Chapter 99: The Paradox of Uchiha Fugaku's Strength and Weakness (5000 words)

When Asama’s voice fell silent, the Daimyō of Fire Country froze in place—completely stunned, his eyes wide with disbelief, fixed on the solemn face before him.

—His most beloved second son had died, far away in the Leaf Village. And not of illness or accident, but murdered.

Asama’s words echoed endlessly in the Daimyō’s mind.

The shock in his eyes began to fade, replaced by a hollow, glassy emptiness.

The Daimyō swayed suddenly, nearly collapsing. Instinctively, Asama stepped forward and caught him by the arm.

“Please, my lord… bear this burden with dignity.”

Now, the words of comfort were returned to the Daimyō—words he had once offered to others in grief.

For half a minute, the Daimyō remained motionless, lost in a daze.

When he finally stirred, his gaze had hardened—burning with fury and sorrow, a storm contained beneath a rigid mask.

His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, the tendons in his forearms standing out in sharp relief. Veins pulsed across his forehead like thin, writhing serpents.

His once-pampered, pale face flushed crimson with suppressed rage.

“Huff… huff…”

The Daimyō gasped, heavy and uneven, his eyes locking onto Asama with a gaze like molten steel.

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to remain composed, then spoke through clenched jaws, each word dragged out like a blade dragged across stone:

“…You said the man who killed Kyosuke and Nanmu… what was his name again?”

“Uchiha Iizumi.”

Asama answered.

“Uchiha Iizumi…” The Daimyō murmured, as if trying to recall a distant memory. “I… I think I’ve heard that name before.”

Asama explained, “In the Leaf Village, and indeed throughout the entire Ninja World, he’s a well-known figure. He’s a member of the Uchiha Clan, a prodigy with Dual Bloodline Limit, and earned a reputation during the Third Ninja War. He’s no ordinary shinobi.”

A flicker of recognition passed through the Daimyō’s eyes.

“…I remember now.” He whispered. “Uchiha Iizumi… wasn’t he part of the Leaf Village Uchiha Police Force? I recall hearing the Hokage speak of him—said he was a man who upheld Absolute Justice.”

Asama was slightly surprised. He hadn’t expected the old noble to have even heard of Iizumi.

But then again, it made sense.

Iizumi was one of the most prominent figures in the Leaf Village—powerful, controversial, and endlessly discussed.

Whenever the Daimyō’s court discussed the state of the Leaf, the conversation inevitably turned to Iizumi.

“Has the Hokage… arrested him?” the Daimyō asked, voice strained, weary.

“…No.”

Asama’s reply was quiet. “That’s precisely why I’ve traveled so far—to deliver this news in person.”

The Daimyō frowned. “Why not arrest him?”

“Because my father,” Asama said, “believes that confronting Uchiha Iizumi would only cause unnecessary casualties. Capturing him would require a heavy cost—bloodshed, risk, and political fallout.”

He paused. “And as he grows older… he’s become more hesitant. His resolve, once iron, has softened. In moments like these, he doesn’t know what to do.”

A silence settled between them.

Then Asama spoke again, his voice calm but unwavering:

“Since he cannot decide… then I will.”

He met the Daimyō’s gaze.

“I have no interest in his position. I care nothing for the internal squabbles of the Leaf. But I care deeply for the village that raised me.”

His voice dropped, low and grave.

“Every day Uchiha Iizumi remains in the Leaf, the village grows more chaotic. His so-called ‘Absolute Justice’ doesn’t bring peace—it brings death. Not one death. Not ten. But dozens. Hundreds.”

He swallowed hard.

“My own brother, Hiruzen Shintetsu… he was killed by Iizumi, all in the name of that same ‘Justice.’”

He looked away, voice barely above a whisper.

“I never thought my father could… endure that.”

The weight of Asama’s words sank into the Daimyō.

Now, he could see his son’s killer—not just as a man, but as a figure of cold, unyielding principle, a zealot who twisted justice into a weapon.

A man so powerful that even the Hokage dared not oppose him directly.

The Daimyō took a deep, shuddering breath, but his emotions refused to settle.

His jaw clenched so hard it ached.

“…When he killed Kyosuke… did he justify it with that same ‘Justice’?”

“…Yes.”

Asama didn’t lie. He didn’t embellish. He simply nodded.

“He publicly laid out all of Kyosuke’s transgressions—before witnesses. Every wrongdoing.”

The Daimyō’s voice trembled with suppressed fury.

“Because of those things… that’s why he killed him?”

“Most likely.”

“Why?!”

