The walk home was quieter than the one to the Academy.
Obito walked beside Grandma with his hands in his pockets, his head lowered.
He wasn’t crying anymore, but the excitement he’d carried for weeks had disappeared.
Every now and then, he’d glance at another family laughing together before looking back at the ground.
Shizuku noticed.
She didn’t know what to say.
Even if she had, she wasn’t sure it would help.
When they reached the house, Grandma unlocked the front door and stepped inside.
“I’ll start dinner.” Neither child answered.
Obito quietly went to his room while Shizuku sat in the living room, absentmindedly looking at the two training swords their father had carved years ago.
They still leaned against the wall where he’d left them.
A knock at the door broke the silence.
Grandma wiped her hands on her apron before answering it.
Standing outside were three members of the Uchiha Clan.
The man in front was instantly recognizable.
Fugaku Uchiha.
Beside him stood the two Uchiha shinobi who had delivered the news of their parents’ deaths the previous morning.
“Clan Head Fugaku,” Grandma said, bowing respectfully.
“My apologies for visiting without notice,” Fugaku replied.
“May we come in?” “Of course.” The three stepped inside.
Obito emerged from his room a moment later, surprised to see them.
Fugaku looked at the siblings for a few moments before speaking.
“First, I want to offer my condolences.
Your parents served the clan and the village faithfully.
Neither child responded immediately.
Eventually, Obito bowed his head.
“Thank you.” Shizuku did the same.
Fugaku turned toward Grandma.
“I also came because I wanted to discuss the funeral.” Grandma’s expression became solemn.
“The clan is prepared to cover the expenses.” Before she could answer, a memory surfaced in Shizuku’s mind.
Her father laughed as he packed his equipment for a mission.
“You know how expensive funerals are?” Her mother rolled her eyes.
“That’s what you’re worried about?” “I’m serious.” He looked toward his children.
“If anything ever happens to us, don’t waste your money.” Her mother smiled gently.
“We’re shinobi.
If we die, we’d rather that money went toward raising you two.
Buy food.
Buy clothes.
Don’t spend it on us.” The memory faded.
Shizuku looked toward Grandma.
For a brief moment, she considered mentioning it.
Instead, she stayed silent.
This wasn’t her decision to make.
Grandma folded her hands together.
“They told me something years ago.” A faint smile crossed her face before disappearing.
“They never wanted an expensive funeral.” Fugaku gave a slow nod.
“I understand.
Even so, if you change your mind, the offer stands.” “I appreciate that.” Silence settled over the room for a few moments.
Finally, Fugaku looked toward the children.
“You both performed well today.” Obito looked surprised.
“You were watching?” “I was.
The Academy reports promising students to the major clans every year.” He glanced toward Shizuku.
“Yesterday’s…
circumstances made me more interested than usual.” Shizuku understood what he meant.
The Sharingan.
Fugaku continued.
“Your written examinations were excellent.
Your physical foundations are solid.
And your chakra reserves are exceptional for your age.” Obito looked down.
“Our parents trained us.” “They would have been proud of today’s results.” Fugaku said with a voice slighty softer than before Obito bit the inside of his cheek.
“…I hope so.” Fugaku didn’t continue the subject.
Instead, he reached into his robe and placed two small scrolls on the table.
“They’re introductory Fire Release manuals from the clan archives.” Grandma looked surprised.
“So early?” “Normally, children receive them after spending some time in the Academy,” Fugaku admitted.
“However, their parents are no longer here to continue their training.” He pushed the scrolls toward the siblings.
“These contain no forbidden techniques.
They’re meant to build upon the Fireball Technique.” Shizuku carefully picked one up.
The paper was old but well maintained.
Obito did the same.
“I don’t expect either of you to master everything immediately,” Fugaku continued.
“A shinobi who understands a handful of techniques thoroughly is more valuable than one who knows dozens and performs none of them well.” “We understand,” Shizuku replied.
Fugaku nodded once.
“You’ll receive your class assignments within the next few days.
If your family requires assistance before then, inform the clan.” After exchanging a few final words with Grandma, the visitors left.
Dinner passed quietly.
Grandma tried her best to keep a conversation going, but it never lasted long.
That night, after the house had fallen asleep, Shizuku quietly slipped into the backyard.
She looked toward the house.
No lights.
No movement.
Satisfied, she reached inward.
Blinky appeared in a swirl of dark mist before settling onto the grass with a soft thump.
It was exactly as it had been the night before.
Shizuku picked up a loose stone and held it toward the vacuum’s nozzle.
“Suck it up.” The stone disappeared instantly.
A low humming sound accompanied it.
She immediately dismissed Blinky.
The humming stopped.
A minute passed.
No one came outside.
She exhaled before summoning it again.
The stone was completely fine.
“So the storage works.” She repeated the process with a fallen branch, then a handful of leaves, retrieving each one afterward.
Everything worked exactly as expected.
Then another thought crossed her mind.
“What about chakra?” She hesitated.
If Blinky could absorb physical objects…
could it absorb energy?
She rested one hand on the vacuum.
“Try absorbing my chakra.” Nothing happened.
Then…
a faint pulling sensation spread through her arm.
It was gentle.
Almost impossible to notice.
She focused.
The feeling became clearer.
Her chakra was slowly flowing into Blinky.
Not much.
Barely a trickle.
After a few seconds, she pulled her hand away.
She immediately checked herself.
Her reserves felt slightly lower, but otherwise she was completely fine.
She reached toward Blinky again.
The chakra was still there.
Stored.
Not dispersed.
A smile slowly formed.
“So it really can…” She sat down in the grass, thinking through the possibilities.
The transfer was far too slow to matter in a fight.
She couldn’t drain an enemy while exchanging blows.
But outside of combat…
if she spent a little time every day storing excess chakra, Blinky could become an emergency reserve.
Whether she could retrieve that chakra later was another question entirely.
That would have to wait until another night.
One experiment at a time.
She dismissed Blinky once more.
As the mist faded, she looked back toward the dark house.
“No one can know yet.” With that thought, Shizuku quietly returned inside, closing the door behind her without making a sound.