When exactly did the Uchiha Clan Massacre occur?
Despite carrying the memories of a previous life, Uchiha Yue still couldn't pinpoint the precise date. The timeline in the original Naruto series was notoriously vague, clouded by contradictory interpretations among fans, and lacking explicit markers. Even with everything he remembered, Yue had no way of referencing a calendar to calculate the exact day.
However, there was one scene that stood out in his mind—a moment burned deep into his memory. A lone figure, Uchiha Itachi, perched atop a telephone pole, the vast full moon behind him casting a cold glow over his back. That iconic image had marked the beginning of the massacre in the original timeline, a moment seared into every Naruto fan's consciousness.
Using that mental image as a reference, Yue had already begun calculating the timeframe on the very night he awakened his memories and regained clarity. Observing the moon's current phase and comparing it to the image of that haunting full moon, he had estimated a rough countdown to the night everything would end.
It was this deduction that had prevented him from fleeing Konoha in panic and instead driven him to push his strength to the limits.
After all, he still had time.
And more importantly, running away was easier said than done. Back then, his strength had been insufficient to break through the layers of surveillance surrounding the Uchiha Clan.
In the current political climate, tension between the Uchiha and the village's leadership had already reached a critical boiling point. The Third Hokage's diplomacy was faltering, Danzo's influence was growing, and the Uchiha Police Force was increasingly monitored and marginalized. Everyone with the Uchiha name—especially younger ones like himself—were under suspicion. Leaving the village without a mission or official clearance was practically impossible.
And he wasn't even a genin yet—just a student of the Ninja Academy. What excuse could he possibly have to leave the gates of Konoha?
Any attempt to escape would have triggered alarms. If he'd been caught, best-case scenario, he would've been interrogated and detained. Worst case? Silenced permanently.
Even if he did manage to slip out, then what? Endless pursuit from the village, suspicion and exploitation from the other Great Nations, or capture by bandits, missing-nin, or even ROOT itself.
In a world as merciless as this one, there was no safe haven for a rogue Uchiha child with no allies or reputation. His only future would be one of constant fear, hunger, and likely death before he ever had the chance to grow.
In the end, the idea of fleeing had always been a comforting illusion—a mirage that would shatter upon contact with reality.
Could he then change fate through negotiation or political manipulation?
With his status and strength at the time, that idea was even more delusional than running away. He was neither an adult, nor a shinobi with influence. He had no voice among the elders and no power in the clan council. Even Shisui, a prodigy with a Mangekyō Sharingan and Hiruzen's trust, had failed to prevent the tragedy.
So, in the face of powerlessness, there was only one option left: grow stronger, no matter the cost.
Fortunately, he had both his past-life intelligence and the power of the Sharingan—and now, with the addition of the Unreal World, he was accelerating far beyond the limits of any ordinary child.
What had been an impossible path for others, he had walked—and survived.
And now, he stood tall—not just capable of saving himself, but of influencing the outcome of the Uchiha's final night.
This… was the essence of power.
Only the strong could rewrite fate. Everyone else—no matter their ideals or intentions—could only be swept away like illusions in the mist. Mere dreams reflected in still water, shattered by the first ripple of reality.
"There's only about a week left before the moon reaches perfect fullness again. Looks like the countdown's entered its final stage."
Uchiha Yue stood at the window, gazing at the glowing orb in the sky. The moon, so ethereal and beautiful, now felt like the face of a ticking clock—silent, steady, inevitable.
But unlike before, Yue no longer felt panic.
His gaze drifted to a plate resting on the nearby table—still holding the pastry left by Grandma Jinghua, the kind old woman who had cared for him like a second grandmother since childhood. The scent had faded, and only coldness remained—not just in the pastry, but in his eyes.
Even with the memories of another life, he had been born and raised in this village, in this clan. He had lived among these people, laughed and trained beside them, and received nothing but warmth from most of them. They weren't strangers—they were family.
He wasn't some hero. In his previous life, he'd been an ordinary person with no grand ambitions. He cared about the people close to him—nothing more, nothing less.
If his friends and family were safe, he could spare time and effort to help others, maybe even serve the greater good. But if forced to choose? If it came down to strangers versus those he loved?
Then sorry, but the strangers would have to die.
Right now, the Uchiha were his family—his entire world. The ones in Konoha's high places, the ones pushing the clan toward ruin, were nothing but enemies wearing leaf-engraved forehead protectors.
And the truth was plain: the coup had not been born out of greed or treason, but desperation. Years of being watched, isolated, and accused had cornered the clan.
Even proud Uchiha could only endure so much. That they hadn't erupted sooner was a miracle in itself.
"A week, huh?" Yue whispered, turning his gaze toward the distant Hokage Tower. "Good. That's enough. When the time comes, let me see—what it means to stand in front of the Hokage."
With that, Uchiha Yue vanished into the shadows of the room.
Although he had resolved to intervene and protect the Uchiha, reality still demanded preparation.
Victory would require more than strength. He needed knowledge, leverage, and intelligence. And that meant digging into the heart of the village's rot.
So, when Yue next reappeared, it was deep underground—within one of Danzo's many secret ROOT facilities, previously scouted during his Unreal World simulations and intelligence-gathering efforts.
"Typical ROOT," Yue muttered, stepping deeper into the base. "Dark, suffocating, buried beneath stone and secrecy. A perfect reflection of its twisted master."
Years of living in this tomb of shadows—no wonder Danzo Shimura had become so paranoid and ruthless.
In full disguise, Yue wore a swirling orange mask over his face and a black cloak patterned with crimson clouds, mimicking Uchiha Obito's infamous Akatsuki form. His figure flickered and passed like a ghost through traps and seals.
None of the base's defenses triggered. No alarms. No resistance.
"The Hollow technique is ridiculously broken," Yue chuckled, walking through a layered seal that would've stumped even elite jōnin. "I wonder how Obito will feel when he sees me use his tricks better than he does."
Still, as amused as he was, Yue also knew the truth: if he ever met Obito, there would be no conversation.
They would fight. No matter the circumstances, no matter the timing.
Obito was one of the masterminds behind the Uchiha Massacre, even if not its sole cause. And Uchiha Yue, in this life, could never forgive that.
Whether or not the extermination played out exactly the same, a final confrontation between the two was destined.