The next few days, Kazuki spent his free afternoons wandering deeper into the Uchiha district.
Not aimlessly — he was mapping it in his head, corner by corner, like a shinobi casing a mission site.Except here, the mission wasn't "assassinate the target." It was "find out what makes these people tick without looking suspicious."
And what he found… surprised him.
The inner district wasn't just rows of old houses with crests stamped on their gates. It was practically its own little village — a perfectly self-contained ecosystem of Uchiha life.
There were public dojos where children no older than seven were drilling basic taijutsu stances under the sharp eyes of veteran chuunin instructors. Every punch landed with a little grunt, every stance corrected with a smack of a bamboo stick.
A small library — Uchiha-only — sat quietly behind a walled garden, filled with scrolls on history, tactics, and clan-specific jutsu theory. When Kazuki peeked in, the smell of old paper and ink hit him so hard it felt like stepping into another era.
And the baths — hot spring baths, no less — split by age and gender, free for clan members. He didn't dare try them yet. There were too many chances of running into a shirtless prodigy who'd awaken his Sharingan mid-conversation.
But the real gem?A little sweets & tea house run by an elderly kunoichi everyone called Obaa Jun.
Her back was slightly hunched, but her hands? Those could crush walnuts like grapes. She had a permanent scowl that somehow made her dango taste even better — soft, chewy, glazed with a perfect sweet soy sauce. Kazuki swore they might actually have been laced with addictive chakra.
The more he explored, the more he realized this wasn't just a clan of fighters.
This was a clan of rituals.
Everything the Uchiha did seemed to have weight, a symbolic layer.And the things Kazuki stumbled upon weren't in any anime episode or databook.
The Mirror Greeting Ritual Every morning, without fail, children — even toddlers — would bow lightly to their own reflection. In polished mirrors, in clear water, even in the shiny lacquer of a door. The gesture was small, almost subconscious, but there was meaning in it."Trust your sight. Trust your mind."
Even the youngest orphans did it. Kazuki tried it one morning out of curiosity. It felt… oddly grounding. And a little awkward. Especially when Azula caught him and said, "Wow, you really like your own face, huh?"
Sweet Bowl at the Entrance Most homes had a ceramic bowl of wrapped sweets near the front door. Guests were expected to take one before stepping inside. The saying went: Sweeten your spirit before stepping into another's space.
Kazuki made the mistake of taking two at Obaa Jun's place. She didn't say a word. She just looked at him. That was somehow worse.
'Silent Apology' Mochi Apparently, if you wronged someone — broke something, spoke rudely, acted selfishly — you didn't have to say "sorry" aloud. You just left a soft mochi by their cushion or sleeping mat. It would always be accepted. No words required.
Kazuki witnessed it firsthand when one kid accidentally spilled tea on Kuroha's paperwork. The next day, there was a single mochi on her desk. She didn't eat it right away. She stared at it for a long moment… then smiled, the faintest curve of lips, and popped it in her mouth.
Eye Contact Rules Unlike some shinobi clans where avoiding eye contact meant respect, the Uchiha believed the exact opposite. Holding someone's gaze showed sincerity and trust. Looking away mid-conversation could be considered insulting — or worse, deceitful.
"If you can't meet someone's gaze," Kuroha once told him while correcting his brush strokes, "how can they ever trust your word?"
The days passed quickly.Kazuki took to chores with quiet diligence, often finishing early so he could slip into the library and pore over history scrolls or listen to the older orphans debate fire jutsu theory like it was a playground game.
He made a casual friend — Azula, a tomboy with quick hands and quicker comebacks, who hoarded caramel sticks like they were currency. She once told him, "If I die on a mission, bury me with my stash." Kazuki didn't doubt she meant it.
It didn't take long for Azula to corrupt him.
One afternoon, she leaned in and whispered, "I've got eight tokens saved. You've got… what? Six?"
"Seven."
"Perfect." Her grin widened. "We're going all in tonight."
Kazuki blinked. "All in…?"
"The Candy Exchange Booth. No saving for tomorrow. No restraint. We're blowing it all on the big stuff — strawberry mochi, cinnamon dango, the legendary mint toffees."
"I was saving for—"
"Kazuki. You could die tomorrow in training. Live a little."
Somehow, she convinced him.That evening, the two of them sat cross-legged in the courtyard with a mountain of sweets between them, chewing and laughing until Kazuki's stomach hurt.Obaa Jun walked by, saw the pile, and muttered something about "sugar-drunk children."
Between bites, Azula decided it was her moral duty to "prepare" him for next week.
"First day? They blindfold you, spin you around, and make you dodge kunai."
Kazuki frowned. "That can't be—"
"Second day? Carry a log twice your body weight up a hill while reciting the clan history backwards."
"Azula—"
"And third day? You have to catch a chicken. In the rain. While a jounin throws shuriken at you."
He gave her a flat look. "…You're lying."
She smirked. "Maybe. Maybe not."
On the third day of exploring, Kazuki was heading back to the orphanage when he accidentally broke one of the most sacred Uchiha rules.
He was mid-conversation with an older chuunin — tall, confident, long legs, and a chest that could've been used as a battlefield distraction technique. For a split second, his eyes dropped. Just a fraction of a second.
Unfortunately, in Uchiha territory, that was enough for the gods of awkwardness to strike.
Before he could snap his gaze back up, a familiar voice slid into the moment like silk.
"Oh my, Kazuki," Kuroha purred from behind him, "already undressing clan members with your eyes? My, my… and here I thought you were the innocent type."
The chuunin raised an amused eyebrow.Kazuki's brain short-circuited. "I— That's— No! I was just—"
Kuroha stepped closer, so close he could smell the faint, sweet scent of her perfume. She leaned forward just enough for her lips to almost brush his ear.
"Mmh… if you're going to stare at a woman, at least have the courage to hold her gaze," she whispered, her tone playful but dripping with challenge. "Around here, that's how we know if you're worth our time."
Something in Kazuki snapped. His face was burning, but his mouth was moving before his brain could stop it.
"I always maintain eye contact," he blurted, glaring up at her. "It's just your chuunin friend's bust was really distracting, alright? My eyes dropped on instinct!"
The chuunin blinked. Then she burst into laughter so loud it turned heads down the street.
Kuroha? She froze for half a second then her lips curved into a slow, wicked grin.
"…Bold," she murmured, brushing a fingertip along his jaw as she passed. "But next time, Kazuki, you might want to keep that little observation to yourself. Unless, of course…" her gaze flicked downward for half a heartbeat, "…you enjoy the trouble it'll bring."
She walked away, hips swaying in a way that was absolutely on purpose.
Kazuki stood rooted in place, equal parts mortified and weirdly triumphant. Azula, who had been leaning against a wall nearby, grinned like she'd just been handed premium gossip.
"…Oh, I'm definitely telling the others about this."
The days blurred after that — chores, exploring, candy splurges, and more Kuroha moments than he knew how to handle.But underneath it all, something was changing.
For the first time in either life, Kazuki felt it.Belonging.
No one mocked him for being quiet.No one told him he wasn't enough.He was expected to work, yes — but also to grow. To earn. To exist.
It was… warm.Unfamiliar.Almost painful.
Hope.
By Sunday evening, he had ten candy tokens in his pouch and a strange flutter in his chest.Tomorrow was Monday.His first day of shinobi training.
He tightened his sandals and looked out at the glowing Uchiha crest carved above the main hall.
This world — for all its danger, all its battles, all its blood and chakra and madness — had already given him something he never had before.
A place.A purpose.And finally…
A beginning.