Brushing the dust off his trousers, Tahara Rokuro stood and walked up to Uchiha Kei.
"Kei, my mom's making braised beef for lunch—want to come? It's tender, savory, and guaranteed to make you drool."
Braised beef was a heavy Northern dish Rokuro had taught his mother, Ashikaga, how to make. It wasn't something from the Naruto world
Ashikaga loved cooking; whenever Rokuro taught her a recipe she picked it up quickly. She already knew dozens of dishes, and Kei had eaten her food before—each time leaving her wanting more.
Kei stuck out her small pink tongue and made a face of delicious struggle.
"I don't have time today. Itachi promised to teach me shuriken technique this afternoon."
"What? I can teach shuriken technique too—why do you need Itachi's deadpan face for lessons?" Rokuro said, and without waiting he grabbed six shuriken from his ninja pouch and hurled them.
They whirled through the air and slammed into a tree ten meters away, forming a perfect pentagram.
"Whoa—Rokuro, you're amazing! I heard the academy only requires a single eight-ring throw to pass shuriken class, but your accuracy is insane."
Rokuro pulled the shuriken from the tree and put them back in his pouch.
"For us clan kids, the academy mainly teaches bonds and the Will of Fire. The rest is fluff. I can teach you shuriken—forget Itachi's corpse-face. Come on, come home with me."
Kei was still a child at heart. Tempted by food and flattered by attention, she reluctantly followed him—leaving the Dutiful Son waiting.
At lunch, the braised beef left grease at the corners of Kei's mouth. In the afternoon Rokuro taught her throw after throw of shuriken technique; he worked that corner like a man on a mission.
When practice ended, Rokuro politely walked Kei home before leaving.
If you try, you can dig out any love interest; Rokuro certainly had motivation when it came to undermining the Dutiful Son.
After dinner Rokuro did the dishes and then pulled his mother into the living room.
"Mom, I need to tell you something important."
Ashikaga's face immediately turned serious. She sighed before Rokuro could say a word.
"I knew this day would come… did it happen?"
"Eh?" Rokuro blinked. He had no idea what his mother meant.
"Come on—since you're my son and your father's gone, your mother should be here to… okay, to punish you."
"Punish? What are you talking about?"
"What else? Did you grope Kei? How many bases did you hit? First base, second base? Don't tell me you slid home?"
Rokuro's face darkened. Ashikaga's eyes widened.
"Did you even get to home plate?!"
"Mom—can you be serious? Do you talk to your son like this? Besides, I'm five years old. Do I even have the ability to get to the plate?"
"Maybe you do. I had you when I was fifteen, and your father kissed me when he was seven. You inherited our advantaged genes—what a five-year-old might be capable of, I don't even want to imagine."
Even Rokuro, who'd been a veteran in his past life, had trouble responding to his mother's outrageous teasing.
"All right, all right—sex ed later. Mom, look at this."
Knowing he couldn't win the verbal fight, Rokuro pulled the black tube from his pocket and handed it to his mother.
Ashikaga examined the tube carefully; the longer she looked, the more serious her expression became. This time she wasn't joking.
"Rokuro, did you make this?"
Rokuro nodded slightly.
"Remember the five million I asked for? I used that to buy a piece of chakra metal and combined it with sealing techniques to make this ninja tool. The inscription is Fireball Jutsu. I tested it by the Uchiha lake this morning; with enough chakra it will cast the jutsu."
Ashikaga, a sealing specialist, recognized the sealing inscriptions etched on the tube's exterior at a glance. She had been trying to discern what the inscriptions did—then Rokuro said "Fireball Jutsu," and everything clicked.
"You constructed a jutsu with sealing formulas—and it's a C-rank fire technique. How did you think of that?"
Rokuro selectively explained his goals. When he mentioned instant-cast jutsu and chakra savings, his mother understood the value of ninja tools immediately.
"These tools are precious. If reported to the Hokage—"
Rokuro raised a hand to cut her off.
"Mom, do you forget which clan we are? If you hand this to the Hokage, in a few years the Hokage faction will be distributing tools just like this to counter the Uchiha. I'd be viewed as a traitor by my own clan and might even die by the tools I invented."
"Rokuro—why do you hate the Hokage so much?"
"I don't hate one person. The Hokage faction hates the Uchiha. I'm an Uchiha; there's no escaping that mark."
Ashikaga sighed. As an Uchiha wife and a member of the sealing division, she understood the friction between the Hokage faction and the Uchiha all too well. When she married Uchiha Taidachi, her family had even opposed the match.
"So what do you want to do?"
"Mom, I need to study more advanced sealing techniques. I need your help."
"You want me to steal an Uzumaki sealing scroll?" she asked.
Rokuro waved his hand.
"Mom, your sealing is strong, but your field combat isn't—sending you to steal is like sending a lamb into a tiger's den. We'll use another approach."
He took out paper and a brush and wrote a sealing formula on chakra paper, then handed it to Ashikaga. She furrowed her brow as she read.
"This is a storage seal—but why are nearly a third of the inscriptions missing?"
"Heh—just try it."
Ashikaga placed the teapot on the written seal and infused chakra.
Bang.
A puff of white smoke, and the teapot vanished—sealed away.
"Again."
At Rokuro's prompting she sealed a teacup, a tray, and eventually the table itself. Each time an item was sealed, one or two of the inscriptions changed color; when all inscriptions had changed color, the seal-space was full.
"The storage capacity doubled! And the inscriptions count dropped by a third—Rokuro, did you optimize it?"
Rokuro nodded slightly and handed the chakra paper with the optimized storage seal to his mother.
"Tomorrow, take this to the Hokage and say you discovered an optimization to fūinjutsu. Ask to study higher-level sealing techniques. Hiruzen may not be as sharp as he once was, but he isn't senile yet—he'll see the value and approve your request. That way I can learn advanced sealing inscriptions."
Ashikaga understood Rokuro's plan but still wanted to argue.
"Son, if you personally bring this to the Hokage, he'll favor you."
"Mom, I carry both your blood and my father's. As an Uchiha, that mark can't be erased. The Hokage faction's prejudice runs far deeper than you imagine. Trust my method."
Ashikaga resigned herself with a heavy sigh. She'd married into the Uchiha, and she knew the stakes.