The path from the Shinobi Academy to the Yun family home wasn't long, and before they knew it, Yun Kong and his two friends found themselves at the front gate. Yun Kong's mother was already at the door, awaiting their return. While she was surprised to see Obito, she welcomed him with such warmth that he truly felt the meaning of "a guest feels at home."
The meal unfolded over two hours, with conversation flowing as they ate. When it was time for Obito to leave, Yun Kong's mother quickly pulled out a small package, handing it to Yun Kong to pass along.
"These are some snacks—rice balls, dumplings, and pickled vegetables. Let Obito take them back for his grandmother to try. And if you can, please pass along our regards and let her know we'd love to visit sometime."
As they stood outside, Yun Kong handed Obito the package and relayed the invitation, expressing his mother's wish to meet his grandmother someday. Obito was thrilled, and before Yun Kong could react, Obito was pulling him by the arm, eager to introduce his first friend to his grandmother.
Their visit was lively but unplanned. Yun Kong hadn't expected to stay for dinner, but Obito's grandmother insisted. So by the time he returned home, the sky had long turned dark. The two agreed to meet at the academy the next day, and Yun Kong hurried back.
"I'm home!" Yun Kong called as he opened the door. After six years, he had grown accustomed to this habit.
"Welcome back," his mother replied, stepping out from the kitchen to greet him.
Dinner was already set out. Yun Kong's father sat at the table with a cup of sake, his expression stern as he waited for Yun Kong's return.
"How did it go?" Yun Kong's mother was the first to speak when he sat down.
"How did what go?" Yun Kong replied, confused. The atmosphere tonight felt unusually tense.
"About Obito and his family, of course!" his mother replied with a gentle smile as she served him a bowl of rice.
"Well, it's just him and his grandmother. They seem to get by, but they're certainly not well-off." Yun Kong, who was already hungry, began devouring his food. He hadn't eaten much at Obito's, so now he was starving.
"And this is how the Uchiha treat the families of fallen shinobi?" Yun Kong's father said angrily, his face a mix of frustration and disappointment.
But Yun Kong was too engrossed in his food to notice his father's expression.
"When you spend time with Obito, try to help him where you can," his mother said gently from beside him.
"Mm, I got it!" Yun Kong replied absentmindedly, his attention still on his meal.
"By the way, Mom, I asked Obito about his training. It turns out many Uchiha kids start shinobi training as early as three. But you told me the best age for shinobi training is six. Obito can already perform the Fireball Jutsu—even if he's just producing sparks right now. At least he has the technique down; it's still an A-rank jutsu, after all."
"Are you blaming your mother now?" She smiled as she took his empty rice bowl and filled it up again. "That's what the books say—starting at six is best, or so they claim."
"Oh." Yun Kong accepted the fresh bowl of rice with a shrug. His mother was a nurse, or more accurately, something between a nurse and a doctor. And his father, ever cautious, had often prescribed him medicinal herbs. Besides, families like the Uchiha must have their own methods—or medicines—to offset the risks of early training.
Dinner wrapped up in less than half an hour. Yun Kong noticed that his father's sake cup was still full, an unusual sight.
"Yun Kong, come with me," his father said, standing up and leading him toward a room beside the dining area.
The first floor of their home housed a small shop where his father sold kunai, shuriken, and other shinobi tools, as well as common medicinal herbs for injuries. The second floor was the family's living space, with the main living room, kitchen, and his parents' bedroom. Yun Kong's original room was here too, though he'd moved up to the third floor because he found the room too small. His mother had since turned his old room into a closet.
The third floor had Yun Kong's bedroom, a storage room, and a play area for his various toys. A small courtyard behind the building was also theirs—a modest, comfortable home.
Wow, Yun Kong thought. My family's actually doing pretty well. When he first arrived in this world, this realization had been a small comfort. If it weren't for this unforgiving shinobi world, he might have lived a carefree life here.
Yun Kong followed his father up to the third floor, through hallway after hallway, surprised by how many rooms there were. Finally, they reached a door at the far end. His father pulled out a key, unlocked it, and pushed open the door. The lock was old and covered in dust, and it opened with a creak.
"Come in," his father said quietly, stepping inside.
This room, unlike the others, wasn't cluttered. Everything was arranged neatly, though a thick layer of dust coated each surface.
Yun Kong's father moved to a seat and brushed off the dust, sitting down formally.
Seeing his father's serious expression, Yun Kong quickly cleared the seat in front of him and sat down as well. Dust filled the air, making him cough.
"What's with all the seriousness, Dad? You didn't stash a fortune in here for me to inherit, did you?" Yun Kong whispered dramatically, as if discussing a top-secret plan.
His father broke into a smile. "Silly boy! What are you thinking?" But his smile soon faded as he resumed a serious expression.
"Yun Kong, have you truly decided to become a shinobi?" His father's tone was earnest.
Seeing his father's expression, Yun Kong held back a smile and answered seriously, "Yes, I have."
"Do you know what it means to be a shinobi?" his father asked.
Yun Kong nodded solemnly. Becoming a shinobi meant a life of uncertainty, even early death. It meant leaving behind the simple, peaceful life he could have had.
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