Kento was dead.
In the end, he failed to keep his promise to Mitsuki. Kento had spent most of his life under the shadow of war.
He couldn't protect Chiyoko, never cleared the misunderstanding between them, and missed his final chance to celebrate his son's birthday. His life ended filled with regret.
Mitsuki sat in silence, sorting through the final belongings delivered by the ANBU. Just a few personal items — his body would be handled by the village's war casualties unit, then buried in Konoha's cemetery after the funeral. Until then, family members could visit to see the remains one last time.
Among the items was a long rectangular box that stood out starkly from the rest—untouched by war, completely pristine. Clearly, this was a birthday gift Kento had prepared in advance.
Mitsuki hesitated, then untied the ribbon and opened the box. He had a vague idea of what it might be, but even then, he was still taken aback.
He remembered once joking with Kento about a lightning-style technique he'd imagined—saying that, if you forged a weapon using chakra-conductive metal, it might become a hand-signless jutsu. It was never meant to be serious — just an excuse to keep the conversation going between father and son.
But Kento remembered.
Inside the box was a short sword, sheathed. Mitsuki drew it. A straight blade, roughly 30 centimeters long — on the longer side for its category.It gleamed cold white, giving the illusion of slicing through the very night itself.
Even though Kento was an elite jonin — well-paid by any standard — this kind of weapon, forged entirely from chakra-conductive metal, was far beyond his means. Mitsuki remembered that, in all of Konoha, only the Second Hokage and Asuma (in the future) had ever wielded such gear.
"Could it have been war spoils from Father's last mission?"
He noticed a card tied to the hilt.
"Happy Birthday – From Uchiha En and Shimizu Kento"
Mitsuki vaguely recalled the name Uchiha En — a teammate of Kento's who had sent gifts for previous birthdays, too.That made sense. The Uchiha clan had deep ties with the Ninken cats, the group responsible for producing most of the high-grade ninja tools in the shinobi world.
Still, this blade was no small favor — En and Kento must've had an unusually close bond.
But none of that mattered now.
Mitsuki gently slid the sword back into its sheath, returned it to the box, and carefully retied the ribbon. He decided he'd reopen it on his actual birthday.
There's a saying: objects carry memories. As he continued tidying up, Mitsuki's mind became cluttered with thoughts.
He lay back on the living room floor, pondering:
Was he mourning because he truly saw Kento as a father… Or because this loss reminded him of the family he'd left behind in his past life?
If he were honest, Mitsuki hadn't felt crushed when he first heard the news. Yes, he'd decided to embrace this new life with a fresh heart — but the truth was, he and Kento hadn't spent much time together.
After Chiyoko's death, Kento had buried himself in missions, drowning in guilt and vengeance.He only began to stabilize when Mitsuki was around three years old.
Their time together had been brief. Kento was quiet, reserved. Most of their conversations had been one-sided — started and carried by Mitsuki.
But was that really the whole truth?
Somewhere deep inside, Mitsuki felt something taking root—an unfamiliar weight pressing on his heart.
The next morning, a knock on the door woke him.
Knock knock knock
He'd fallen asleep on the living room floor without realizing it. Good thing someone knocked — no matter how sturdy his new body was, it was still a child's body. Sleeping on the floor all night wasn't ideal.
He dragged himself up and shuffled to the door.
Standing there was Rin.
Of course, Mitsuki knew Rin from the manga. But in this world, they'd met through the Custody Center. Lady Nohara had originally volunteered there to help Rin make friends.
"Good morning, Mitsuki" she said softly. "You probably haven't had breakfast yet, right? My mom made some tamagoyaki before heading to work, but it feels kinda lonely eating alone…So, I was wondering if you'd eat with me. Is that okay?"
She averted her gaze, fidgeting slightly.
It was a lie.
Rin had obviously heard from her mother about Kento's passing. Even though Lady Nohara had said that Mitsuki was a strong kid who could take care of himself, Rin was still worried and wanted to check on him.
Mitsuki could tell what she was really thinking. Still, it would be rude to keep her standing outside, so he stepped aside.
"You're right — I overslept and missed breakfast. Thanks, Rin, you're a lifesaver. Come in."
"Then… excuse me" she said, stepping in with the lunch box.
Mitsuki was starving. He devoured the tamagoyaki in big, messy bites. Lady Nohara's cooking was amazing — perfectly balanced, fluffy, and beautiful in presentation. Just tapping it gently with chopsticks made it jiggle like pudding.
Rin watched him eat, resting her chin in her hands, completely lost in thought.
"Did I scare her with how I eat? But I used to eat like this at the Custody Center all the time…"
In the Land of Fire, devouring someone's food like that was the highest form of compliment. At the Custody Center, Lady Nohara would always beam with joy whenever Mitsuki ate that way.
She even once joked:
"Aww, if only Mitsuki-chan were my daughter! Then I could watch her eat like this every day at home!"
(Why daughter specifically? Let's not go there…)
Back in the moment, Mitsuki noticed Rin hadn't touched her food. She was just daydreaming again.
He coughed lightly.
"You told me before that tamagoyaki gets tougher when it cools. Don't forget your own advice, Rin."
"Ah—sorry, sorry!"
She snapped out of it and began eating.In truth, she hadn't heard what he said—she was too embarrassed to ask him to repeat it. So she just did what he taught her: If you're flustered, find something to do and stay busy.
"Mitsuki's advice always comes in handy…" Rin was spacing out again.
Mitsuki sighed. "What is she, an old grandma now?"
Still, that short exchange lifted his mood. People have to keep moving forward.
He was still an adult on the inside—he couldn't afford to stand still like a child.
"Get it together, Mitsuki. You've got a second chance at life. Make it count."
With that thought, he reached over and stole a piece of tamagoyaki from Rin's plate, stuffing it into his mouth. Her eyes widened in surprise, and he spoke between bites.
"Rin, help me tidy up a bit, will ya? I've got this rare illness—if I do housework, I'll die."
She had just puffed up her cheeks in protest, like an angry pufferfish…But his absurd request made her deflate like a balloon.
"Fiiine. But no more bullying me! And there's no such thing as that disease, you liar!"
"I'll do my best… No promises."