The Young Third Hokage
Uchiha Fugaku, now aware that he had transmigrated into the body of the future Uchiha clan head, resolved that he would not allow the clan to be wiped out so ignobly again. Not by the village. Not by his own son.
The first step was clear: power.
At thirteen, Fugaku had already awakened the Three Tomoe Sharingan. Among the Uchiha, this was notable—especially for someone not yet of Jonin rank. While not extraordinary in comparison to geniuses like Uchiha Shisui or his future son, Itachi, it was still above average. The majority of Uchiha awakened the third tomoe only in adulthood, if at all. Many plateaued at the Two Tomoe stage, their emotional stimulus and chakra control never reaching the necessary heights.
In the wooded training grounds behind the clan district—situated along the Naka River—Fugaku stood beneath a canopy of thick-leaved trees. Hidden among them were numerous training targets, placed there by generations of Uchiha who mastered the art of precision and perception. The Sharingan wasn't merely for battle—it was for reading the flow of movement, chakra, and death.
Uchiha Fugaku activated his Sharingan. The red glow pulsed, three tomoe swirling to life in each eye. Immediately, his surroundings became sharp—every insect's wingbeat, every rustling branch rendered into crystal detail.
He leapt, flipping mid-air, hands filled with kunai. A flurry of projectiles left his fingers, striking targets in rapid succession. Several kunai collided mid-air, redirecting others toward hidden bullseyes, a technique requiring premeditated trajectory calculation—an Uchiha specialty.
He landed smoothly, eyes scanning. Every target had been struck perfectly.
Still not enough.
He formed hand seals, quick and seamless—his chakra molded without hesitation. Taking a deep breath, he expelled the Great Fireball Technique (Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu). The signature Uchiha jutsu exploded outward, a massive inferno roaring through the forest clearing. The heat warped the air, and leaves nearby curled and blackened.
Again, he wove signs—this time for the Phoenix Fire Technique (Katon: Hōsenka no Jutsu), releasing several smaller fireballs that peppered the forest, charring the bark and igniting dry twigs.
By nightfall, the training ground was scorched—branches snapped and burned, fallen leaves reduced to ash. He had thoroughly reacquainted himself with the jutsu known to the original Fugaku, and then some.
---
The Uchiha compound was lit brightly with paper lanterns. It was a scene of evening bustle—shinobi returning from patrol, younger clan members gathered to share stories or food, and older ones sipping sake on their verandas.
Fugaku returned to his courtyard, offering short greetings to clan members along the way.
"Fugaku?" came a voice from within the house. "Come in. There's something we need to discuss."
It was his father, Uchiha Tenjo, head of the Uchiha and captain of the Konoha Military Police Force—a powerful role given to the Uchiha after the founding of the village.
"Yes, Father."
Sliding the door open, he stepped into the house where several older Uchiha were gathered.
"Uncles. Elders," Fugaku greeted, bowing respectfully.
"Fugaku has grown well," said one elder, a police officer. "Awakening the Three Tomoe before adulthood... he may truly inherit the clan leadership."
Tenjo gave a modest smile. "We all play a role. But thank you for recognizing his efforts. I hope you'll continue to support and guide him."
"We will," the elder replied. "The Uchiha must remain strong."
After the elders left, Fugaku was called again—this time to his father's study.
"You've brought honor to our clan these past three years, Fugaku," Tenjo said as he sat behind a low desk. "Today, when I reported to the Hokage, I submitted your name for promotion. Hiruzen Sarutobi approved. Tomorrow, you'll report for your Jonin Promotion Mission."
Fugaku bowed deeply. "Yes, Father."
Tenjo's gaze darkened with seriousness.
"Since the death of Uchiha Kagami during the Second Great Ninja War, our clan has had no presence in the upper echelons of Konoha's leadership. Not on the council. Not in the Hokage's advisors. We once stood beside the Senju in founding this village, yet now we're treated with suspicion, confined to the police force."
Fugaku listened silently, absorbing the political undertones.
"You must rise, Fugaku. I believe in your potential. If anyone can awaken the Mangekyō Sharingan, it is you. And with that power, perhaps... return the Uchiha to the place of respect it deserves."
Fugaku nodded. "I will work hard. You have my word."
He said nothing about the cost of awakening the Mangekyo—the deep trauma, the sacrifices that canon had revealed. Nor did he mention the more obscure path to the Eternal Mangekyō, which required the transplantation of a sibling's eyes. Fugaku, an only child, would have to seek another route—if he ever chose to walk that dark path at all.
Tenjo sighed and stood, patting Fugaku's shoulder with quiet pride before departing the room.
---
Konoha was at its zenith.
The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, stood unchallenged. Konoha's White Fang, Sakumo Hatake, was still alive and hailed as the strongest in the village. The Sannin had yet to receive their legendary titles, but were already feared across the continent. Compared to these figures, even a fully matured Sharingan user barely scratched the upper tiers of power.
But Fugaku didn't need to be the strongest yet. He just needed to begin.
---
The next morning, Fugaku was ready. Ninja tools, paper bombs, wires, smoke pellets—meticulously arranged in his pouch. He stood before the Hokage's office, its curved rooftop casting a long shadow across the circular courtyard.
He knocked.
"Enter," came a deep voice.
Inside, Hiruzen Sarutobi sat behind his desk—his expression calm, his brown hair and beard neatly trimmed, the Sarutobi Clan's will visible in his sharp gaze. This was not the weary old man of later years, but a Hokage in his prime.
"Lord Hokage, Uchiha Fugaku reporting."
Sarutobi nodded with a faint smile. "A prodigy indeed. Three Tomoe at thirteen… you remind me of Kagami, my old comrade. He was just a few years older when he fought beside us in the First War."
Fugaku bowed respectfully. "I thank you for the praise, Lord Hokage, but I still have far to go to live up to Kagami-sama's legacy."
The Hokage's eyes lingered for a moment, unreadable.
"Your promotion mission begins now. A scroll awaits you with the details—report to the briefing station in the northwest sector. Dismissed."
"Yes, sir."
As Fugaku left the office, he didn't look back. The Hokage's tone had been friendly, but in this village, even friendly faces could mask sharp daggers.
This mission was more than a promotion.
It was a test.
And perhaps the first step in changing the Uchiha's fate.