NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 21: The Omen of the Golden Eggwich
The Next Day
Naori Uchiha walked through the quiet streets of Konoha, her destination clear in her mind—Ms. Toshimi's shop. Her goal? The legendary *Golden Eggwich.*
It was more than just a sandwich. It was said to wash away sorrow, to melt pain like snow in the sun. Citizens, shinobi, and even travelers from distant lands gathered once a month for a chance to taste it. The odds were nearly impossible—a one-in-a-thousand chance. No amount of skill, dojutsu, or trickery could tip fate in one's favor. A powerful seal concealed the prize, blocking even the Byakugan's gaze. And to keep things fair, each person was allowed only a single purchase.
Naori knew the taste well. She had been lucky once before. The memory alone made her mouth water—the perfectly seasoned yolk, the soft but sturdy bread, the rich sauce it marinated in, and the final kick of the shop's signature spicy mayo. Absolute perfection.
The legend behind it was simple: Konoha's *Golden Hen* laid only one golden egg per week. That egg became the centerpiece of the rarest sandwich in the village. No favoritism. No shortcuts. Only luck. Even the Hokage himself honored the tradition, once presenting Ms. Toshimi with a symbolic key to the village in recognition of her shop's importance.
For the Uchiha, who had long been regarded with fear and suspicion despite their status as the village's founders, this shop was different. Ms. Toshimi welcomed everyone, regardless of their clan or background. Despite losing her husband and son in the Nine-Tails attack, she bore no hatred toward the Uchiha. She refused to allow such prejudice near her shop, making it clear that those who harbored it were not welcome.
A woman like her, Naori thought, truly embodied the *Will of Fire.*
And if Ms. Toshimi ever decided to run for Hokage, Naori would be the first to cast her support. Naori envisioned her ideal world. Peace through "Golden Eggwiches"—one heart at a time.
Naori stepped into Ms. Toshimi's shop, the familiar warmth of the small restaurant wrapping around her like a cherished memory. The scent of freshly baked bread and sizzling ingredients filled the air, mingling with the chatter of hopeful customers all vying for the legendary prize.
Behind the counter, Ms. Toshimi looked up from arranging sandwiches and immediately smiled. "Ah, Naori! Here for the Golden Eggwich again?" she asked, her voice rich with familiarity and amusement.
Naori gave a firm, determined nod.
The old woman chuckled, pausing for a moment as nostalgia flickered in her eyes. "Still the same nod as when you were a little girl," she mused. "Like nothing's changed."
Naori smiled at the thought but said nothing, her focus locked on the bin where the sandwiches waited. Slowly, she reached in and pulled one out, the foil cool in her hands.
Around her, the atmosphere was as lively as ever. The soft murmur of disappointed but satisfied chewing filled the shop as customers took their first bites, realizing they hadn't won—but still enjoying the delicious food nonetheless. Children, bright-eyed and eager, clutched their sandwiches with the same hopeful anticipation she once had at their age.
Taking a deep breath, Naori peeled back the foil and took a bite.
The moment the rich, runny yolk hit her tongue, her body froze. The perfectly seasoned egg, the slight crispness of the bread, the tang of the sauce—it was unmistakable.
She had won.
Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks before she could stop them. The emotions hit all at once—pure, unfiltered joy.
For a heartbeat, the shop was silent. Then someone gasped.
"She won!"
The entire room erupted in cheers.
Applause rang out, voices rising in celebration as confetti rained down from the ceiling. The crowd gathered around, clapping and laughing, sharing in her triumph as Ms. Toshimi proudly stepped forward to announce her victory.
Naori wiped at her tears, overwhelmed by the moment, the taste of the Golden Eggwich still lingering on her tongue.
Peace through Golden Eggwiches. One heart at a time.
----------
Naori wiped the last of her happy tears away, savoring the lingering taste of the Golden Eggwich on her tongue. The celebration around her was still in full swing—cheers, confetti, pats on the back. Ms. Toshimi beamed with pride as people clapped for her, their joy genuine.
And yet… a cold feeling suddenly crept into her chest.
Something was wrong.
Her stomach twisted, not from the sandwich but from the weight of memory crashing over her like a wave.
This wasn't the first time she had won. She remembered every victory vividly, each moment of elation—only for it to be followed by bitter misfortune.
