Kurō smiled and handed the basket in his hand to Karin.
It was woven from thin bamboo strips, and beads of moisture from the market mist still clung to the handle.
Karin took the basket, her large dark eyes curving into crescents.
She said, “Sensei, you already restocked the house not long ago.
You really didn’t need to buy all this,” but her two small hands held the basket tightly, as if afraid someone might snatch it away.
The smile at the corners of her mouth could not be hidden at all.
Her little face was full of joy.
Kurō looked at Karin in front of him, and the smile on his lips deepened.
He reached out and rubbed the top of her head.
“Did you train properly while I was away?” Karin looked at Kurō with some helplessness and could not help complaining, “Sensei, your shadow clone has been at home supervising my training the whole time.
Why are you asking something so obvious?” Kurō coughed awkwardly, but his face quickly switched into an extremely serious expression.
He straightened his back, cleared his throat, and announced in the tone of someone delivering major news.
“Then… to celebrate the results of your training, we’re having a feast tonight!” “Yay!” Karin’s eyes instantly lit up.
Holding the basket, she jumped into the air, her red hair drawing a happy arc above her head.
“I’ll wash the vegetables!” Before her words had even finished, she had already bounded toward the kitchen like a little red rabbit.
Kurō watched Karin’s bouncing figure and could not help showing a relaxed smile.
During these four years, he had not simply stayed in Kirigakure and quietly built up his strength.
Around three years ago, Obito either began to trust him fully or had something more important to deal with.
In any case, he no longer came to check on him as often.
Those chilling sensations of being watched gradually disappeared as well.
Kurō took advantage of that hard-won freedom.
He left a shadow clone behind in Kirigakure to stand in for him, while his real body left the village and headed for Mount Sumeru to try his luck.
He wanted to see whether he could find Hiruko, who had defected from Konoha during the Third Great Ninja War.
After all, the Chimera Jutsu was indeed an extremely powerful secret art.
For Kurō at that time, who desperately wanted more strength to protect himself, it was very tempting.
However, when he arrived at Mount Shumisen and searched every peak, he found no trace of Hiruko.
After concluding that Hiruko might not yet have established his base on Mount Shumisen at this point in the timeline, Kurō could only give up for the time being, knowing Obito might return to Kirigakure at any moment.
But since he had already come all that way, leaving with nothing felt far too unsatisfying.
After thinking it over seriously, he remembered that Mount Shumisen sat near the border between the Land of Earth and the Land of Grass.
Connecting that with the current timeline, he thought of Karin and her mother, who might already be in Kusagakure at this point.
So he set out for Kusagakure.
When he arrived in Kusagakure, it happened to be just after Karin’s mother had died.
The Kusa ninjas, the people who had cruelly drained every bit of value from that mother and daughter, were preparing to turn their hands toward the little girl sobbing over her mother’s body.
Kurō killed every Kusa ninja there.
Partly because of their disgusting actions, and partly to vent the emotions he had kept buried for too long.
In the end, he saved Karin, the little girl who had been clutching her mother’s corpse and crying her heart out.
Considering Karin’s Uzumaki bloodline and her special ability, Kurō did not put her in the open for training alongside Kimimaro, Haku, Suigetsu, and the others.
Instead, he took her as his disciple and let her live in his base.
And she had been here ever since.
Kurō looked at Karin as she ran off and could not help sighing.
“Time really flies…” The little girl who had once curled up in a pool of blood, crying until her voice broke, had now grown into someone who could smile and throw herself into his arms, someone who could help him wash vegetables and cook.
Before he knew it, he had already come to see Karin as something like a younger sister.
Only in front of this child, who was still as blank and pure as a clean sheet of paper, could he put down every guard and show his truest self.
“Sensei!
Help me get the stool!
I can’t reach the cutting board!” Karin’s voice came from the kitchen, carrying a bit of urgency.
Kurō was pulled back to reality.
As he walked toward the kitchen, he said, “All right, all right.
You go play.
Leave the cooking to me.” “No!” Karin poked her head out from the kitchen doorway.
Her large eyes were wide and round, and her tone was full of stubbornness.
“I want to do it with Master!” “Good grief…” Kurō sighed helplessly, but that sigh was full of affection.
In the small kitchen, one tall figure and one small figure crowded together.
From time to time, a few bickering voices drifted out, spreading through the stone-wrapped cave along with the steam rising from the pot.
“Sensei, do I need to peel this potato?” “What do you think?” “Then I’ll peel it!” “…That’s ginger.” “Huh?” Not long after, with the teacher and disciple working together, dinner was quickly ready.
