42. That’s My Son
Shin handed his bag over to Kiba, making sure to remind him not to breathe a word of it to Tsume. Then he fell into step beside Sasuke and headed home with him.
Tsume had warned him—explicitly, unmistakably—to stay away from the Uchiha. But Sasuke's parents had been nothing but kind to him, and there were things Shin needed to understand. Things only that household could tell him.
He'd been here once before. The route was already mapped in his memory, and before long the two of them passed through the gates of the Uchiha compound.
"I'm home."
"Pardon the intrusion."
They stepped through the front door together. Mikoto emerged from a back room at the sound of their voices, and her face lit up the moment she spotted Shin.
"Shin! You came!"
Sasuke's mouth twitched. He couldn't recall the last time his mother had looked that delighted just because he walked through the door. You'd think Shin was her actual son.
"Aunt Mikoto." Shin bowed politely.
"Come in, come in." Her smile was radiant.
They shed their sandals at the entryway and padded inside. Shin's eyes drifted across the room—not searching for anything in particular, just taking stock.
"Is... Uncle Fugaku home?" He hesitated over the word. Uncle. He'd weighed the alternatives and settled on it; Fugaku had never been anything but civil to him.
"He's here," Mikoto said, still smiling.
A sliding door opened at the far end of the hall. Fugaku stepped out, regarded Shin for a long moment, and gave a measured nod.
"Shin. You came."
"Yes, sir." Shin dipped into a bow.
"Father." Sasuke bowed as well.
"I was just about to start dinner," Mikoto said brightly. "Shin, you'll stay and eat with us, won't you?"
"That's... I'd hate to impose."
"Impose?" Mikoto crouched down in front of him, her voice soft and warm. "I'm genuinely happy you're here."
Something in her expression—the unguarded sincerity of it—told him she meant every word. He felt it settle somewhere beneath his ribs, quiet and warm.
He nodded.
"Wonderful!" Her whole face brightened.
"And Shin—" Fugaku spoke from where he stood, his tone unhurried, almost gentle. "You're welcome here anytime. Treat this house as your own."
"You're too kind," Shin said quickly.
Sasuke watched both his parents orbit around Shin like he was the center of gravity, and the feeling that crept through his chest was something dangerously close to being overlooked.
"I'm going to train." His voice came out clipped. He turned and headed for the training ground behind the house without waiting for a response.
……
"Sasuke?" Shin watched him leave, confused.
"Don't mind him." Mikoto chuckled softly. "I need to get dinner started. Make yourself comfortable—or go keep Sasuke company at the training ground, if you'd like."
"Thank you for the trouble."
"None of that." She smiled and disappeared into the kitchen.
The living room fell quiet. Just Shin and Fugaku.
The silence thickened immediately.
"How is Sasuke doing at the Academy?" Fugaku broke it after a long pause. He settled into a cross-legged seat on the tatami. At his gesture, Shin knelt across from him.
"Very well. He excels in every area."
"And the boy who outperforms him?"
It took Shin a beat to realize Fugaku was talking about him. The tone was almost teasing—an odd register for a man who rarely smiled.
Shin weighed his answer. If Sasuke had been losing to someone else, Fugaku might have been disappointed. But with Shin, it was different. Whether Shin held the top spot or Sasuke did, Fugaku seemed willing to accept either outcome.
"I just have a few tricks. Sasuke is every bit as capable."
Fugaku shook his head, unconvinced.
"Your shuriken marks are on par with Sasuke's, from what I hear."
Shin understood the implication. The Uchiha were known for their shuriken mastery—it was practically in the blood.
The thought of shuriken led to Shisui, and something behind Shin's eyes dimmed.
"What happened to Shisui was a terrible loss." Fugaku sighed.
Shin's head snapped up. His eyes went wide.
He knows.
Fugaku knew that Shisui had taught him shuriken technique.
Shin's mind raced. Why would Fugaku know about that? Shisui would never have volunteered something so damaging to himself—teaching clan secrets to an outsider. Unless—
The memory surfaced: that day at the Memorial Stone, when he'd encountered Fugaku. The gap in his recollection. The missing minutes.
Fugaku had placed him under genjutsu. He'd learned everything directly from Shin's own mind.
The pieces fell into place. None of them were comforting. Shin lowered his head, his expression settling into something flat and still.
"You don't need to worry." Fugaku seemed to read every thought passing through him. A faint, unconcerned smile. "Under normal circumstances, teaching clan techniques to an outsider is forbidden."
Silence.
"But if the outsider is you, that changes things."
Shin blinked.
"Shin." Fugaku's gaze rested on the boy's bowed head. "You don't need to be afraid of anything."
"Everything the Uchiha have—"
"Any of it. If you want it, it's yours."
Shin went rigid. He didn't respond. Didn't dare.
The silence stretched until it calcified.
"What really happened to Shisui?" The words left him low and measured.
Another silence.
"The investigation is ongoing. Nothing useful has turned up." Fugaku's voice was careful, deliberate.
"I see."
"Don't let it weigh on you too heavily. Shisui wouldn't want to see you like this." A sigh.
Shin smiled bitterly to himself, then raised his head and forced a proper one onto his face.
"If you ever have questions about shuriken technique, you can bring them to me," Fugaku offered.
They spoke for a while longer after that—school, classmates, inconsequential things. Fugaku kept circling back to the same gentle insistence: Come to the compound more often. You're always welcome.
Then Sasuke burst through the door, flushed and breathless, his eyes blazing.
"Father—I did it! I can do the Great Fireball Jutsu!"
Shin looked up, startled.
"Is that so?" The corner of Fugaku's mouth lifted—barely, almost imperceptibly.
The lake.
