Ken was knee-deep in a seal array when the knock came.

  Not the polite kind.

  The kind that made his chakra tense, that warned of things wrapped in bck cloaks and old power.

  He opened the door without ceremony.

  Three Uchiha elders stood on the threshold, dressed in ceremonial robes, faces sharp, expressions unreadable.

  “Ken,” the middle one said, voice as dry as ash. “We’ve come to speak.”

  Ken didn’t invite them in.

  But he stepped aside.

  They didn’t care about the space. They cared about control.

  Their eyes roamed over the walls—scrolls, ink, steel, and silence.

  “You’ve been busy,” one said.

  Ken didn’t answer.

  Another one stepped forward. “We know about the seals. Your mark’s been seen in at least three merchant stalls. Chakra suppression, combat tags… not subtle.”

  Ken met his gaze without blinking. “I’m not hiding.”

  “No. But you’re selling cn-developed arts as an outsider.”

  Ken’s jaw shifted slightly. “They’re mine. I made them.”

  “They came from knowledge you inherited. From blood.”

  Ken stepped closer now, calm, but firm. “Then maybe the cn should’ve valued that blood before they threatened mine.”

  That earned a pause.

  The elder in front smoothed his sleeve. “You’ve grown strong. Controlled your Sharingan. We saw the Mist report. The rogue takedown. And the fre reports at the border. You’re not a problem anymore.”

  A silence stretched between them.

  “We’re willing to... forgive the past. Bring you back into the fold. Restore your name. A new position. Resources. Access.”

  Ken tilted his head. “And in return?”

  “You’ll cease public seal work. Begin fire training. Attend inner compound briefings. Accept a supervision protocol to realign your loyalty.”

  Ken blinked slowly.

  Then smiled.

  It wasn’t warm.

  “No.”

  The word nded ft, but final.

  The elder narrowed his eyes. “We are offering you redemption.”

  “I didn’t sin,” Ken said. “You did. You buried the branch to protect your roots.”

  He stepped back, hand still on the door.

  “I said what I meant. I’m not coming back.”

  The silence this time wasn’t surprised.

  It was strategic.

  Then the final elder—the one who hadn’t spoken—did.

  “Then your parents will feel the weight.”

  Ken froze.

  “We’ve pulled funding from the clinic,” the man said. “Effective immediately. Supply contracts void. Protection detail removed.”

  Ken’s Sharingan fred silently.

  “Daiki,” the man continued, “has been removed from vilge patrol rotations. Reassigned to standby status. He will be stationed out of rotation until further notice.”

  Ken didn’t speak.

  Didn’t blink.

  But the door smmed closed a second ter—and he was already gone from the apartment.

  He stood in Hiruzen’s office fifteen minutes ter, still in his street gear, eyes dark.

  “I need a deal,” Ken said.

  The Third Hokage looked up, unsurprised. “They finally moved?”

  Ken nodded once.

  “They’re hurting my family to pull me back in.”

  Hiruzen folded his hands. “And you want protection.”

  “I want stability. For them.”

  Hiruzen considered.

  Then motioned toward the window. “You’ve already made waves, Ken. You’re unofficially a shadow operative. You’ve killed on cssified missions. You’ve survived without a net.”

  He leaned forward.

  “What are you offering?”

  Ken didn’t hesitate.

  “I’ll join ANBU.”

  “When?”

  “As soon as I’m promoted to chūnin.”

  Hiruzen’s eyes narrowed. “You understand what ANBU means?”

  “I’ve already lived like one.”

  “You’ll serve three years minimum.”

  “I’ll give you five if you protect them now.”

  Hiruzen smiled slightly. “No. Three is enough.”

  He picked up a fresh scroll, wrote out a short directive, and sealed it.

  “This is a provisional agreement. Once you pass the chūnin exams, you’ll be inducted under ANBU division twelve. In return…”

  He sealed a second scroll and handed it to Ken.

  “This guarantees housing rights, utility offsets, and an operational budget for a privately-owned civilian medical clinic. Effective tomorrow.”

  Ken took the scroll with steady hands.

  “I’ll hold you to it.”

  “You always do,” Hiruzen said.

  What Ken didn’t see was Shikaku Nara in the adjacent chamber, standing just behind the wall, arms crossed, listening.

  When the door closed behind Ken, Shikaku stepped in.

  “So,” he said, “he’s yours now.”

  “On paper,” Hiruzen replied. “In practice? No one owns that boy.”

  Shikaku gave a half-shrug. “Good. Because I’ve already drafted three infiltration scenarios and he’s on two of them.”

  Hiruzen raised an eyebrow. “You’re moving fast.”

  “I’m not wasting time,” Shikaku replied. “Not with what’s coming.”

  Hiruzen leaned back. “You still think the Uchiha are heading toward rebellion?”

  “I don’t think anymore,” Shikaku said. “I’m watching the cracks widen.”

  Ken returned home that night and found his mother asleep on the couch—exhausted, half-slumped with her medical notes scattered around her.

  He walked to the table.

  Pced the scroll down.

  And whispered:

  “They won’t touch you again.”