The Daimyō’s control snapped.

His scream tore through the silence like a storm. His face twisted, red and livid, almost monstrous in its rage.

“He killed a civilian—I understand that! But he killed my son! My second heir! One of the highest-ranking nobles of Fire Country!”

His voice cracked.

“Fire Country’s nobility enjoys Immunity and Pardon Rights! I established that constitutional decree myself—over a decade ago!”

“Unless someone commits treason or rebellion, no one can be punished for their actions. Not even a minor offense. Only I, the Daimyō, have the authority to judge them!”

“And this man—this Uchiha Police Force shinobi—how dare he defy the law? How dare he ignore my decree?”

“He wasn’t even the head of the Investigation Corps! He wasn’t even a captain—just a low-ranking member!”

“Does he not respect Fire Country? Does he not respect the Leaf? Does he not respect me?”

“Huff… huff… huff…”

The Daimyō gasped, his chest heaving.

And then, in that moment of raw, shattering grief, he realized the truth:

His title was loud, but meaningless.

He had no army.

The military power of Fire Country rested entirely in the hands of the Hokage.

Even if he wanted revenge… he had no one to send.

Could he hire a group of mercenaries to fight a shinobi?

How absurd.

“…Asama,” the Daimyō said, suddenly turning to him, voice hoarse.

“I… need your help.”

Asama exhaled—his body, which had been coiled in tension, finally relaxed.

If even the Daimyō was paralyzed by indecision, then he would have to face Iizumi alone.

But now… there was hope.

---

Leaf Village – Uchiha Compound

Tsunade Konoha trembled, her frail frame quivering as if caught in a storm.

She had known, of course, that Uchiha Iizumi enforced justice with ruthless precision.

Those who fell into his hands—most were lucky to be imprisoned.

The rest… were dead.

She had criticized his methods before.

But only when it was others who suffered.

Now, it was her family.

Her blood.

She rushed forward, heart pounding, and stopped beside the lifeless body.

There, just a few feet away, lay a severed head—still intact, still young, still recognizable.

The face was familiar.

A child.

A member of the Tsuchi no Ryūji family.

Her own kin.

“…Ryūji…” she whispered, voice cracking.

She turned sharply to Hiruzen Sarutobi.

“Hiruzen… you just stood there and watched him kill a child? A boy still in the Ninja Academy? How could you let this happen? Even if he did something wrong—was it worth death?!”

Her voice rose, sharp with pain and disbelief.

She remembered Ryūji.

A polite boy. Sweet-natured. Always greeted her with a respectful bow.

A promising talent.

He wouldn’t have become a top-tier ninja, but he would have been a respected Special Jōnin—just like his father.

And now… he was nothing.

Just a body.

A head.

A memory.

Tsunade Konoha felt her vision blur.

She didn’t understand.

“Tsunade-sama,” a calm voice cut in.

One of the Anbu Ninja standing beside Hiruzen Sarutobi spoke—his mask hiding his face, but his silver-white hair impossible to miss.

Hatake Kakashi.

“The boy’s crimes were far worse than you imagine,” Kakashi said. “Even under Fire Country law, he would have spent over thirty years in prison.”

Tsunade Konoha locked eyes with him.

She didn’t trust this man. Not after everything.

But she had to know.

“Are you saying… he deserved to die?”

Kakashi didn’t flinch.

“He was guilty of far more than murder. He murdered an entire family—four people—out of jealousy. A younger student, just a child, had surpassed him in class. So he broke into their home at night… and slaughtered them all.”

A cold silence fell.

Then, from the shadows, Naruto Uzumaki’s voice cut through.

“Grandma… that psycho killer… was he someone you knew?”

“Killer… evil offender?” Naruto spat, fury in his voice. “How could he not deserve death? He didn’t just kill one person—he wiped out a whole family!”

His face paled.

“He didn’t even wait for the funeral. The bodies are still in the Morgue.”

Tsunade Konoha stared at him, horrified.

She had known Ryūji.

She had trusted him.

And now… she had stood there, accusing the man who had to kill him, as if justice were a game.

Her face burned.

She had been the one shouting.

The one demanding answers.

And now… she felt like a fool.

She looked around.

Some of the Uchiha ninja were openly smirking.

Others didn’t even bother hiding their disdain.

This is the Leaf’s leadership?

The message was clear.

She was nothing but a spectacle.

A laughingstock.

Her teeth clenched. She wanted to scream.

But she said nothing.

Instead, she turned to Hiruzen Sarutobi, voice barely a whisper.

