Not long after, Gen's shadow clone returned to Sweet Home carrying a scroll. Gen set down his spoon, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and took the document. He passed it to Anko just as the clone vanished in a puff of white smoke.
She unfolded it, eyes scanning the page, then handed it back with a flat expression.
She'd braced herself for the truth, but the confirmation still hit hard.
One year. That was all that separated her, a genin, from a fully-fledged Jōnin.
"Don't look so crushed," Gen said. "Dessert's on me today. I'll buy you another when I officially become Orochimaru-sama's disciple."
Still untouched by the shadow of Orochimaru's future betrayal, Anko's optimism bounced back instantly. She grinned. "You said it yourself. Don't back out."
"Relax. I've got savings."
They left together, parting ways after a short walk.
By six that evening, Gen had finished his training, showered, and sprawled on the sofa with Shuryu. It wasn't just idle play, through the Soul–Soul Fruit's link, he felt every flicker of flame within his companion, deepening his control over fire's properties.
The doorbell rang. Shuryu froze mid-air, then became a streak of light, touching the gate's switch before returning to coil into a fierce tattoo on Gen's left forearm.
Gen opened the door with a smile. "What brings you here?"
Kakashi and Nohara Rin stood outside.
"Come in."
They followed him into the living room. Gen grabbed three bottles of juice from the fridge and handed them over.
"You could've warned me," he said. "Almost dinner time, and I've got nothing prepared."
Kakashi accepted the drink, his tone serious. "Sensei told us everything. I didn't expect..."
"Gen," Rin cut in gently, "don't be discouraged. We might not be teammates anymore, but we're still friends. If you ever need help, Kakashi and I are here."
A month or two in the war had forged a quiet camaraderie between them.
"Thanks," Gen said. "But this isn't life or death. Just a bit of regret, that's all. Let's drop it. Stay for dinner, a chance to test my cooking."
He headed into the kitchen. Rin and Kakashi exchanged a glance before Kakashi called after him, "Need a hand?"
"Can you cook?"
"Of course."
"Then come on. We'll eat sooner."
Since his father's death, Kakashi had learned to fend for himself.
Rin, raised in a civilian family, had been taught from an early age. But neither had seen the dishes Gen prepared; double-cooked pork, mapo tofu, kung pao chicken, stir-fried greens, tomato-and-egg soup. Simple fare in his past life, but exotic here.
"How is it?" Gen asked once they'd each taken a bite.
"Delicious! I didn't think something that looked this unusual could taste so good," Rin said, eyes narrowing in bliss. "Whoever marries you is lucky."
"It's better than my cooking," Kakashi admitted after lowering his mask.
"Then eat up," Gen grinned. "There's plenty."
Conversation faded as they focused on the meal. Afterward, Kakashi and Rin helped with the dishes before heading to the door.
"Although I've only met Shisui a few times," Gen said as he walked them out, "I've heard he's a good man. An unusual Uchiha… like me."
Kakashi and Rin both blinked. Another "unusual" Uchiha? Team 7 did seem to attract them.
"I understand," Kakashi said. "We'll treat him the same way we did you and Obito."
"Good."
"Goodbye, Gen," Rin said with a smile.
"Take care," Gen replied, watching them go.
I hope Shisui can change your fates… even if the odds are slim.
His thoughts drifted to his own power, Shuryu0, the Homies, formidable among jōnin, but still far from monsters like Madara, Black Zetsu, or even White Zetsu. Madara might be ancient and near death, but a lean camel was still bigger than a horse.
The two vanished from sight. Gen turned toward his house — only to spot another figure approaching.
A young man in a black high-collared shirt and trousers, brown armor on one shoulder, white wrappings on his legs. The Uchiha crest on his back, a short blade slung behind him. His round nose caught the light even under shadow.
Busy day for visitors, Gen thought. His home was tucked deep in Uchiha territory, far from the clan's core area, a branch family's allotment. Though he'd been promoted to household head after awakening the Sharingan, he'd stayed put out of habit.
"Shisui. Here to see me?"
"Yes, Gen."
The clan's rising star smiled, one of the so-called Uchiha Twins.
"Come in."
They sat in the living room.
"Juice or tea?" Gen asked.
"Juice. Tea's a hassle."
Once they'd settled on the sofa, Gen leaned back. "So, what's this about?"
"I wanted to apologize," Shisui said plainly. "And to ask about my new teammates."
"What's there to apologize for? It's not your fault. Not anyone's. Just a choice."
He shrugged. "Whether it's you, me, or anyone else; if they're Uchiha, it's for the family."
Konoha's ties with the clan weren't yet frayed, and Shisui saw nothing wrong with that sentiment. Becoming a disciple was good for Uchiha, harmless to Konoha — why take offense?
"Still," Shisui said, "I wanted to say it."
Gen just sighed. "…You really are something."