The food filled the small wooden table.
Braised fish, sautéed greens, potato and rib stew, miso soup, and the fried tofu sushi and three-colored dango Karin had been thinking about all day.
“Wow!” Karin looked at the dishes on the table, both eyes shining like stars.
Her little face was filled with amazement, and her mouth opened into a small “O.” “Sensei is amazing!” Kurō lifted his chin a little proudly, the corner of his mouth curving into a deliberately modest smile.
“Nothing special.
Just a little skill.
A little skill.” “All right, hurry and eat.
It won’t taste as good once it gets cold.” “Mm!” Karin nodded hard, then began eating in great mouthfuls as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
She picked up a piece of fish with her chopsticks and stuffed it into her mouth, her cheeks puffing up like a little hamster.
Her eyes narrowed into a line, and her face was full of satisfaction.
Watching her like that, Kurō could not help remembering the days when he, Obito, and Rin would go to Kakashi’s house to freeload meals as children.
Konoha, Kakashi’s living room.
He and Obito sat at the dining table, plates piled high with the food Kakashi had made.
Obito was wolfing everything down, his mouth stuffed full.
Kurō himself was not much better, his chopsticks moving at lightning speed.
Kakashi sat across from them, staring at them with a dark expression.
On that usually cool face of his, a rare trace of helplessness appeared.
Rin stood quietly at the side, covering her mouth as she watched them and secretly laughed.
Those days would never come back again.
“Sensei, you should eat too!” Karin’s voice pulled him out of his memories.
Kurō smiled.
There was a trace of bitterness in that smile so faint it was almost impossible to notice.
“Okay.” He picked up his chopsticks and ate with her.
But his chopsticks moved very little.
He only occasionally picked up a few greens, placed them in his mouth, and chewed slowly.
Most of the time, he simply watched Karin eat.
He watched her satisfied expression and those eyes shining under the lamplight.
After dinner, the two sat in the living room and chatted for a while.
As they talked, Kurō saw that it was getting late, so he stood up and patted Karin’s head.
“All right.
Time for bed.
Go back to your room.” Karin stood up reluctantly, hugged a cushion to her chest, and walked toward her room.
When she reached the door, she stopped again and turned around, her large eyes looking at Kurō.
“Sensei, tell me more of the story you didn’t finish before… the ones about your time in Konoha.” Her voice carried a bit of spoiled pleading and a bit of expectation.
Kurō walked up to her, raised two fingers, and gently tapped her forehead.
“It’s too late today.
I’ll tell you next time when we get the chance.
For now, be good and go to sleep.” Karin nodded with some regret.
A trace of disappointment flashed through her large eyes, but it was quickly replaced by understanding.
“Okay…” She opened the bedroom door, climbed into bed, and pulled the blanket over herself, leaving only her eyes visible outside.
“Good night, Sensei.” “Good night.” Kurō replied softly.
After watching Karin close her eyes, he turned and left her room.
The door closed gently behind him with a quiet click.
In the darkness, Karin opened her eyes.
She stared up at the ceiling.
In those large dark eyes, the innocence and cheer from earlier were gone.
In their place was a quiet worry that did not match her age.
She turned over, pulled the blanket up to her chin, and murmured softly, “Sensei seemed… kind of upset today.
He barely ate anything.” She paused, a thoughtful look passing through her eyes.
“What… happened?” Karin silently worried about her teacher in her heart, then slowly closed her eyes.
… After closing the door, the smile on Kurō’s face gradually faded.
His expression became extremely calm, so calm that it bordered on cold.
It was the restraint of someone pulling inward, pressing every emotion deep into his heart.
Without a word, he walked toward the end of the corridor.
There was a hidden door there, disguised as an ordinary rock wall.
He reached out and pressed his hand against the stone.
Chakra surged faintly.
The formula carved into the wall activated, and the symbols etched into the stone lit up with a faint blue glow.
A moment later, the hidden door slid open without a sound.
Kurō walked inside.
It was an underground chamber.
Wooden shelves were set into all four walls, filled with scrolls and all kinds of ninja tools.
Every single item here would be considered extremely rare in the ninja world.
But he ignored them all.
He walked slowly through the chamber until he reached the deepest corner.
There, a small grave marker stood.
It was only an ordinary stone, roughly polished and placed in the corner.
In front of the stone was a small incense burner, with traces of ash still left inside.
Several words were carved onto the marker.
The handwriting was not neat.
It looked as if the person who carved it had been trembling, or as if their emotions had not been steady at the time.
Uchiha… Shisui.