Chapter 7: It's Absolutely Necessary to Write Your Last Will in Advance

Fugaku took a deep breath, suppressing the irritation bubbling beneath his stern expression, his gaze falling upon the flustered Izumi in the office.

“Uchiha Izumi.”

“Here!!!”

Fugaku nearly jumped at the girl’s sudden, thunderous reply. He fixed her with a cold stare. “No need to shout so loudly.”

A visible blush spread across Izumi’s cheeks.

It was all thanks to Iizumi’s relentless training—whenever someone called her name, she’d reflexively shout “Here!” at full volume, terrified of being too slow and offending her mentor.

“Honestly,” Fugaku mused, “I don’t know why Iizumi has such a strong dislike for Itachi. Maybe their personalities just don’t mesh.”

He paused, then added, “Don’t take what Iizumi said yesterday to heart. I know you’re one of the few friends Itachi still has. Right now, he needs friends more than ever.”

“Because…” Fugaku’s voice dropped, “his best friend… is already gone.”

Izumi knew exactly who the Fugaku Clan Head meant. Itachi had spoken of him often—more often than anyone else. Whenever the name “Uchiha Shisui” came up, the usually silent boy would light up, his words flowing like a river.

“Uchiha Izumi!”

“Here!!!”

Fugaku: “….”

Izumi: “….”

She clasped her hands tightly in front of her, mortified, nearly wishing she could vanish into the floorboards. With a stiff bow, she stammered, “I’m so sorry!”

“Ahem.” Fugaku sighed, offering a rare gesture of goodwill. “If you feel… that Uchiha Iizumi isn’t the right person to be your examiner… I can arrange for someone else. No trouble at all.”

He was genuinely concerned. The girl didn’t need to be broken by Iizumi’s brutal standards.

And Iizumi had a history—no, a track record—of pushing people to their absolute limits. Not in the way of moral corruption, of course. No, his kind of “damage” was far more dangerous: the kind that could drain the soul, shatter the spirit, and leave only ashes behind.

Fugaku had lied earlier when he said Izumi was one of Itachi’s few friends.

After Shisui’s death… Itachi had only one true companion left—this girl.

Even if he’d been harsh with his own son—had once gone so far as to push Itachi to the brink of emotional collapse to unlock his Sharingan—Fugaku still believed, deep down, that he was a father.

And a father… should at least try to protect his child’s world.

Izumi blinked, stunned. “Change my examiner…?”

She hesitated. Iizumi’s presence had already been overwhelming—her every move scrutinized, her smallest mistake punished with withering criticism. One misstep, and she’d be berated until she felt like she’d been flayed alive.

But then she bit her lip, her resolve hardening.

She looked up, eyes fierce. “Fugaku Clan Head… I joined the Police Force to become a worthy enforcer. Yes, Iizumi Senior is strict—but I believe he’ll shape me into a capable, excellent officer!”

She paused, voice trembling slightly. “I’ve only just met him today, but he’s already taught me so much. Maybe… we just need time to adjust to each other.”

She’d never met someone so unwavering in their devotion to Justice. Even if Iizumi’s methods were extreme, even if he seemed to harbor a grudge against Itachi—she knew, deep down, that he was a good man.

Fugaku exhaled slowly. “So… you’re determined to stay under his supervision?”

He rubbed his temples. “Fine. But remember this—don’t defy his orders. Treat him as your superior.”

“Yes, Fugaku Clan Head!” Izumi saluted sharply, her voice full of conviction.

…

The next morning.

Izumi dragged herself out of bed, her eyes shadowed with exhaustion. She hadn’t slept well—night after night, she’d relived the nightmare: the killer, the child’s lifeless body, the hollow eyes of the grieving mother. And worst of all, she’d dreamt of Iizumi Senior screaming at her all day long.

She didn’t know how the Police Force handled the bodies. She didn’t know how the mother was coping—her husband dead, her child dead, and the child murdered by his own father. How could anyone survive such a loss?

She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear her mind, then tugged at her rumpled sleepwear, which had slipped off one shoulder. Her gaze fell on the alarm clock on the nightstand.

Her breath caught.

Her eyes widened.

“Oh no…”

“Nine… nine o’clock?! I’m late! I forgot to set the alarm! I forgot to tell Mom to wake me up!”

There was no time to change into her uniform, no time for breakfast—she bolted out of the room barefoot, her face pale as a ghost.

And then she saw them.

Her mother, Uchiha Hazuki, standing at the front door, talking with her mentor, Uchiha Iizumi.

And then—she felt it.

The weight of Iizumi’s gaze.

A terrifying thought flashed through her mind: If I killed myself right now… would I at least die with a more dignified appearance?

“Ah… Izumi, you’re awake?” Hazuki smiled faintly, her elegant features soft with apology. “When Iizumi Senior came by, I wanted to wake you. But he told me not to. He said… he wanted to see just how long you’d sleep.”

Izumi froze.

Her mind went blank.

She felt it—the cold certainty that her time was up. She should’ve listened to that woman’s advice. She should’ve written her Last Will yesterday. Now, it would finally be useful.

“P-Pre… Senior…”

Her voice trembled.

Uchiha Iizumi stared at the trembling girl, her face drained of color, her spirit shattered. His expression remained utterly blank.

“Change your clothes. You’re two hours late. You’ll work four extra hours tonight. All your weekend leave this month is revoked.”

“Y-Yes?!” Izumi blinked, stunned. “Wait… what?”

She stared at the man who, in the eyes of other officers, had become a legend—the merciless examiner who’d never hesitated to eliminate a failing candidate.

For a moment, she thought she was still dreaming.

“Did you think I’d kill you?” Iizumi asked, his voice flat.

Izumi: “….”

She couldn’t hide anything from him. Not even her deepest fear.

“I’ll kill you,” he said calmly, “the moment you betray Justice. But right now, you have thirty seconds. If you’re not in front of me in thirty seconds, your exam fails. You can go back to bed and sleep until tomorrow.”

Izumi jolted awake.

“Yes, Senior!” She spun around, slammed the door shut, and began tearing off her clothes in a frenzy. The sounds of frantic movement echoed through the house.

At twenty-nine seconds, the second-floor window flew open.

Izumi leapt out, landing perfectly in front of Iizumi—her uniform crooked, her breath ragged, her heart pounding like a war drum.

“Huff… huff…”

She stood beside him, head down, trembling, barely daring to breathe.

“Senior,” Hazuki began, her voice gentle, “Izumi is… different. Her personality doesn’t match the others in the clan. If she’s caused you trouble, please… forgive her…”

She was cut off.

“I only care about whether she can do her job,” Iizumi said coldly. “Let’s go.”

Izumi clutched the hem of her uniform, following silently behind him.

Then—she noticed.

In his hand, he held a takeout bag.

A familiar one.

Ichiraku Ramen.

“I don’t waste food,” Iizumi said, tossing the bag casually.

Izumi lunged forward instinctively, catching it just in time.

She remembered—Iizumi Senior had said last night they’d meet at Ichiraku Ramen this morning.

Her eyes welled up.

“I’m sorry, Senior… I’m so sorry…”

Her voice cracked.

“Newcomer,” Iizumi replied, “the only thing you should be sorry for is your lateness… and the Justice that was delayed because of it.”

Izumi clutched the ramen bag, her head hanging low.

“I’m sorry…”

…

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end