So Where's the Trap?

Among the clans gifted with dōjutsu, the Uchiha held a status in Konoha undeniably superior to the Hyūga.

It had always chafed at the Hyūga—silent pride bruised beneath the veneer of discipline. But if the Sharingan truly could control Tailed Beasts, the Hyūga would have no choice but to bow.

No ordinary shinobi could handle a Bijū. Even bloodline warriors often barely escaped with their lives.

Just thinking about the destruction wrought during the Night of the Nine-Tails sent a chill through them. Entire districts leveled. Loved ones gone. That was the power of a single beast.

"Who knows?" Ishiki Kujo shrugged, completely unbothered.

Controlling a Tailed Beast demanded absurd ocular power. Without the Mangekyō Sharingan, it was nothing but fantasy.

And as far as Ishiki knew, besides Shisui, no one else in the Uchiha Clan had awakened that level of power.

Uchiha Fugaku? In the manga, he'd never been shown to possess the Mangekyō. Sure, the anime gave him one—but Ishiki didn't buy it.

Some fans claimed he awakened it during the Third Shinobi War, having seen too much death. Others argued that the Uchiha wouldn't rebel without a Mangekyō among them.

Ishiki thought that was nonsense.

If surviving the Third War was all it took to awaken Mangekyō, there'd be dozens of them by now. Plenty of Uchiha had returned from that hell.

And how could the clan be so sure their eyes could control a Bijū? Naruto had been closely protected by the Third. They didn't have another Jinchūriki to experiment on. The only reference was the Nine-Tails being manipulated on the night of the attack.

But even then, its eyes didn't reflect Mangekyō—they just had the basic three tomoe.

So if the Uchiha believed a fully matured Sharingan could control a Tailed Beast, that theory wasn't entirely delusional—but it was baseless.

The idea that Fugaku's eyes could see the future? Please.

If he was clairvoyant, why didn't he see Uchiha Obito—the traitor behind everything—lurking in the shadows?

The truth was, Mangekyō wasn't some common family heirloom. In over a thousand years of Uchiha history, there had only been a handful. The fact that so many had emerged in this generation already bordered on ridiculous.

This wasn't the Boruto era yet. Power scaling hadn't gone completely insane.

Still, the intel from Iwa-nin had clarified Danzo's methods.

He'd sold them out.

Part of it was accurate intel—team structure, known names. Once names were leaked, researching abilities was trivial.

Part of it was fabricated to spark fear. That a Konoha squad might possess knowledge on Tailed Beast control.

For Iwa, it was a win-win. Kill Konoha shinobi. Uncover secrets. Even if it turned out to be false, it was still a tactical maneuver during wartime.

Only Konoha lost in this deal. And Ishiki knew—his team wasn't the only one operating in the Land of Grass.

Danzo's play was brutal. Calculated. And nearly untraceable.

He could just claim an intelligence leak—blame the Uchiha for spreading false rumors about Sharingan and Bijū. And without evidence that Root shinobi had attacked them, there'd be no proof tying him to the operation.

Not a complicated scheme—but incredibly hard to counter.

At most, he'd make a few enemies: a Hyūga from the Branch family, a minor Aburame, and a lone Inuzuka jōnin with little clan support. Danzo wouldn't care.

Everything was finally coming into focus.

Ishiki's squad didn't waste time. They pivoted east, heading deeper into the Land of Grass.

Trying to escape at the border was too risky now. The safer route would be to pass through the Land of Rain, then reenter the Fire Country near the main forward base.

Longer, yes—but safer.

If Ze, Tokuma, and Muta couldn't see Danzo's hand by now, they weren't worthy of their flak jackets.

"…Something's wrong." After a few kilometers, Ze came to a sudden stop, his expression grim. "If Danzo really wanted us dead, there's no way he'd let us walk out of Grass Country alive."

"You're right," Ishiki replied. A sphere of water materialized in his palm, shimmering with chakra.

He'd reached the same conclusion after interrogating the Iwa-nin.

Danzo wouldn't be so shortsighted. He knew they'd try to escape east once the trap was revealed. That left only three options:

— Have Root operatives hunt them down inside Grass.

— Set a trap at the Rain–Grass border.

— Ambush them inside the Land of Rain.

Ishiki believed Danzo would combine option one and three.

After all, not all Root shinobi had died in the earlier battle. Some had escaped. Perfect trackers.

If they found the trail, they'd expose their location. Or worse—lead the enemy straight to them.

Even if they made it through, entering the Rain Country would be hell.

Ishiki knew something the others didn't:

Danzo had connections in the Land of Rain. Specifically—with Hanzo of the Salamander.

Back in the Third Great Ninja War, when the Akatsuki first emerged, Hanzo had seen them as a threat. He allied with Danzo, ambushed them, and personally killed Yahiko—the group's first leader.

Afterward, the Akatsuki faded from the public eye.

Rain Country was still in turmoil, sure—but no organization truly threatened Hanzo's grip.

And the firmer Hanzo's power base, the more freedom Danzo had to operate there.

If Danzo wanted them dead, Rain was his best hunting ground.

Sure, in the future, Hanzo would lose power. Rain-nin bearing scratched forehead protectors would rise in rebellion. Their leader? Nagato, the Rinnegan-wielder.

But that hadn't happened yet.

For now, crossing Rain meant walking into Danzo's backyard.

Ishiki tapped into the Hamon of the forest, feeling the rhythm of nearby life.

He sensed it—movement. Faint, but close.

Several figures were trailing them—likely the Root shinobi who had fled earlier.

Their presence meant only one thing:

They'd been found. And it was only a matter of time before the trap truly snapped shut.