As noon approached, Itachi pulled Sora’s hand and walked into the most ancient family compound, the Uchiha Clan Compound.
Sora turned his eyes, curiously looking at the various shops lining the streets.
They looked no different from a regular commercial street, except that there were slightly fewer people here.
The sight of the two walking side by side caused quite a few passing clan members to stop and stare.
Someone whispered, “Isn’t that the Clan Head’s eldest son, Itachi?
I used to see him walking around the Clan Compound often, but he’s been rare these past few years.” But compared to Itachi, what made them more curious was the red-haired child beside him—that splash of bright red hair, paired with a pair of clear amber eyes, was exceptionally eye-catching in the crowd, instantly brightening people’s eyes.
Sora paid no mind to the gazes or discussions of the ordinary people along the way.
He could sense that most of these people were merely curious about him and held no malice.
This ability had awakened suddenly a year ago.
Now, he could vaguely perceive the various emotions of living beings and even distinguish whether what they said was true or a lie.
He still remembered the scene of its first awakening clearly: that day, he was shopping with Naruto on the Konoha commercial street when countless complex and cold malicious intents suddenly flooded his mind, so sharp that it gave him a splitting headache.
Later, he managed to distinguish that most of that malice was directed at Naruto; the people who held ill will toward him were actually very few.
He vaguely remembered that the Uzumaki Clan inherently possessed quite a few special abilities.
His ability seemed very similar to the rumored ‘Kagura’s eye’ (Kagura’s Mind’s Eye).
It was a pity that he knew too little about his own clan, only vaguely knowing of Kagura’s eye and the Adamantine Sealing Chains .
Moreover, neither of these abilities could be mastered through study; they had to automatically awaken upon reaching some unknown condition, which was somewhat like a Kekkei Genkai.
But what conditions needed to be met for awakening remained a mystery to him to this day.
“Little Sora, we’re here.
This is the flatbread shop Sasuke mentioned to you.” Itachi’s voice pulled Sora back from his thoughts.
Following Itachi’s gaze, he saw a small shop ahead with a wooden sign that read ‘Teiyaki Flatbreads’.
An old man was reading a newspaper on a bamboo chair by the entrance, and next to him, an old woman was carefully wiping the glass counter with a clean cloth.
Inside the counter, one could vaguely see neatly stacked flatbreads.
“Oh!
Isn’t that Itachi!” The old woman looked up first.
Upon seeing Itachi, her previously narrowed eyes widened slightly, and a kind smile immediately bloomed on her face.
“You’ve come for flatbreads, right?
It’s been a while since you visited.
Coincidentally, the batch in my oven just finished; they’re still hot!” She then looked toward Sora, her tone softening, “Ah, my~ Who is this adorable child?” The old woman speaking was named Uchiha Jirou, and the old man beside her was named Uchiha Teiyaki.
They were a very kind elderly couple.
Although they possessed Uchiha blood, they were ordinary people.
Itachi nodded slightly, his tone carrying an apology, “I’m sorry, I’ve truly been busy with missions lately.
Thank you, Grandma Jirou, we came to buy flatbreads.” He then moved to the side and pointed at Sora, introducing him, “This child is named Uzumaki Sora.
He is Sasuke’s friend.
I brought him to the Clan Compound to hang out today.” As he spoke, he couldn’t help but raise his hand and gently stroke Sora’s red hair—the texture his fingertips touched was soft and fluffy, exactly as he had imagined.
Sora immediately raised his hand and batted away Itachi’s ‘misbehaving’ hand from his head.
He even glared up at him, his amber eyes holding a small warning.
Grandpa Sandaime had just patted his head, and now Itachi was doing it again.
Why did everyone like touching his head so much?
“Oh!
So he’s a child from the Uzumaki Clan?
I never would have thought!” Jirou laughed, patting her husband’s head beside her, signaling that they had guests.
She beckoned Sora toward her, her tone exceptionally gentle, “Little Sora, come here quickly.
