Night settled quietly over the Uchiha district.
The repaired roof no longer leaked, but Kaen still liked sitting outside when the air cooled. From the rooftop, he could sense most of the district through Observation Haki — distant conversations, patrol rhythms, the emotional atmosphere that words rarely captured.
And tonight…
It felt heavy.
He'd noticed it more lately.
Villagers' polite smiles tightening slightly when they realized he was Uchiha.
Clan members offering obligation instead of warmth.
War orphan status adding another invisible barrier.
Not outright hostility.
Just… distance.
Constant, subtle, exhausting.
Kaen rested his chin on his folded arms.
Do I really have to live like this forever?
Like something tolerated, not welcomed.
Fragments from his past-life knowledge drifted through his mind — other shinobi nations, different leadership styles, shifting alliances.
Kumogakure, the Land of Lightning.
The Raikage's village had a reputation: direct, strength-focused, sometimes blunt but less politically layered than Konoha. At least, that was how stories portrayed it.
Would they treat an Uchiha differently?
Would they even accept one?
Impossible to know.
And speculation alone wasn't reason enough to abandon everything.
Because leaving a hidden village wasn't simple.
It meant:
Risk.
Suspicion.
Possibly being labeled rogue shinobi before even graduating.
Kaen understood consequences too well to romanticize escape.
Still, the thought lingered.
Not escape exactly.
Options.
Having options meant control.
And control meant safety.
He also knew one thing clearly:
If he ever questioned his place officially — whether in the clan or village — he'd need strength first.
Real strength.
Enough that his voice carried weight, not dismissal.
That meant someday speaking with the Uchiha clan leadership directly.
Not as an abandoned child.
As someone they couldn't ignore.
But not yet.
Definitely not yet.
Inside, Hitomi moved quietly, probably preparing their simple dinner. Observation Haki picked up her steady presence — familiar, reassuring.
She was part of his calculation too.
Any future decision wouldn't be his alone.
They'd grown up surviving together.
That bond mattered more than politics.
Kaen exhaled slowly.
For now, nothing changed:
Train.
Observe.
Grow stronger quietly.
Let time reveal opportunities.
Rushing only played into other people's expectations.
Patience created leverage.
He glanced toward the distant Hokage Monument visible beyond rooftops.
Symbol of unity, they said.
Kaen didn't reject that idea.
But he also didn't accept it blindly.
Unity had to include people like him too.
Otherwise… it was just a word carved in stone.
Hitomi's voice floated up from below.
"Kaen, food's ready."
He stood.
One last look at the quiet district.
Not home exactly.
But not an enemy either.
Just a place he was still learning how to exist within.
For now.