Cautious Eyes: An Uchiha's Path

"I hope everyone in the village can live like one big family, and that all their lives will be happy."

Uchiha Kai nodded as he looked into Namikaze Minato's clear, determined eyes.

That had always been Minato's dream.

Perhaps it was Jiraiya's influence. Many of his ideals were uncannily similar to his future son, Uzumaki Naruto.

They were both heirs to Jiraiya's teachings—or perhaps more accurately, to the prophecy of the Great Toad Sage of Mount Myōboku.

That so-called "Great Toad Sage" had lived since the time of the Sage of Six Paths.

In a way, he had guided—or misled—Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki and his brother Hamura into rebelling against their mother, Kaguya.

Not that it was necessarily a bad thing. Without that rebellion, the shinobi world might never have been born.

Still, the dream of "true understanding among all people" was an ideal that, while noble, was far removed from reality.

In the ancient past, there were no nations or hidden villages. The split between Asura and Indra, the sons of the Sage, seemed at first to be about hatred.

And in that old world, the dream of "mutual understanding" did carry weight.

But times had changed.

Now, the world was divided into countries and villages. Shinobi served as extensions of political power.

Geopolitical and resource conflicts replaced clan feuds.

Take the Land of Wind: barren deserts with barely enough fertile land to sustain life. No wonder the people there yearned for oases—to at least survive through agriculture instead of relying on costly imports.

Other nations had their own issues. The moment the daimyo system and the hidden village system were founded, seeds of conflict were already sown.

Smaller nations fared even worse. Caught between major powers, their lands became perpetual battlegrounds.

Every time a shinobi war broke out, they were the first to bleed.

Their existence seemed less about independence and more about serving as buffer zones—cannon fodder for the ambitions of larger nations.

And the great nations? They never hesitated. For the sake of national interest or pride, they marched to war again and again.

"Your ideals are beautiful, Captain Minato," Uchiha Kai said, tone sincere but serious. "But I think that dream only works within our village."

"That's exactly what I meant," Minato replied, blinking in mild confusion. "I'm talking about the village—Konoha."

"I understand." Kai looked down briefly, then back up. "Wishing for happiness within a single village is a noble dream. But even within Konoha, not everyone shares the same vision. And beyond it? The gap only widens."

He didn't press the point further. That wasn't the goal today.

"That said, I want to share my current understanding of the village. I need to know how you plan to transform it."

"Go ahead, Kai-kun." Minato nodded gently.

He could already sense what Kai was getting at. And while he didn't know where Kai had picked up this line of thought—maybe from something Jiraiya wrote—he was willing to listen.

Describing the village as a melting pot intrigued him. The village as a furnace, and its people the alloyed metals... forged together by purpose.

That was the dream he believed in.

"Minato-san," Kai asked evenly, "how do you view the current structure of the village?"

"Naruto, Konoha's leadership, clan shinobi, civilian shinobi, and villagers," Minato said without hesitation.

It was clear to anyone who looked. Though Konoha aimed to give all shinobi equal rights, disparities still existed—especially between clan and non-clan shinobi.

Kai nodded.

"Exactly. But have you ever noticed that when we talk about someone in the village, we often begin with, 'Which clan is he from?' or, 'Is he a civilian?' Not, 'He's a Konoha ninja.'"

He spread his hands slightly, continuing.

"You might think this is just an internal matter. But it's no different outside the village. If I met an enemy shinobi, what would be his first thought upon seeing me?"

Minato was silent for a beat, then admitted: "He'd probably think... you're a member of the Uchiha clan."

He frowned, realizing the implications.

It was a truth he hadn't consciously questioned before. People were always labeled—by family, clan, bloodline. It was the same everywhere.

"In simple terms, this is identity politics." Kai's voice was calm, but firm. "Civilian shinobi think clans have unfair advantages. Clans believe civilians are expendable.

"They were all supposed to be 'Konoha shinobi'. But they've become divided—isolated. Each group closes itself off, protecting its own, resenting the other."

He paused.

"And the clearest example of this? The Uchiha."

He didn't elaborate. He didn't need to.

Minato fell quiet, deep in thought. The weight of it all settled over him like a leaden shroud.

The Hyuga, the Uchiha, the Nara, the Yamanaka, the Akimichi—every clan stood apart.

Even the Ino–Shika–Cho alliance was its own tight-knit world. But because they formed a bloc, they were still isolated from others.

Now that Kei had pointed it out, it was obvious.

Minato suddenly realized something chilling: this fragmentation had begun during the reign of the Third Hokage.

By dividing the clans and fostering mistrust, Hiruzen had, perhaps unintentionally, made it easier to control them.

Each group was small, siloed, and suspicious of the rest. Easy to suppress. Easy to manipulate.

And the Uchiha? Isolated more than any.

"I didn't realize..." Minato murmured. "I didn't think it had gotten this bad."

"It has," Kai said. "The First Hokage, Senju Hashirama, created the shinobi rank system to unite all ninja—clan and civilian—under one merit-based structure: genin, chūnin, jōnin.

"But during the Third Hokage's reign, that system lost its meaning. Instead of leveling the field, identity politics returned. We began dividing ourselves not by rank, but by blood and background."

Minato's expression darkened.

"He always said... 'clan shinobi and civilians are equal.' But now I see—those were just words."

Confusion swirled in his mind. What were Sarutobi's real motives?

Had the Third simply failed to uphold Hashirama's vision?

Or... had he acted to preserve his own power?

Kai didn't have the answers either. But he had studied these dynamics in his past life—back when political theory and social structures were part of everyday discourse in his world.

Now, he simply repurposed that knowledge.

"And so," Kai continued with a weary sigh, "instead of a horizontal system based on merit, the village is now vertical—defined by identity and political role.

"And the worst part?" He looked straight at Minato. "Tell me: were Sarutobi Hiruzen and Shimura Danzō clan shinobi or civilians?"

Minato froze.

He had no answer.