Sunlight streamed gently through the windows of the Uchiha residence.Warm rays blanketed the room, and the plate of pastries on the table glowed as if blessed by the Fire Daimyō himself.
Tobika took one bite.
Closed his eyes.
Chewed slowly.
And thought, with all the sincerity of a man facing death:This tastes like sunlight that's been left out too long.
He swallowed, opened his eyes, and met Mikoto's polite smile across the table.
"Thank you for the hospitality, Mikoto-sama," Tobika said, lifting the teacup. "Is Captain Fugaku in?"
Mikoto didn't answer the question. She stared at him… specifically, at the fact he was actually eating the thing.
"How's the taste?"
"Quite good."
A lie.A noble lie.A survival-oriented lie.
He reached for a second piece. Ate it. Gracefully. Calmly. Like someone who had long accepted that life was suffering.
Still awful, he thought. Four pieces in, still awful. But edible. Barely.
Mikoto watched silently.
"Fugaku was called out a few minutes ago," she murmured. "Please wait a moment, Tobika-kun."
"Of course."
Tobika picked up another pastry.
Mikoto's chuckle sounded faintly suspicious. She glanced at the plate—at the batch she'd made that morning… the batch she fully intended to throw away because it tasted like chalk mixed with regret.
When Shisui arrived with Tobika in tow, she'd been forced—by etiquette—to offer something.So she brought out the pastry disaster.
Yet Tobika ate them.
Actively.Repeatedly.And even said they were good.
"Are they… truly delicious?" Mikoto asked, baffled.
"They're great. Can't you tell?"
"…I can."
She stared at him.Stared at the pastries.Stared harder at him.
Impossible. Did only my piece taste horrible? Are the rest actually good?
To test the theory, she bit into one.
Her smile froze.
Nope. Still awful.Still the failure batch.
She wanted to slap herself.Tasted it twice. I'm an idiot.
Tobika caught her expression and nodded with grave seriousness.
"Mikoto-sama, the flavor is… unique."
"Yes," she said stiffly. "Quite unique."
She stared at him again.This boy—this deceptively polite little demon—had eaten half the failed batch so she wouldn't be embarrassed.That level of social maneuvering… at his age?
Unnerving.
Tobika saw her pick up a third pastry and frowned.
"…Is it delicious?"
Mikoto nodded gently. "Very."
Tobika narrowed his eyes.
…She lost her sense of taste? Is this a medical issue?
"Lady Mikoto," he said gravely. "Open your mouth. Stick out your tongue. I'm checking you."
"…What?"
"Please. It's urgent."
Some combination of his expression and his known medical skill broke her resistance. She shut her eyes and obeyed.
Tobika grabbed her tongue, inspected it, rotated it slightly like he was checking produce at the market.
Then blinked.
Perfectly healthy.
But the pastries were atrocious.Any normal person's tongue should have rebelled.
He let go.
Mikoto bolted upright, face pale.
Without a word, she sprinted out the door.
Toward the hospital.
Tobika sat there alone.
"…So it wasn't her taste buds? She just… ate it? Voluntarily?"
He doubted his medical skills for the first time in his life.
A moment later, Fugaku entered with his usual grim dignity—only to find Tobika staring at the floor like his world had shattered.
"What happened?" Fugaku asked.
"…Doubting my medical expertise."
"…?"
Fugaku wisely chose not to dig deeper. He sat.
"Flying Bird—Tobika," he began, "the Fourth Hokage sent word this morning. You are to report to ANBU tomorrow."
He raised two fingers.
"In ANBU, you must work diligently. Remember the Uchiha's honor. While the Fourth bears us no ill will, Konoha's elders still hold influence. They may sway decisions in the future."
He leaned forward.
"That is why we need eyes and ears of our own. We support the Hokage, but not blindly. When clan interests are at stake, we must have our own voice."
"Understood."
Tobika nodded.Spy work for seven months. Then Hiruzen returns, I get kicked out. Perfect.
Meanwhile, elsewhere…
The Fourth Hokage's Home
Kushina, heavily pregnant, lounged on the sofa while Minato fed her slices of apple.
She held a file—Tobika's background.
"So he took on a disciple?" Kushina muttered. "Unexpected."
She frowned.
"Minato… mentally, is he alright? Losing comrades in the Third War hit many shinobi hard. And Uchiha are… emotional."
"His psychological assessment was clean," Minato said gently. "And taking a student may help fill that void. He won't fall into darkness."
Kushina didn't look convinced.
She chewed her apple slice and grumbled, "That fat summon of his… I remember stepping on its tail once. When it glared at me with its Sharingan I could feel the power in those eyes. That kid's skill surpasses most of ANBU."
Minato rubbed the back of his head.
"Maybe I'll assign him like Kakashi—an ANBU medic specialist."
Kushina stared.
Protect me?An Uchiha?With the elders still alive?Absolutely not.
She shook her head immediately.
The elders would sooner swallow a live explosive tag than allow an Uchiha near the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki.