CHAPTER 94

The disappearance of Uchiha Yuchi cast a heavy shadow over the Uchiha clan. In response, Fugaku Uchiha, the clan head, issued a strict order: no clan members were to travel alone without approval. Tensions were already high between the Uchiha and the village leadership, and this incident only worsened the unease.

Uchiha Kai, however, was never one to follow orders blindly. Though he had no official tasks at the time, his restlessness—and his agenda—kept him moving. Sneaking out despite Fugaku's mandate, Kai remained careful to avoid drawing attention. If he didn't act, he feared Uchiha Yu might die in that hidden training room beneath the forest floor. That would be problematic—Kai still had plans for him. A dead Uchiha, especially one with secrets, was of no use until Kai had what he needed.

"I really do need to find someone reliable to assist me," Kai muttered, kneeling beside the weakened figure of Uchiha Yu. Yu's gaze was cloudy, full of spite, but he was too weak to resist. Kai changed his bandages and forced some food into his mouth.

The whole affair was unpleasant. Kai hated this kind of waiting. He wanted to resume his experiments, but for now, he was stuck playing nursemaid. Worse, the disappearance of Yuchi didn't just unsettle the Uchiha—it caught the attention of the Hokage's office as well. Konoha feared that any misunderstanding could fracture the already fragile balance with the Uchiha.

Kai had learned well on the battlefield. He never left traces when he moved—at least, not ones people could find. He had Danzo to thank for that, ironically. The old warhawk had done so many covert, shameful things that Hiruzen was constantly trying to manage the fallout. Perhaps that was why the Hyuga hadn't been dispatched to investigate. If they had, Kai might've been forced to flee the village under cover of night.

Still, Uchiha Yu was a liability. Between the constant feeding, bandage changes, and his lack of basic hygiene, Kai was reaching his limit. The training room stank. Whether it was deliberate sabotage or simple neglect, the stench could attract attention. If someone from the Inuzuka clan caught a whiff, things could spiral quickly.

"Damn guy used half the village's stash of scent suppressants," Kai grumbled as he cleaned. "But this won't hold forever. Even with misdirection seals, the smell will give it all away eventually."

Capturing and hiding someone in Konoha wasn't easy. Kai didn't enjoy doing it, but he had his reasons. The village's surveillance net was tight, and though Kai was cautious, he knew there was always a risk of something slipping past him. Thankfully, the situation hadn't blown up—yet. With the war entering its final phase, public attention was drifting elsewhere.

He was right. Kai had been acting obedient, training with Kakashi and others at the public grounds. As days passed, Konoha's investigators relaxed. After all, anyone missing this long was either dead or no longer in the village.

Within the Uchiha, vigilance also waned. The elders had stopped enforcing the internal travel restrictions so strictly. Kai welcomed the freedom. He could finally stop playing caretaker—Yu might even be healthy enough to move soon. Besides, the village was mobilizing again. Might Guy and others had already been dispatched. Aya Hyuga had recovered from her injuries, and it was only a matter of time before Kai would be called upon again.

"I need to make the most of this brief reprieve," Kai thought. "And I'm sick of babysitting this guy."

"What are you spacing out for, Kai?" Ryoko Uchiha asked from across the table. "Eat before it gets cold."

"Right. Sorry," Kai replied, snapping out of his thoughts.

"Don't bring the war home with you," Ryoko added gently. "It's almost over. You don't have to—"

"Ryoko," Keisuke Uchiha interrupted. "Let's just eat. We can't control what the village does. Kai's already chosen his path—he's beyond us now."

His words silenced Ryoko. It was true. Kai's strength and status had surpassed that of his parents, elevating their family's standing within the clan. But they didn't care about status—they just wanted their son to be safe.

"I know what I'm doing," Kai said calmly, setting down his chopsticks. "I've been through worse."

"You barely ate," Ryoko scolded. "Even if you're distracted, don't waste food!"

"I'm used to small rations on the battlefield," Kai explained. "If I ate like this every time, I'd have no stamina left."

"So now you're saying my food's no good?" Ryoko raised an eyebrow.

Kai sighed. He knew she wasn't really mad. It was just her way of staying close to him, showing warmth through playful scolding. Kei appreciated it—even if he couldn't always show it.

Later that night, Kai returned to his room. He picked up a book and read until the lights dimmed and the house fell into silence. At exactly nine o'clock, Ryoko came by to remind him to sleep.

When the house was dark, Kai formed a shadow clone, donned a black combat uniform, and slipped out into the night. He moved carefully, avoiding patrols as he crossed rooftops and slipped through the trees, heading toward the secret forest hideout.

But what he didn't know was that he wasn't alone. As he moved through the darkness, someone was watching—quiet, hidden, and waiting.