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The Uchiha compound.The Akira household.
When Akira stepped through the door, Fugaku's face was still dark.
But he couldn't be sure whether the person standing in front of him was the real Akira, or the impostor who had publicly cursed him out at the clan meeting. After a moment's hesitation, he asked in a low voice,
"Are you really Akira?"
Akira shot him a glance and replied casually, "What kind of question is that? Of course I am. One hundred percent authentic."
Fugaku froze.
That tone alone confirmed it. Definitely not his son.
"What exactly are you after?" Fugaku demanded.
His eyes were locked on Akira, chakra quietly surging as he prepared to strike at any moment.
"Oh? No particular goal," Akira said, shrugging with obvious indifference.
Fugaku clenched his teeth. "Even if you're strong, and I might not be your match, I'm not someone you can toy with. Don't push me to the point where we both go down together!"
"Tch. You?" Akira flicked at some imaginary dust on his fingers, his face full of disdain. "You're not even worth it."
"You bastard! Do you really think I'm made of clay?!"
Fugaku's Mangekyō Sharingan flared open in an instant. The air between them turned razor-sharp, like a fight could erupt in the next heartbeat.
Then a gentle voice cut through the tension.
"What are you two doing standing out here?" Mikoto called. "Since you're both home, come inside. Can't whatever you need to say wait until you're in the house?"
She stepped out, looking between them in confusion.
An apron was tied around her waist, and she was still holding a spatula. She'd clearly been in the middle of cooking.
"What's going on with you two?"
"It's nothing, Mom," Akira said with a shrug. "I just think some people are way too good at flattering themselves."
He brushed past Fugaku, changed his shoes like it was second nature, and headed inside.
Mikoto turned to Fugaku's back and asked softly, "Don't you think Akira's acting strange today?"
Strange? He's not even the same person.
Fugaku thought that to himself. He deactivated his Mangekyō and avoided answering directly, only saying in a deep voice,
"Something's not right here. Don't worry about it. I'll handle it."
Dinner time.
At the table, Fugaku kept a stiff expression, his gaze fixed on Akira across from him, who was stuffing his face without a care in the world.
What is this guy really here for?
A powerhouse who likely possessed the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan, impersonating his son and openly sitting down to eat with him at the same table.
Fugaku's thoughts were a tangled mess. He couldn't make sense of the intruder's intentions at all.
If he weren't certain he couldn't win, he would've already seized this man, tortured him, and forced the truth out of him.
"Why aren't you eating, dear?" Mikoto asked, noticing his odd behavior. "Is the food not to your taste today? Or are you under too much pressure lately?"
Fugaku nodded slightly without replying, then picked up his chopsticks and began to eat.
Akira, on the other hand, didn't care what was going on in Fugaku's head. Right now, there was only food in his eyes. Clearing the table was his sole mission.
He had to admit, Mikoto's cooking was incredible. Her skills were easily on par with a five-star chef from his previous life.
With a mother this gentle, this capable, this warm…
And in the original story, Itachi still brought himself to do it.
That really was inhuman.
For the sake of this delicious food alone, Akira absolutely wouldn't allow the tragedy of the original timeline to happen again. This was the pure, simple resolve of a man from the Great Empire of Food.
Fugaku put down his chopsticks after only a few bites.
Eating at the same table as someone this dangerous completely killed his appetite.
"What's really going on, dear?" Mikoto asked again. "You're acting strange today too."
Fugaku shook his head. "It's nothing."
After brushing it off, he turned to Akira. "When you're done eating, come to my study. There's something extremely important I need to discuss with you."
With that, he stood up, left his chopsticks behind, and headed toward the study.
Akira listened, then shoveled the rest of his food into his mouth in one go. He set his bowl down and said flatly,
"You come to my room instead. I also have something extremely important to discuss with you."
Then he stood and walked toward his bedroom.
Fugaku stiffened.
He'd almost forgotten. This wasn't his second son, Uchiha Akira. This was an impostor, someone who had no reason to give him any respect at all.
Mikoto spoke up instead. "Akira, how can you talk to your father like that?"
Akira turned his head, glanced at Fugaku, and curled his lips into a sneer.
"He doesn't deserve it."
The door slammed shut with a loud bang.
"Honestly… what's gotten into that child today?" Mikoto sighed, setting her chopsticks down and standing up. She was about to head to Akira's room to properly lecture him.
Fugaku raised a hand to stop her.
"No need. I'll talk to him myself."
With a grim face, he walked into Akira's room.
Inside, Akira had already cleared out an open space. A low tea table sat neatly in the center.
He'd even gone out of his way to find it. Conversations flowed better with the right atmosphere, after all.
Akira was seated on one side of the table. When he saw Fugaku enter, he pointed to the empty seat across from him and said casually,
"Come on, sit. Don't be shy. Make yourself at home."
Fugaku took a deep breath, forcing down the anger boiling inside him.
Don't act rashly. Don't act rashly. You're not his opponent.
After about a minute, he finally managed to calm himself enough that he didn't feel the urge to lash out.
Akira raised an eyebrow, amused. Not bad. He can really endure. No wonder Fugaku supposedly earned the nickname 'Ninja Turtle' in his past life.
Fugaku sat down across from him and launched straight into a barrage of questions.
"Who are you, really? Why are you impersonating my son? Where is Uchiha Akira now?
"What's your objective? What was going on with that eye of yours earlier? Is my son alive or dead? Are you—"
"Stop, stop, stop," Akira cut in quickly. "That's way too many questions. One at a time."
Fugaku frowned but said nothing, waiting for an explanation.
"First question," Akira said. "Who am I? That's not important."
"It is important," Fugaku interrupted immediately.
"It's not," Akira replied.
"It is."
"It's not."
"It is!"
"It's not!"
"..."
In the end, Fugaku was the one who broke the bizarre stalemate.
After all, he was the anxious one here.
Akira wasn't in any hurry at all.
"..."
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