Chapter 8: Can I Entrust Her to You?
The setting sun's glow filtered through the paper windows, casting warm halos in the entryway.
As Sasuko slid down from Yu's back, she didn't forget to secretly smooth out her kimono hem that had gotten wrinkled from being carried. If Mother saw her in this state, she'd certainly get a lecture.
The moment they pushed open the door, warm yellow light poured out like water. Surprisingly, Fugaku—rarely seen at home—sat properly at the tea table, steam from his teacup blurring his stern features.
"Fa... Father..." Sasuko instinctively shrank behind Yu, her small hands gripping his sleeve tightly. As the youngest child in the family, she'd always held some fear for this naturally imposing father.
Fugaku's gaze lingered on them both for a moment before speaking with a hint of reproach: "Yu, you spoil her too much."
Sasuko's fingertips trembled slightly.
"It was my idea to take her out," Yu calmly shifted half a step to shield Sasuko behind him. "With the martial law recently, Sasuko has been cooped up at home too long."
Just then, the kitchen sliding door opened gently as Mikoto emerged carrying miso soup, moisture still clinging to her hair tips: "Why are you all standing around? Come eat." She beckoned to the two children, then spoke gently to her husband: "It's rare for the whole family to eat together. Don't scold the children."
Dinner proceeded in a somewhat oppressive atmosphere.
Sasuko kept her head down throughout, eating twice as fast as usual. With still half her rice remaining, she hurriedly stood up: "I'm finished!" The moment she spoke, she quickly scurried back to her room with lowered head.
"That child..." Mikoto frowned slightly at the leftover food. "Why did she eat so little today?"
Yu was busy attacking his third bowl of rice. After days of surviving on soldier pills, the hot meal seemed especially delicious.
As he picked up a piece of grilled fish, he suddenly noticed Fugaku's gaze had been fixed on him.
"Come to the back garden when you're done eating." Fugaku set down his teacup, the wooden floor creaking softly.
Mikoto looked worriedly at her husband's departing figure, then added a piece of thick egg roll to Yu's bowl: "Eat more. Look how thin you've gotten."
Yu smiled slightly at Mikoto and quickened his eating pace.
The large amount of food was rapidly absorbed by his Magnetic Field-enhanced stomach, converting to nutrients that replenished his somewhat depleted body after brutal training. Yu's entire form radiated slight warmth.
Under his whirlwind consumption, the table's dishes were quickly emptied.
"I'll make some more," seeing Yu eat so heartily, Mikoto worried there wasn't enough food and stood to prepare more.
"Mother, I'm already full." Yu finished the miso soup and set down his chopsticks. "Father has something to discuss with me, so I'll head over now."
After bowing slightly to Mikoto, Yu walked toward the back garden.
A cool breeze stirred, creating ripples on the small pond.
Fugaku stood with his hands behind his back at the water's edge, lost in thought.
Tap, tap—
The sound of wooden sandals on stone approached from afar.
Fugaku: "Finished eating?"
"...Yes."
Yu found it strange, his steps pausing slightly. When had this usually stern adoptive father ever concerned himself with such trivial matters?
Fugaku turned around, maintaining his usual serious expression but unable to hide his fatigue. "Has your training shown progress these past few days?" His clan leader's haori fluttered in the night wind. "Show me."
"Pardon the offense."
Before he finished speaking, the youth's figure had already vanished like smoke. The next instant, an elbow strike carried fierce wind straight toward Fugaku's back.
"Too slow."
A broad palm precisely intercepted the elbow strike, the recoil force allowing Yu to leap backward. His shoe soles scraped two shallow marks in the gravel as he landed.
Yu charged again, his speed surging thirty percent as his fist aimed straight for Fugaku's face.
"Now that's more like it." Fugaku tilted his head to dodge, but saw the youth change tactics like lightning, his other fist already striking toward his waist.
Fugaku raised his hand to block. "Too committed," his other hand counter-grabbed.
Yu sensed danger and retreated quickly.
Fugaku seized the opportunity to press forward, using his palm like a blade to chop toward Yu's neck.
Yu's pupils contracted slightly as his left arm bent to block the strike while his right leg simultaneously whipped across...
After dozens of exchanges, Fugaku stood in place with somewhat unsteady breathing, looking at Yu who still seemed completely unaffected.
He sighed at truly growing old, and that this kid's strength was genuinely impressive.
Even now his wrists were still slightly numb. Yu's attacks were both fast and fierce, yet he could control the situation at all times—something many taijutsu specialists couldn't achieve. But there was one thing he didn't do as well as other ninja.
"That's enough, Yu." Fugaku called a halt. "Your taijutsu has progressed rapidly, but there's one problem."
"Please instruct me, Father." Yu clasped his hands respectfully.
"You lack killing intent," Fugaku said slowly.
Killing intent? Weren't we just sparring?
Seeing Yu's confusion, Fugaku explained:
"The killing intent I speak of doesn't mean life-or-death dueling. Rather, you lack that forward momentum, that ruthless edge. Your fighting style leans defensive—you don't seize initiative, only wait for enemies to show openings."
"Against opponents weaker than you, this is naturally fine since you control the situation. But," Fugaku paused before continuing, "if you face equal or superior opponents, constantly evading will only put you at a disadvantage."
"I understand." Yu humbly accepted the lesson.
From his previous life, he'd always been a law-abiding citizen. Even in the most difficult times, he'd never considered stealing or robbing, and after awakening his Magnetic Field powers only marveled at how much easier work became. He'd never fought with anyone—where would such killing intent come from?
"The Uchiha may go to war with Konoha," Fugaku suddenly said.
So soon?
Yu's head snapped up.
From when he'd left home to train and returned, only a few days had passed, yet the situation had deteriorated to this extent.
"What about Itachi? Which side will he choose?" Yu asked.
Fugaku sighed, his entire being seeming to wilt further.
"I... don't know."
"Could we simply separate from Konoha and establish ourselves independently?" Yu thought that since Konoha couldn't tolerate the Uchiha anyway, they might as well pack up and leave.
"The clan members won't agree." Fugaku had also considered simply withdrawing from Konoha, but the Uchiha wasn't his autocracy. Though he was clan head, the elders' opinions couldn't be ignored.
Over these years, the Uchiha had faced constant suppression, accumulating deep resentment. Given the clan's proud nature, rather than flee with their tails between their legs, they'd prefer to fight—just like their ancestors who battled the Senju to the end.
"So what do you want to do, Father?" Yu asked.
"I want to try mediating between Konoha and the clan once more." Fugaku looked up at the distant flickering lights. "To see if there's still hope for reconciliation. After all, peace doesn't come easily."
"If battle becomes unavoidable, I hope you can protect Sasuko." Fugaku turned toward Yu earnestly.
"This is also my personal selfishness. Can I entrust Sasuko to you, Yu?"