“…Hiruzen… can I take Ryūji’s body back to the Tsuchi no family?”

Fugaku hesitated.

“Tsunade-sama… shouldn’t we first send the body to the Yamanaka Clan? Have them check his memories?”

“…No.”

She turned, voice cold.

“Take him. Now.”

She couldn’t stay another second.

If she stayed, she was certain the Uchiha would laugh.

The Anbu would barely contain their amusement.

And she… she would never be able to face her people again.

Just as she was about to leave, she paused—only for a breath.

She leaned in, so only Hiruzen could hear.

“…Naruto… how is he?”

Hiruzen’s expression shifted—just for a moment.

A flicker of pain. Of guilt. Of helplessness.

Tsunade Konoha didn’t need an answer.

She already knew.

She saw it in his eyes.

“…Hiruzen… you can’t let Iizumi keep doing this.”

Hiruzen sighed. “The priority is stabilizing Naruto. That’s all that matters now.”

And then, quietly, almost to himself:

“…It’s too late.”

Naruto had already been changed.

The psychological impact of Ryūji’s crimes—his cruelty, his betrayal—had shaped Naruto.

If not for that trauma… Naruto would never have embraced Iizumi’s ideals so quickly.

That boy…

He’s responsible for at least thirty percent of this.

Hiruzen stared at Tsunade Konoha, eyes heavy with reproach.

How do you manage your own people?

Tsunade Konoha blinked.

What?

---

When Tsunade Konoha left with the body, Naruto followed suit, bidding a silent farewell to Uchiha Iizumi.

He walked with Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Anbu dispersing into the shadows.

Silence settled over the Uchiha Compound.

Fugaku exhaled deeply, the air thick with the scent of blood.

The crimson stain on the ground was a constant reminder of what had happened.

He opened his mouth to speak—

But then he saw it.

Uchiha Iizumi was already fifty meters away, walking steadily into the distance.

Just a silhouette.

A back.

No words.

No farewell.

Fugaku closed his mouth.

He was silent.

Then—

“FUGAKU!”

A roar split the air.

Uchiha Setsuna stormed forward, flanked by a group of Uchiha extremists.

Fugaku’s brow twitched.

Setsuna stepped forward, voice laced with fury.

“Two times, the elders have walked through our compound like they own it. And you—you, the Clan Head—did nothing? Is our clan a public garden? A guest house? They come in, they go out—when they please?”

Fugaku felt exhausted.

He had spent days convincing the Hokage that the Uchiha had no interest in the Jinchūriki.

He had endured endless scrutiny.

He had fought for trust.

And now—this?

He met Setsuna’s gaze, voice flat.

“Setsuna-san… are we not part of the Leaf Village? If Uchiha citizens can walk freely through any street in the village… then why shouldn’t others walk through ours?”

He could be patient with the Hokage. With Tsunade.

But with his own people?

No.

His tone hardened.

“Do you think the Leaf is weak because we allow outsiders in? Or do you think we are strong because we choose to be open?”

Setsuna was silenced.

He snorted, turning away.

“Fugaku… your actions lately have shown nothing but weakness. The clan is falling. You’ve lost the will to lead. After all these years… you should step down.”

Fugaku’s eyes narrowed.

A few of the moderate Uchiha began to edge closer to him.

But the majority—still stood with Setsuna.

The air grew tense.

The Uchiha were divided.

And in the silence, the weight of their history pressed down.

But not everyone was on either side.

Three Uchiha Police Force members stood at a distance, watching.

One sneered.

“Look at them. One’s a power-hungry old fool—would’ve been overthrown decades ago if he had any real strength. The other… he’s the real problem. He holds the title, but he’s always bending the rules, always siding with outsiders.”

He spat.

“Root didn’t even realize he was a Uchiha—until he bred a monster like Itachi.”

Another chuckled.

“Watching these two bicker? It’s a waste of time. A pointless political farce.”

“Better to patrol the village than play these childish games.”

Then, the third one spoke, voice quiet.

“What about Iizumi?”

The others turned.

“Uchiha Iizumi?”

“He’s dangerous. Cold. He killed his own clanmate—remember that incident?”

“But… how has he survived under him? How has he stayed alive?”

The first one shrugged.

“Maybe he’s not so bad. At least he’s consistent.”

The second nodded.

“His ‘Absolute Justice’… it’s brutal. But it’s real. Not like these two—just empty words and pride.”

A pause.

Then, the third:

“…Yeah. At least it’s meaningful.”

And with that, they turned and walked away—leaving the storm behind.

---

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end