The first time, she had been so ecstatic she sprinted out of the shop, only to run straight into a lamp post. As if that wasn't enough, she stubbed her toe so hard she limped the rest of the day.
The second time had been worse. She had just arrived at the Academy, riding high on her luck, when a stray wooden kunai from shuriken practice smacked her right in the back of the head.
Then there was the third time. She had just returned from a difficult mission when one of the Uchiha boys worked up the nerve to confess to her. She rejected him politely—but his fangirls didn't take it well. Before she knew it, she was in the middle of an all-out brawl, defending herself while a stray ball from a child slammed into her face. That was all the other girls needed to pounce. It had been an embarrassing loss, one that forced her to go on a revenge tour just to regain her dignity.
But none of those compared to the last time she won.
She had barely finished chewing when a messenger from the clan elders appeared at her door. The news was simple, sharp, and devastating.
Her father had died on the battlefield.
Naori's hands clenched into fists as she stared at the empty wrapper in front of her.
The Golden Eggwich was incredible, but it never came without a price.
This wasn't just a meal. It was an omen.
Something was on the horizon. Something terrible.
The taste of the yolk was still on her tongue, but now, it felt heavy. Like the weight of fate pressing down on her shoulders.
The Hawk's Call
As Naori stepped into the Uchiha compound, the familiar hum of conversation filled the air. The chatter was low, but it buzzed with a particular intensity that she couldn't ignore. It was the kind of energy that came only when the clan was on edge, when tempers ran hot and words could easily ignite something far worse.
"Did you hear? There's a clan meeting tonight," one voice whispered, carrying just enough tension to catch Naori's attention.
"Yeah, the Hawks are at it again. They're really pushing for a stronger stance, something big this time," another voice responded, barely hiding their unease.
Naori moved closer, her ears sharp for the words she knew would follow. The Uchiha clan had been divided for years, but recently, it felt like the rift was growing wider, deeper.
"The Hokage has been favoring the other clans too much," a third voice muttered, almost bitterly. "It's time we put the village in its place."
"Not this again," came the voice of a young man, clearly frustrated. "Every time they bring this up, it ends in nothing but shouting matches. We need to be smart, not rash."
The word "Hawks" cut through the air like a knife. Naori could almost feel the heat rise in the room as the factions took their sides. The Hawks, the radical faction of the Uchiha clan, had always been vocal in their belief that the Uchiha should rule Konoha, that they were the rightful leaders of the village. Their words were sharp, cutting, demanding action. The Dove faction, on the other hand, favored peace and cooperation with the Hokage—viewing the village's current situation with a more cautious eye. But recently, Naori had noticed the balance shifting.
The Hawks were rising.
"I'm telling you, it's the right time," one of the older members said, his voice thick with conviction. "We're the strongest clan in the village. The Hokage can't protect us forever."
"You want us to fight back? After everything the Hokage has done for us?" another voice shot back, the skepticism evident in their tone.
"You call it cowardice. I call it survival," a third chimed in, his words dripping with disdain. "Do you have the pride to stick your chest out so boldly? Do you have the strength to stand up for what's right, instead of bowing to the Hokage like everyone else?"
Naori could hear the mocking undertone in the voice, the challenge ringing clear. It was the kind of language the Hawks used—righteous, fierce, and demanding. A constant push for power, for dominance.
Her footsteps slowed as she reached the gathering place. She had avoided these meetings for years, preferring the quiet stability of the Dove faction. They were cautious, careful, pragmatic. But Naori knew the Hawks were rising, and the growing tension between the two factions could no longer be ignored. The war was over, but the scars it left on the Uchiha were still fresh. Many members of the clan felt like they had been left behind, overlooked, or worse—sacrificed.
She paused at the door, listening to the heated conversation inside. The Hawk faction was louder now, bolder, and their words were starting to gain momentum. Naori had never been one for confrontation, but she knew something had to change.
It was time for her to make an appearance.
She stepped inside, the door creaking softly as she entered. The room went silent for a moment, eyes turning toward her. No one said anything, but the tension was palpable. The Hawks knew she was a member of the Dove faction, a voice for peace and diplomacy. But tonight, she wasn't here to speak for anyone but herself.
She was here to listen.
Naori squared her shoulders and took her place among the gathering, her presence marking the beginning of a new chapter. She didn't know what the future held, but one thing was certain: the Uchiha clan was teetering on the edge of something dangerous, and the words spoken tonight would shape the course of their destiny.