The river roared softly.
Its na was Naka River, but where its source lay was now lost to ti.
Still, it had witnessed much—things hidden deep within the shinobi world.
Standing quietly by the water’s edge, Hakken tossed a small stone into the river.
Not because he felt like it, but because decades ago, the founders of Konoha—Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha—had once stood here too, skipping stones across these sa waters.
They’d even competed to see who could send their stream of urine farther downstream.
A new day had begun.
Two figures stood side by side by the Naka River.
“Pee.”
Yawning, Hakken patted Itachi’s shoulder.
Finally standing before this familiar river again, he couldn’t help but feel a hint of nostalgia.
It was a river famous in the original story—the place where the tale of two Uchiha truly began.
And that story’s ending had always been filled with regret.
Shisui had leapt into this river, leaving behind only his Mangekyō Sharingan, carrying the Genjutsu of Kotoamatsukami.
Yet his ideals had never co to fruition. Between the Uchiha and Konoha, Itachi could only choose one.
Had Hakken not appeared, the story would likely have played out the sa way as before.
But now, Hakken stood here, beside his friend, Itachi.
The tale of the two Uchiha at Naka River was destined to have a third figure.
What would beco of the Uchiha clan? And how would Itachi face it all?
Hakken had the power to change everything—but it was still too early. After all, the Nine-Tails’ attack hadn’t yet happened.
Konoha’s higher-ups hadn’t blad the Uchiha for controlling the Nine-Tails, nor had they found a reason to move against the clan.
For now, the Uchiha still lived in the heart of the village. Aside from their growing tension with the village leadership, everything seed… relatively normal.
“Pee?”
Itachi blinked in confusion. But when he saw Hakken loosening his belt, realization hit him. He quickly turned his head away, embarrassed.
Ever the reserved young man—or perhaps it was just envy of his friend’s remarkable kidney strength.
Splash.
Imitating Hashirama and Madara’s long-ago antics, Hakken followed suit, though without any particular sentint behind it.
He had never believed in surpassing others by copying their actions.
Because the very mont you think about surpassing soone, you’ve already lost.
Hakken Yoru was Hakken Yoru.
If anyone was aiming to surpass soone, it should be others aiming to surpass him.
Itachi, long used to his friend’s peculiar habits, didn’t think much of it. Peeing by the river wasn’t exactly a cri. But there was no way he’d follow Hakken’s example—he was, after all, the Uchiha clan’s eldest son, and he had so dignity to maintain.
anwhile, a green-tinged face surfaced from the water—not the reflection of the trees, but Shisui himself, looking utterly horrified. His face was about the sa shade as his Susanoo.
The fish in his hands was definitely no longer edible.
With a resigned sigh, Shisui tossed the poor creature aside and swam back to shore.
Today was supposed to be a simple picnic.
Not that he was completely free—he’d only just returned from the battlefield, and Danzō hadn’t yet assigned him a new mission.
So, he’d called his friends out to relax and enjoy a rare mont of peace.
And to Shisui, this—this fleeting calm—was true happiness.
“You know what, Hakken? I’ve got a mission.”
“To observe you.”
“I’m guessing Danzō-sama intends to recruit you into Root.”
Shisui shook out his damp hair and dropped down beside Hakken as he spoke.
He’d only just returned to Konoha, and while Danzō hadn’t given him any other assignnts, there was one clear order—to secretly monitor the boy nad Hakken Yoru.
Anyone with half a brain could guess what that ant.
As his friend, Shisui saw no point in hiding it from him. If it worked out, they’d end up as colleagues. If not, Hakken would learn about it sooner or later anyway.
So, he told him.
From the mont Orochimaru had requested Hakken’s records from Danzō, Shisui had already taken note of this unusual boy.
For gifted children like Hakken, Danzō possessed a disturbing, obsessive desire for control.
Recruiting him into Root—though “recruit” wasn’t really the right word. It was forced assimilation.
Once branded with Root’s seal—the so-called Cursed Tongue Eradication Seal—he would be stripped of emotion and individuality.
Not every mber of Root could live as freely as Shisui did.
“What does he think he is?”
The stone Hakken had been about to toss into the Naka River shattered in his palm. His voice was cold enough to chill the air.
“Shh!”
Shisui froze, quickly pressing a finger to his lips in warning.
As a mber of Root, he knew too well the extent of Danzō’s reach across the village.
If those words ever reached Danzō’s ears, trouble would follow imdiately.
“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Shisui muttered with a strained smile. He sighed softly—so much for Danzō’s plans.
Hakken clearly had no interest in joining Root.
Of course, the boy probably didn’t yet realize what kind of consequences ca with turning down such an offer.
Thankfully, for now, Danzō had only ordered Shisui to observe him. It hadn’t yet reached the point of confrontation.
Beside them, Itachi blinked, having caught only part of their conversation.
But from what he’d heard...
“Ken-san, why do you dislike that man Danzō so much?”
The young Itachi tilted his head in confusion.
“Don’t worry,” Hakken said with a faint laugh, raising a finger to tap Itachi firmly on the forehead. “You’ll hate him even more one day.”
Having a Uchiha spy on his own clan—how could anyone not have strong opinions about that?
“Well then, co train with .”
“Since we’ve already drawn the village’s attention, we might as well make it count.”
He drew his sword, the blade flashing sharply in the light.
A fierce glint shone in Hakken’s eyes.
“Itachi, three days from now—graduate with .”
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