Fugaku Uchiha stared silently at the boy kneeling before him.
He wasn't trying to intimidate Obito, nor was he trying to read his thoughts. In truth, his own mind was a complete blank.
What on earth is going on? This scene never happened in the original story!
But when he thought about it, it made sense. In the original timeline, Obito was just an average Uchiha, raised by his grandmother, never showing much talent or receiving much attention.
Now that he had suddenly been guided personally by the clan head himself, it was only natural that he would seize any chance to grow stronger.
Still, the butterfly effect was moving way faster than Fugaku expected.
He cleared his throat and asked, "Aren't you Minato's student? Why not ask him to teach you?"
Obito shook his head quickly. "Teacher Minato is very strong, but he isn't a bloodline user. When it comes to training my Sharingan, he can't help me much."
He looked up, eyes shining with determination. "That's why, I want to become your disciple, Clan Head!"
"Disciple, huh…"
Fugaku murmured softly. In this world, the term "disciple" carried far more weight than "student."
A teacher like Minato was more like a team captain—someone who led missions, gave basic guidance, and ensured his students survived. But a master-disciple relationship was different. It meant inheritance, passing on personal ninjutsu, secrets, and even philosophy.
It was the kind of bond shared by Jiraiya and Naruto, or Tsunade and Sakura, or even Orochimaru and Sasuke. In Fugaku's past life, this was akin to being adopted as family, a bond so deep that disciples were often closer than blood.
The difference was clear.
And truth be told, Obito's potential was immense. He was one of the few in the clan with the talent to awaken the Mangekyō Sharingan. Taking him as a disciple wouldn't be a loss—it could even be a great advantage. But Fugaku couldn't ignore one chilling thought.
What if Obito still ended up falling into Madara's hands? What if he was twisted by that insane "Eye of the Moon" plan?
Wouldn't that mean Fugaku was training the very man who would one day massacre his clan?
He winced internally. In the future, this kid will personally contribute to the Uchiha's downfall. And judging by how many eyes Sasuke later collected… yeah, Obito worked hard on that one.
No, he couldn't risk it. Better to reject him politely.
"Does Minato know about this?" Fugaku asked.
Obito nodded. "He does."
Fugaku leaned back. "Your potential is remarkable. Awakening a double tomoe on your first try is extremely rare. You have the qualifications to become my disciple." His tone turned official, the way a leader might speak on television.
Obito's face lit up. "Really?! That's—"
"But," Fugaku interrupted, voice tinged with regret, "as the clan head, I cannot show favoritism. If I take you as a disciple, others will come asking the same. We're all of the same bloodline. I cannot start something that divides the clan."
Obito's shoulders slumped. He lowered his head, disappointment shadowing his young face. Deep down, he knew Fugaku was right. There were many in the Uchiha far more gifted than him. Why should he be chosen?
Even so, the rejection stung. He had worked up so much courage just to come here, and though he expected this outcome, it didn't make it any easier to swallow.
He clenched his fists, trying to hold back tears. "Thank you for your time, Clan Head," he said quietly, bowing before turning to leave.
Fugaku watched him go. Just as Obito's hand touched the door, he spoke again.
"Obito, if you have free time, come by my house."
"Eh?" Obito froze.
"Don't overthink it," Fugaku added calmly. "The house is large, and my wife has a hard time keeping it clean. So if you have time, come help tidy up my study."
"Your… study?"
For a second, Obito looked confused. Then realization dawned. His face brightened with understanding, and he bowed deeply, smiling so wide his eyes nearly disappeared. "Yes, sir! I'll come by whenever you need me!"
He turned and ran out the door, his steps light and cheerful.
Fugaku chuckled quietly. "He's a good kid."
From the doorway, Mikoto entered, holding baby Itachi in her arms. "You're very wary of that boy, but you still seem to have expectations for him."
Fugaku shrugged. "Wary? Maybe. But I told him to come to my study. That's where I keep many of my scrolls."
"That's exactly my point," Mikoto said, smiling. "You're cautious, but you still can't help hoping he'll prove himself."
Fugaku gave a helpless laugh. "You've seen right through me."
He looked down at the child in her arms. Little Itachi was sleeping soundly, lips twitching softly as he dreamed.
"Is he asleep?" Fugaku asked.
"Yes," Mikoto said gently. "He played with that spinning top you bought him for a long time. He loves it."
Fugaku felt his chest tighten as if struck by an invisible force. The warmth radiating from Mikoto's motherly smile was too much to bear. His heart thumped uncontrollably.
"Say, Mikoto… since Itachi is already asleep, don't you think we should, um… rest too?"
She blinked. "You think you're a child again? It's the middle of the day!"
She trailed off as she met her husband's gaze—his eyes burning with that familiar, unmistakable look.
Years of marriage told her exactly what it meant.
"Really… in broad daylight?" she whispered, her cheeks flushing red.
Fugaku didn't answer. He only smiled, eyes gleaming with mischief.
Mikoto finally sighed, face as red as her hair, and hurried off with the baby in her arms.
Fugaku's grin widened as he followed right behind her.
Another beautiful day had just begun.
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