The most luxurious restaurant in Gangmen Town was a Western-style establishment. Uchiha Gen, dressed in fine robes like a noble's son, entered with calm confidence and was welcomed warmly by the staff.
He chose a private room on the second floor, its windows opening onto the bustling street below.
Leisurely, he cut into a steak, sipping red wine between bites, while his Sharingan-trained eyes occasionally wandered to the people outside. For once, it felt like a rare, quiet afternoon.
Truthfully, Western food wasn't to his taste. He could enjoy it on occasion, but it was too bland for him to eat regularly.
Ten minutes later, as Gen slid another piece of beef onto his tongue, his gaze froze on a particular group walking past.
Five figures. Three men, one woman, and a small child.
The three men wore Kusagakure headbands. Their clothing and manner left no doubt, they were Grass-nin escorts.
The woman, in contrast, looked weary and out of place. She wore coarse, dirt-stained brown garments. Her features were fine, her skin pale despite hardship, her short hair a vivid red.
In her arms, she carried a little girl, no more than two years old, with the same bright red hair.
Red hair… a mark of the Uzumaki.
Though not every redhead in the shinobi world came from Uzushiogakure, the odds were undeniable. Gen's mind clicked the pieces into place. A mother and child in Kusagakure… the girl's age matched almost perfectly.
Karin. Karin Uzumaki.
Born the same year as Naruto, only a few months older. That made her about two years old now.
Her abilities and her mother's were unlike most of their clan. Even Kushina, pure-blooded as she was, didn't possess them.
Kusagakure had no right to hold such bloodline gifts.
And their fate, if left untouched, would be miserable.
Gen's hand tightened on the fork. He didn't hesitate. If he had the power to change this, then he would.
Without wasting another second, he stuffed the rest of his steak into his mouth, cleaned off the remaining dishes with efficient speed, and drained his glass of wine. Leaving a generous payment, he slipped from the room and tailed them.
By then, the group had vanished from sight but it didn't matter. He had already marked their soul signatures. Unless they stepped into another dimension, they could run to the edge of the world and still not escape his perception.
After weaving through two more streets, Gen spotted them again.
They stood before a small dango shop. The woman's eyes pleaded with her escorts.
The child stared at the skewers, three-colored dumplings, red bean, plain, and green bean, her little mouth watering. But instead of crying or demanding, she simply sucked her fingers quietly.
The leading Kusagakure shinobi sighed with irritation, muttered something under his breath, and tossed a few coins down. He bought two skewers.
The girl's face lit up as she held one, the mother the other. They both nibbled eagerly.
Then, halfway through her bite, the girl stopped. Her small hand lifted the skewer to her mother's lips.
The woman's throat worked, clearly hungry, but she shook her head and forced a smile. Gen's Sharingan traced her lips easily: "Mama isn't hungry."
But the girl refused to withdraw. Stubborn, insistent, she pushed it closer. Finally, the woman gave in and took a bite.
After that, the girl happily devoured the last dumpling, then immediately held out the second skewer to share again.
So it went, one for you, one for me, until the sticks were empty, and both mother and daughter wore the brightest smiles Gen had ever seen.
Their laughter, however, drew an angry glare from the Grass-nin leader. The woman and child fell silent at once, heads bowed, smiles fading into uneasy obedience.
Gen's chest tightened.
Two skewers. Barely a snack. Nowhere near enough to fill them. And yet they looked as if they'd been given a feast.
He could already guess her story. Once, perhaps, just an ordinary Uzumaki with no awakened gifts. But after Uzushiogakure's fall, trauma and desperation had forced her latent abilities awake.
Not every member of a bloodline clan manifested its power. Without training, without ninjutsu, without even the simplest sealing techniques, she had been reduced to a tool; a living blood bag.
His jaw clenched. Kusagakure was unworthy.
He followed them further, waiting until they left the town behind and the road grew quiet.
Finally, the Grass-nin leader turned. His eyes narrowed. "Why are you following us?"
Gen hadn't bothered to conceal himself. His noble attire made him look more like a wealthy young master than a shinobi. That alone kept the Kusagakure polite. Offending a noble could mean disaster.
"I want them."
Gen's voice was cold as he pointed at the mother and child.
The woman's face went pale, her eyes wide with fear. Nobles with money and power rarely held good intentions. In this world, with shinobi serving as their blades, cruelty was far more common than kindness.
If she had to choose, she would rather return to Kusagakure as their prisoner than fall into the hands of some perverse noble.
The Grass-nin leader stiffened. He knew exactly how valuable she was. Bringing her back to the village meant status, power, and guaranteed advancement. "Sorry," he said at once, "they are not for sale."
Relief washed over the woman's face. For a moment, she even seemed grateful.
Gen tilted his head. "Not selling? Even if I pay you enough to abandon the life of a wandering shinobi? Enough gold for you to live out your days in wealth, never touching a kunai again?"
The words made the leader falter. His eyes flickered with hesitation.
The two subordinates were less disciplined. Greed lit their faces as they started whispering persuasions.
The woman's expression darkened again, her grip on Karin tightening.
Gen sighed inwardly. Enough games.
With a single seal, poof—white smoke dispersed. The disguise fell away. The Konoha forehead protector gleamed on his brow. Scarlet three-tomoe Sharingan whirled in his eyes.
"Now—scram."
The Kusagakure trio froze, then gasped as recognition hit them.
Uchiha Gen. Vice Commander of Konoha's forces in the Land of Grass. The 'Fear Shura.'
Every shinobi in this war knew his name.
Without another word, the three Grass-nin spun and bolted into the distance.
Gen let them go. Partly because the leader had bought dango for the girl. Mostly because he refused to stain his hands in front of a child.
When silence settled, he softened his features, letting the Sharingan fade. A warm smile touched his lips.
"Hello," he said gently. "My name is Uchiha Gen, from Konohagakure, the ally of Uzushiogakure. Are you… of the Uzumaki Clan?"
The woman blinked in disbelief. She had heard the stories, back when her homeland still stood. Konoha, their strongest ally. The Uchiha, famed warriors whose power rivaled even her own clan's sealing arts.
Tears welled at the corners of her eyes. Bowing low with Karin in her arms, she whispered, "Lord Gen… yes. We are Uzumaki."
"My name is Anna Uzumaki. And this… is my daughter, Karin."