I slept too early, which meant I woke just before dawn with my body fully rested and my mind anything but. The house was quiet, the air still cool, yet I lay there staring at the ceiling with a restless weight pressing down on my chest. It was not fear exactly. It was that wrong feeling, the kind that whispered you were out of place, that something here did not belong. That kind of unease was never a good sign for my mental state, which caused a slight sliver of panic to slip in, and I knew better than to ignore it. Staying still would only make it worse. I got up, ate a banana, stretched until the stiffness eased from my limbs, and stepped outside. Running had always helped. Motion cleared the static in my head when nothing else could, and it helped remove the sluggishness that was preventing my mind from moving on from those thoughts.
I started slow, letting my breathing settle as my feet carried me through the compound. The sky was just beginning to change, deep blue bleeding into dull red along the horizon. It felt like the right time to move. Early enough that the world had not fully woken, late enough that I was not alone with my thoughts. I used the run as an excuse to explore, letting my path wander as I followed streets I had not walked before.
The compound, to my surprise, was not silent. Lights glowed behind paper windows. I passed courtyards where people were already training, some alone, others in pairs, wooden weapons clacking softly in the dim light. Conversations died as I ran by. At first, the looks I received were curious, assessing. Outsider curiosity, measured and cold. That changed the deeper I went. The air felt different, heavier, and I began to notice eyes tracking me from shadowed doorways and rooftops. Curiosity hardened into something sharper. Suspicion. Resentment.
In the darker stretches between streets, red eyes glimmered back at me, brief flashes of light that vanished when I focused on them. My pace slowed without me realizing it. Instinct screamed that I had crossed into somewhere I was not welcome. I should have waited for Shisui. I knew that. But I had been in a bad state when I left, too eager to escape my own thoughts to slow down and think things through.
I tried to reassure myself as I ran. They had to know I was allowed here. Fugaku himself had visited. The entire compound had seen or at least heard of it. That should have mattered. It did not feel like it did.
As I passed one of the larger houses, a pair of red eyes opened in the shadow beside it, close enough that I felt the shift in presence before I saw him. I glanced sideways. The man stood half-hidden, massive, easily nearing two meters tall, his posture relaxed but coiled. He had not been there a moment ago. Or maybe he had, and I had simply failed to notice. I took a slow breath and looked forward again, deciding to turn back at the next street and head home.
I never reached it.
Pain exploded across my forehead as my face struck something solid. The impact staggered me, and I stumbled back with a sharp curse under my breath, vision swimming for a moment. I stared ahead, confused. There was nothing there. No wall. No obstruction. My teeth clenched as the realization snapped into place a heartbeat later. "Genjutsu," I muttered.
I straightened slowly and forced chakra through my system, deliberately disrupting my flow. The world lurched, my senses slipping for an instant, and then everything snapped into focus. The street was narrower than I had perceived. A solid stone wall stood directly in front of me, close enough that I could reach out and touch it. It had been there the entire time.
Soft laughter rippled through the darkness, layered and deliberate, coming from more than one direction. Red eyes ignited in the shadows as figures stepped closer, their Sharingan burning more clearly as the sky continued to brighten.
A man stepped forward, a kunai already in his hand, his smile thin and ugly. "Looks like the Hokage's pet got lost," he said. "You poor kid. Let me give you a hand."
He did not strike. He did not need to. The message was clear enough. The hostility rolled off him in waves, thick and deliberate, and for the first time I was not entirely sure how far they were willing to go. My chakra stirred in response, cold and sharp, my gaze hardening as I met his eyes. The grin widened.
"Oh," he said softly. "Look at that. The pet has a spine."
The kunai moved closer.
Steel rang out as another kunai struck his weapon mid-motion, sparks flashing as the blow knocked his hand wide. The man hissed in surprise and twisted toward the source.
Kaen stood there, arm still extended from the throw, his face tight but controlled. "Please stay away from him," he said, his voice steady despite the tension coiled through his body. "He is Lord Fugaku's guest, under his protection. Any harm done to him would stain our pride as a clan."
The man snorted and spat onto the ground. "Looks like the Hokage picked up another Uchiha pet."
Kaen's jaw clenched. I felt his anger flare, sharp and dangerous, but he forced it down with visible effort. "He saved Shisui," Kaen said. "Our clan leader thanked him for that. Are you suggesting Lord Fugaku's words mean nothing?"
That did it.
The man stiffened, irritation flashing across his face before he masked it. He glanced at the others, then clicked his tongue and stepped back. "Tch. See you later, pets."
One by one, the Sharingan around us dimmed and vanished as their owners melted back into the shadows between buildings, leaving the street empty and silent once more.
Only then did I realize how tightly my fists were clenched.
Kaen let out a sharp sigh and looked at me sideways, eyes narrowing. "I know you are stupid," he said flatly, "but are you really that stupid?" I opened my mouth to argue, then stopped. He was right, and I knew it. He continued, his voice lower now. "Never come near this area again. It is dangerous for an outsider. And never move alone. Stay with Shisui-sensei. Always. Is that clear?"
I exhaled and nodded. We walked back in silence toward Shisui's house, the tension lingering between us like a held breath.
We were almost there when the door slid open and Shisui stumbled out, half-dressed and clearly panicked. He was struggling into his pants while tugging a shirt over his head, hair a mess, eyes unfocused as he muttered, "Where did he go this early…" He froze when he saw us, relief flooding his face. "Noa," he said sharply, stepping closer. "Where did you go?"
I looked down before I could answer. Kaen spoke instead. "He went for a run. Alone. In the compound," he said evenly. "And ran into some unfriendly neighbors."
The implication landed instantly. Shisui's eyes widened, the last traces of sleep evaporating as something cold and sharp settled over his expression. He turned to Kaen. "What happened," he asked quietly, "and where?"
Kaen hesitated for a fraction of a second, visibly shaken by the sudden shift in Shisui's presence, then explained what had happened. Every word made the air feel heavier.
By the time he finished, Shisui's face was flushed with restrained fury. His hands twitched as if ready to weave signs, chakra stirring dangerously close to the surface. I stepped in before it could go any further. "Sensei," I said quickly, "you are supposed to avoid using chakra as much as possible, remember? Please calm down. I am fine. And next time I will not leave without telling you. If needed, I will move with you."
Kaen nodded in approval, satisfied that I had taken his warning seriously. Shisui drew in a slow, controlled breath. The anger did not vanish, but it folded inward, tightly contained. He rubbed the back of his neck once, then looked me straight in the eyes. "I am sorry you had to deal with that," he said. "This is Konoha. Every shinobi should feel safe anywhere inside the village walls."
Kaen looked like he wanted to say something. The thought was written all over his face. Given how the Uchiha were treated outside their isolated compound, the statement rang hollow. But he swallowed it. He would not speak against someone he admired that deeply.
Shisui turned and led us to a large training ground near his home, his stride purposeful and unhurried. "This does not change what we were already preparing for," he said calmly. "Chunin Exam training begins in earnest now. The intensity will increase. You two will work together on a deeper level and start thinking like a single unit instead of two shinobi tolerating each other's presence. Coordination, timing, and trust are no longer optional. Is that clear?"
Kaen and I nodded immediately, a little too fast under the weight of his tone and the anger he had not fully shed. Shisui glanced back at us, then smiled, sharp and focused.
"Good," he said. "Time for the real work."