. Put plainly, they were plotting—how to pressure Konoha's upper ranks without making it obvious, so the Uchiha could regain control over more power.

And where did that road lead?

En knew all too well.

A coup. Clan extermination. A humiliating cautionary tale.

As he was thinking, his Observation Haki suddenly caught a rapidly approaching chakra presence. Someone was coming, and in a hurry.

Footsteps stopped outside the yard gate, followed by a hurried knock.

"Is Lord Uchiha En here?"

En opened his eyes. An Uchiha clansman of fifteen or sixteen stood at the door. He wore a Military Police Force uniform, but his rank was low. He was probably just a messenger.

"The Clan Head orders—uh, no, the Clan Head invites you to attend the Uchiha clan's internal council meeting at Naka Shrine tomorrow evening."

The messenger had obviously been sent on short notice. He stammered as he spoke, and after saying "orders," he hurriedly changed it to "invites."

"Who sent you?"

"It... it was Lord Fugaku's direct instruction."

En leaned against the wall and looked at him with a faint, ambiguous smile.

"Tell me, who suggested to Fugaku that he summon me?"

A trace of discomfort clearly flashed across the messenger's face.

"This... this humble one does not know. I am only responsible for delivering the message."

"Fine." En waved a hand. "Go back and tell Fugaku I'll be there tomorrow."

The messenger looked as though he had been granted a pardon. He turned and ran off.

En watched his retreating figure disappear at the end of the alley, and the curve of his lips slowly flattened.

Tomorrow evening. Naka Shrine. He had been back for less than two hours, and the news had already reached Fugaku's ears.

The density of informants in this compound was probably greater than at ANBU headquarters.

He lowered his gaze to his palm.

The power of the Magma-Magma Fruit flowed silently beneath his skin, warm and calm. He clenched his fist, and a flicker of dark red light flashed across his knuckles before vanishing.

Naka Shrine.

A banquet with a trap waiting.

It had been a long time since he had attended a banquet.

What sort of gift should I prepare?