Fugaku, Shin, and Sasuke stood at the water's edge. Sasuke was at the front. Fugaku had pulled Shin along too, saying he should watch and see if it interested him.
Fugaku and Shin stood behind Sasuke, watching. Sasuke stared at the lake's surface, jaw tight.
He drew several deep breaths. His hands began moving—steady, practiced, each seal crisp and deliberate.
Don't fail.
Don't fail.
Don't fail.
The final seal locked into place. Chakra surged into his chest. Right hand rose to his lips.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
BOOM.
A blazing line of scarlet erupted from Sasuke's mouth and detonated across the lake's surface, swelling into an enormous sphere of fire. Flames roared and churned, rising in a towering column of heat above the water.
The blast of scorching air hit Shin full in the face. His entire field of vision was consumed by fire—nothing but flame, horizon to horizon, painting his features a deep crimson.
"That's... incredible." He whispered it, half-dazed.
This was the first time he'd witnessed jutsu like this. And from this close, the sheer scale of it was staggering.
Seconds later the flames guttered and died, leaving the lake's surface wreathed in white steam. Sasuke straightened, exhaled hard, and swallowed against the raw ache in his throat.
He turned to face his father. The confidence drained from his face and nervousness flooded back in.
He didn't know if it was enough.
Fugaku was still watching the steam drift across the water, his expression unreadable. His gaze shifted to Sasuke—the anxious set of his jaw, the white medicated patches on his cheeks from all the practice burns.
Silence.
Still... not good enough?
No reaction. Not a flicker. Sasuke's shoulders sagged. His fists clenched at his sides.
Then Fugaku laughed—low and quiet, just a huff of breath. Sasuke's head jerked up. His father stood with his chin slightly dipped, the corner of his mouth curved upward, something warm and real behind it.
"Well done."
"That's my son."
...
That's... my... son.
Sasuke's pupils dilated slowly. He stared.
"Keep it up. Don't bring shame to the crest on your back." Fugaku's smile lingered, easy and unhurried.
"Y-yes! Yes, sir!" Sasuke's voice cracked with how fast the words tumbled out. He blinked hard against the sting in his eyes, but the grin splitting his face was impossible to hide.
Shin watched him and felt something loosen in his own chest. He knew what this was—the joy of a boy who'd finally, finally earned his father's acknowledgment.
Not something Shin had ever experienced himself.
All those days of training until he couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. Those scorched lips and burned cheeks. For Sasuke, this single sentence was worth every bit of it.
Sasuke turned to Shin next, flashing him a triumphant smirk.
I've got one thing on you now.
Shin just shook his head, smiling.
"Shin, would you like to try?" Fugaku's voice came from behind them. The warmth hadn't left his expression.
"Huh?"
"Huh?"
Sasuke was stunned that his father would offer to teach an outsider the clan's signature jutsu. Shin was stunned that Fugaku was offering at all.
Fugaku's dark eyes shifted—the black irises blooming into crimson, three tomoe spinning lazily in each. His gaze swept over Shin once, assessing, then faded back to black.
"Go ahead. Your chakra nature has a strong fire affinity." A slight smile.
If Fugaku said so, Sasuke wasn't going to argue. He stepped aside to make room.
Shin couldn't very well refuse either.
"Did you catch the hand seals Sasuke used?"
Shin thought back. Nodded.
"Good. As you form the seals, draw your chakra and concentrate it in your chest. Then take a deep breath and release it through your mouth..."
He walked Shin through the mechanics point by point—the same way he'd once taught Itachi and Sasuke.
Shin listened, considered for a moment, then his hands blurred through the seals. Chakra gathered in his chest.
Sasuke's eyes locked onto him. Unblinking. He needed to see what Shin's first attempt looked like—needed to know how it compared.
The final seal completed. Shin drew a sharp breath. Chakra surged.
Fire Release: Great Fireball Jutsu!
Fwoosh—
A fireball the size of a human head tumbled from his lips, trailing a thin ribbon of flame, sputtering across the lake's surface.
"..."
"Pfft—" Sasuke slapped a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter.
Same as me on the first try.
Fugaku watched with quiet amusement.
But Shin was already replaying the sensation in his mind—the way the chakra had surged and ignited, that fleeting instant where the flames had moved like an extension of his will.
He glanced at Fugaku. Fugaku gave a small nod.
Shin's hands flew through the seals again.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
BOOM.
The sky turned red. A torrent of flame exploded across the lake, vast and roaring and alive, so bright it seemed to swallow the evening light and make the world go dark around it.
Sasuke's eyes blew wide. He stared at Shin's silhouette against the inferno, disbelief written across every feature.
The heat hammered into them. The fireball was every bit as large as his own had been.
Fugaku, too, found himself watching Shin's back with something like wonder.
……
"Itachi, this is called the Great Fireball Jutsu. It's the foundational technique of our clan. The hand seals are—"
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
"Heh— learned it already."
"You— ha! That's my son!”
……
The flames receded. White mist hung over the lake. Shin let out a long breath and straightened.
He turned around. Sasuke was gaping at him.
"How did you—" Sasuke murmured.
Shin chuckled and was about to say something when Fugaku's laughter erupted behind them, startling him.
"Ha ha ha ha—!"
"Excellent! Excellent! Ha ha ha—"
Fugaku stood with his head tilted back, laughing—openly, unreservedly—as though something long wound tight inside him had finally come undone.
Sasuke snapped out of his daze. He shot Shin a look that was equal parts resentment and grudging amazement—but the sound of his father's laughter softened even that. His expression eased, degree by reluctant degree.
It's been a long time since Dad laughed like that.
This guy...
"Hey—! You three! Dinner's ready!"
Mikoto's voice carried from the veranda. She stood in the doorway in her apron, waving at them with a bright smile.