Hinoko landed gracefully on the familiar rooftops of the Uchiha compound. The setting sun cast a warm, comforting glow over the walls. By now, this landscape had become as familiar as it was pleasant.
She wasn't really in a hurry, but a lingering unease hovered in her mind. She had the feeling she had forgotten something… but if it slipped her mind, then maybe it wasn't that important, right? The thought faded as soon as the scent of cooking fires reached her—steamed rice, simmering meat.
She smiled inwardly.
— P.O.V Hinoko —
I moved without hesitation toward the house I'd grown used to. With a fluid leap, I landed on the roof and slipped in through a slightly open window.
The inside was quiet. Too quiet. Mikoto and Sasuke were probably still out.
I sighed, a little disappointed.
The house was empty. Mikoto must have gone out with Sasuke—so much for my early dinner. It was in moments like these that I really regretted not having psychic powers to compensate for my lack of hands.
Just as I was about to head back out, something caught my attention. A door left ajar, and at the back of the room, hanging from a hanger: a carefully pressed traditional outfit.
It was Itachi's. A dark tunic embroidered with the Uchiha fan, elegant yet simple. Brand new, most likely for the upcoming ceremony.
I stood there for a few seconds, then crept forward on silent paws.
The light filtered through the blinds, tracing golden lines across the fabric.
A devious little whisper tickled my mind.
— "You've been well-behaved these past weeks... You deserve a little payback, don't you?"
It wasn't right. But who could blame me? That fabric was just hanging there, like it was taunting me.
I lifted a paw. My claws slid out with a soft click.
— "Just one tiny scratch. One. For the principle of it."
My pads brushed the hem of the tunic. I was just about to press down when—
— "If you must take revenge, do it on the person, not on their clothes."
I froze. The voice—firm but calm—came from behind me.
I turned slowly… and met the sharp gaze of Fugaku Uchiha.
He was standing there in the doorway, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.
He didn't look angry, though, which was a huge relief.
Retracting my claw from the fabric, I batted at the air as if I were just playing.
— "Drop the act. I know you're smart enough to know better."
The tone in his voice made me tense.
Fugaku stepped slowly into the room, then lifted me by the scruff.
I didn't resist. He raised me until we were eye to eye. I stayed silent. We stared at each other for a long moment.
Then he sighed.
— "You're such an unruly little thing."
I braced for it—a scolding, a flick to the forehead, or for him to toss me out of the room.
I was sure he knew I could handle it physically and wouldn't hesitate to treat me roughly.
But instead, he settled me into his arms and began to stroke my fur.
I let out a surprised little mewl before starting to purr—though it didn't last long.
He tapped me lightly on the nose and said:
— "I don't know what made you want to damage that outfit, but don't do it again. Next time, you're sleeping outside for a week."
I nodded to show I understood.
A very faint smile, barely there, tugged at the corners of his mouth.
— "Since you arrived… Itachi seems more alive. Keep looking out for him."
I blinked. Did he really just say that? That's not what I expected from Fugaku.
I wanted to point out that, considering what I'd just been about to do, I was probably the last person who should be entrusted with such a task… but I only gave an affirming mewl.
Then I heard the front door open.
Before I could react, still in his arms, Fugaku stepped out of the room.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Mikoto appeared, Sasuke asleep in her arms.
She stopped when she saw Fugaku holding me, then let out a soft laugh.
— "Oh?" Mikoto said with a small smile. "Now that's a rare sight. You finally caught her."
It was true—I usually avoided Fugaku since I arrived. I think he likes cats.
— "This little rascal was about to scratch up Itachi's ceremonial outfit."
Mikoto looked at me questioningly, but I curled up in Fugaku's arms with my best look of innocent indifference.
That only made her laugh more. She went to place Sasuke in his crib.
Fugaku moved toward the fireplace and added some logs. When he did, I blew a small ember onto it, lighting it up. He turned to look, a sizable flame dancing at the tip of the wood.
He waved it out with a flick of his hand, then sat down at the low table in the living room and began sorting through some papers.
I decided not to bother him anymore. Itachi came home from the academy soon after and walked over to Fugaku.
They exchanged greetings and talked about the results of the test he'd taken.
Then Itachi walked over to me. I ignored him. I was still a bit miffed that my plan for revenge had failed.
Still, he scooped me up and whispered:
— "Stop sulking and I'll give you something tasty later."
At that, I gave in. Ever since becoming a Litten, I'd had a very particular palate.
I could eat anything, really—but Mikoto always monitored my meals, treating my odd cravings like kittenish whims.
Itachi, on the other hand, occasionally offered more variety, though in small quantities—fruits, sweets.
It made for a nice change from my usual fare, even if Mikoto's meals were undoubtedly healthier.
I just missed certain spices.
Soon, the smell of dinner filled the house, and the evening unfolded peacefully.
Until Sasuke started wailing... damn alarm clock.