The air changed first.
Kaen noticed it before clouds gathered — humidity rising, soil scent deepening, insects growing louder at dusk. Observation Haki helped, but even without it, the signs were obvious.
Rainy season was coming.
And their house… wouldn't survive it.
The roof already leaked. The floor warped from moisture. Worst of all, snakes and small forest creatures often slipped inside when it rained heavily. Public housing sat near an overgrown edge of the Uchiha district — neglected land no one bothered maintaining.
For most war orphans, it meant enduring.
For Kaen, it meant preparing.
He woke before dawn as usual.
Training came first.
Running barefoot through damp soil to strengthen balance. Controlled breathing to stretch Observation Haki's range. Static striking drills against a wooden post he'd planted himself.
Sometimes, during intense focus, a faint heaviness wrapped his fists — Armament Haki trying to form. Still incomplete. Still secret.
Always secret.
Once training ended, the day's second priority began:
Fixing their home.
Hitomi insisted on helping.
At first Kaen resisted. She was small, still fragile from earlier malnutrition. But her stubborn expression made arguing pointless.
"I live here too," she said simply.
Fair enough.
Together they started small.
Cleaning debris.
Removing rotten planks.
Clearing weeds and tall grass where snakes hid.
Kaen used a long stick to probe bushes first — Observation Haki confirming movement before he acted. A few small snakes appeared over several days. None dangerous, but he removed them carefully anyway.
Safety wasn't negotiable.
Hitomi handled lighter work — sweeping, organizing scraps, washing usable cloth. She hummed sometimes while working, an oddly comforting sound in an otherwise quiet life.
Money was limited.
That clan allowance barely covered food, so materials came from salvage:
Discarded boards.
Old roofing tiles.
Leftover nails from abandoned structures.
Kaen learned basic construction mostly by observation. Watching repair crews in wealthier parts of the district. Copying techniques silently.
His previous-life memories helped too — not technical knowledge exactly, but familiarity with tools, DIY concepts, problem-solving approaches.
Piece by piece, the house changed.
Roof patched.
Windows sealed better.
Drainage dug around the foundation to reduce flooding.
Nothing fancy.
But sturdy.
Safe.
The difference was obvious the first time rain tested it — fewer leaks, warmer interior, no slithering surprises at night.
Hitomi looked around proudly.
"It feels like… a real home now."
Kaen didn't answer immediately.
Because he was thinking the same thing.
Despite the improvements, he never relaxed completely.
Morning training remained strict.
Observation Haki refinement.
Armament attempts.
Endurance drills.
He also practiced emotional control — an instinctive step toward whatever dormant Conqueror's Haki inside him required. Strong will often preceded that awakening, at least according to fragments from his past-life anime knowledge.
Still speculative.
Still theoretical.
But preparation cost nothing.
The village continued its usual distant politeness toward the Uchiha. The clan continued its distant politeness toward their orphans.
Nothing changed externally.
Internally, though…
Kaen felt something stabilizing.
Not trust.
Not belonging.
But control.
He couldn't fix politics yet.
Couldn't change clan attitudes.
Couldn't rewrite village history.
But he could strengthen himself.
Protect Hitomi.
Create a small pocket of safety in an otherwise indifferent world.
And for now…
That was enough.
That evening, rain began again.
Heavy.
Persistent.
Kaen sat near the doorway watching it, much like he had months ago — except this time, water stayed outside.
Hitomi leaned lightly against his shoulder, relaxed.
Neither spoke.
They didn't need to.
Because for the first time since either could remember…
The rain didn't feel like an enemy.