The Uzumaki Legacy

Tensions

Shisui's POV :

"Shisui!" Inabi's called . He and Tekka are leaning against the wall near my house, their faces bearing those increasingly common expressions of barely concealed bitterness. I force a tired smile, though my mind is still with Hana in that sterile hospital room.

"You look like hell," Tekka observes, his Sharingan activating briefly – a nervous tick many of us have developed lately. "Another long day playing loyal soldier for the village?"

There's an edge to his words that makes my spine stiffen. "My teammate is in the hospital," I respond, keeping my voice neutral. "She was injured protecting our mission objective."

"Ah yes, risking Uchiha lives to protect their precious village interests," Inabi spits out. "While they keep us confined to this corner of Konoha, watching us like we're criminals waiting to strike."

I close my eyes briefly, feeling the familiar headache building. "It's not that simple-"

"Isn't it?" Tekka pushes off from the wall, his chakra flickering with suppressed anger. "They've moved the entire police force to the edge of the village. They monitor our movements. Every time there's an incident in the village, whose doors do they knock on first? The Uchiha."

"They fear our power," Inabi adds, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "The Sharingan, our heritage, our strength – they claim to trust us while building walls around us. Even that new barrier system they're installing... it's not to protect the village, it's to contain us."

My fingers clench involuntarily, remembering how they trembled while holding Hana's broken body. "And what would you suggest? Revolution? Civil war? How many more bodies should we pile up to satisfy our pride?"

"Pride?" Tekka laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Is that what you call dignity? Self-respect? How long should we bow our heads and accept their suspicion, their subtle degradation of our clan?"

"You've been spending too much time with them, Shisui," Inabi's eyes narrow. "That girl from the hospital – the sensor. She's made you soft, made you forget who you are."

Something dangerous flares in my chest at the mention of Hana. My Sharingan activates involuntarily, three tomoe spinning slowly. "Don't bring her into this."

"Why not? Isn't she part of their system? Another tool they use to watch us? A sensor who can monitor our chakra signatures, track our movements-"

"Enough!" My voice cuts through the evening air like a blade. "Hana nearly died today protecting someone else. She took dozens of metal shards meant for our client, and now she's lying in a hospital bed discovering that everything she believed about her parents' death might be a lie. So don't you dare suggest she's part of some conspiracy."

A heavy silence falls. In the distance, I can hear children playing, their laughter a stark contrast to our dark conversation. The sun has almost completely set now, casting long shadows across the compound's streets – shadows that seem to whisper of secrets and buried resentments.

"You're blinded by your feelings for her," Tekka finally says, softer now but no less intent. "The village is rotting from the inside, Shisui. Soon, we'll all have to choose sides."

"I've already chosen," I reply, stepping past them toward my door. "I choose to believe in the possibility of change without bloodshed. I choose to protect both my clan and my village. And I choose to trust in people like Hana, who risk their lives not for politics or power, but for what's right."

"Then you're a fool," Inabi calls after me. "And when the time comes, your naivety will cost you everything."

I pause at my doorway, not turning back. "Maybe. But I'd rather be a fool who believes in peace than a wise man who embraces war." I step inside, sliding the door shut on their disapproving faces, their words echoing in my mind like an ominous prediction.

In the darkness of my home, I press my forehead against the cool wood of the door. The truth is, I understand their anger, their frustration. But as I think of Hana lying in that hospital bed , I know there has to be a better way. For her sake, for my clan's sake, for everyone's sake – there has to be.

....

The morning sun filters through the leaves as I watch Itachi perfect his shuriken jutsu, each throw precise, calculated. Despite being years younger, his talent reminds me so much of myself – perhaps too much. There's a weight in his eyes that no child should carry, the same burden I see reflecting in every mirror of the Uchiha compound.

"Your timing is getting better," I tell him, catching a glimpse of a rare, slight smile on his face. "But remember, even perfect technique can be predictable. Sometimes-"

"Sometimes chaos is the better strategy," he finishes, already knowing my lesson. "Like the scattered leaves in a whirlwind."

My eyes drift to the scattered shuriken embedded in various targets, remembering how Hana once compared the way I fight to a dance with death itself. The memory makes my chest tighten – another sleepless night spent wondering if she's still lost in that darkness between life and death.

"Shisui!"

Shima's voice cuts through my thoughts like a lightning bolt. She's running towards us, her medical pouch bouncing against her hip, breathing heavy from what must have been a sprint from the hospital. My heart stops for a moment, Sharingan activating instinctively, reading every micro-expression on her face before she even reaches us.

"She's awake," Shima manages between breaths, and those two words make the whole world shift beneath my feet. "Hana's awake."

Itachi looks up at me, his young face showing understanding beyond his years. "Go," he says simply. "We can continue training another time."

I hesitate for just a moment, torn between responsibility and desire. "Itachi-"

"Some things are more important than training," he says, with that eerie wisdom that sometimes makes me forget he's still a child. "Besides," and here, that slight smile returns, "I've seen how you look at her during team meetings."

If it were anyone else, I might have felt embarrassed, but Itachi has always seen too much, understood too deeply. With a quick nod of thanks, I turn to Shima. "How is she?"

"Physically, she's healing well," Shima explains as we leap through the trees, taking the fastest route to the hospital. "But Shisui... she's different. The things that assassin said about her parents – it's changed something in her. Her chakra... it's turbulent, like a storm brewing beneath still waters."

I understand that feeling all too well, thinking back to my conversation with Inabi and Tekka. How many storms are brewing beneath Konoha's peaceful surface?

We land at the hospital entrance, and I have to force myself to walk, not run, through the corridors. Each step feels too slow, too measured, but years of shinobi training keep my exterior calm even as my heart races.

"She asked for you," Shima says quietly as we approach the room. "When she first woke up, before anything else, she asked where you were."

Those words send a warmth through my chest . But there's something in Shima's tone that makes me pause. "What aren't you telling me?"