Grandma will get you a freshly baked flatbread.” Seeing such an endearing child, her affection surged instantly, and even her voice softened a bit.
Sora obediently walked over, curiously staring at the flatbread Jirou was taking out of the glass counter: the round body was sprinkled with white sesame seeds and was emitting faint heat.
It smelled quite fragrant.
“A child from the Uzumaki Clan…” Teiyaki also put down the newspaper in his hand and leaned over, smiling at Sora.
“it’s been many years since I’ve heard that surname.
This child is truly handsome; he looks very likable.” Sora took a small bite of the flatbread.
The crispy outer layer mixed with the sweet filling made the texture just right.
But just then, a complex emotion suddenly pierced his perception—it was the sorrow hidden beneath Jirou and Teiyaki’s smiles, like a bit of bitterness mixed into sweet soup, making him feel somewhat uncomfortable.
Sora paused his eating.
He secretly glanced at the eyes of the elderly couple, but their eyes remained narrowed, their faces holding gentle smiles; he couldn’t detect any abnormality at all.
This pair of squinty-eyed old folks were truly extraordinarily powerful; his means of observation couldn’t find any leverage.
Swallowing the last bite of the flatbread, Sora gently placed his right hand over his chest, nodded slightly, and thanked them sincerely, “The flatbread is delicious.
I like it very much.
Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa.” After speaking, he turned and walked back to Itachi’s side, standing quietly, no longer as lively as before.
Compared to the cold malice he had perceived earlier, this sorrow hidden beneath tenderness made him feel even more distressed.
An impulse to run away even welled up in his heart.
“Little Sora, what’s wrong?” Itachi noticed the change in Sora.
The child who had been smiling moments ago had suddenly quieted down.
He looked at Sora with some curiosity.
“I’m fine,” Sora shook his head, his voice soft.
“The flatbread is delicious, and Grandpa and Grandma are very nice.” Itachi rarely saw any expression on Sora’s face—no usual liveliness, nor the joy from eating something good, only a sheet of calmness remained.
Baffled, he could only bid farewell to the elderly couple first, then took Sora’s hand again and headed in the direction of home.
After walking a few steps, Itachi saw that Sora still lacked spirit, so he suggested, “Little Sora, Sasuke’s mother cooks very well.
Why don’t I take you home to eat with us today?” He thought that perhaps if it were his mother’s cooking, it would definitely be able to make Sora happy again.
“Okay,” Sora nodded.
Hearing there was food, his eyes brightened slightly, but they quickly dimmed again—the sorrow he had perceived earlier was still lingering in his heart, and its aftereffect was stronger than he expected.
And…
he always felt that when he perceived the emotions of the two elders just now, his Kagura’s eye seemed a bit off.
That sorrow was clearly distinct, yet it was as if there was a layer of fog, making it impossible to grasp the source.
Is this ability of mine really Kagura’s eye?
Why does it feel a bit strange?
After walking for a while longer, a magnificent mansion appeared before their eyes—the vermilion gate was exceptionally heavy, and the prominent Uchiha Clan Crest was carved upon it.
After pushing open the large gate, the spacious courtyard and high eaves inside stunned Sora.
As expected of the residence of the head of the number one clan in the Ninja World, its scale was the largest he had ever seen in this world, completely exceeding his imagination.
“Is that Itachi returning?” A gentle female voice came from inside the house.
Mikoto heard the sound of the door opening and poked her head out from the inner room, looking over curiously.
But when she saw Sora beside Itachi, her eyes instantly lit up, and she quickly walked over.
“What an adorable child!” Mikoto looked at Sora, her tone full of affection, “This red hair is so beautiful, and it feels so soft to the touch.” As soon as the words fell, she quickly walked up to Sora, gently cupped his face, and rubbed it, unable to resist reaching out to touch his red hair again.
“A-Auntie?” Sora’s cheeks instantly flushed slightly, and he quickly raised his hand to gently move Mikoto’s hand away from his head.
He had been touched on the head three times today.
He was feeling a bit scalded; if she touched it again, he felt like he was going to explode.