Fugaku's Gift

The training ground was still veiled in a thin morning mist on the holiday. Qianyu had already finished his basic physical training and was practicing the chakra control technique he had just mastered against a row of wooden posts.

After several months of secret study, the fusion of the two chakra sources within him had become increasingly natural and smooth. Though his Wood Release could still only produce a few tiny vines from his palm, his use of the Sharingan and his basic taijutsu had improved by leaps and bounds.

Sweat dripped from his chin. Just as he adjusted his breathing and prepared for another round, footsteps sounded from the entrance to the training ground.

Sasuke Uchiha stood there in a dark blue short-sleeved shirt, hands in his pockets, his expression as cool and indifferent as ever.

"Cangshu Qianyu." His voice was clear and cold.

Qianyu stopped and wiped away his sweat with a towel. "Sasuke? What is it?"

Rather than answering directly, Sasuke glanced around—the training ground held only the two of them at the moment. He stepped closer and lowered his voice. "My father wants to see you. Now."

Qianyu's heart sank. Fugaku? He still vividly remembered that bone-chilling look from a year ago, during the academy entrance day. And then there had been that late-night assassination attempt... His muscles tensed instinctively, and his Sharingan nearly activated on its own.

"Where? The Uchiha compound?" he asked, doing his best to keep his voice calm.

"No." Sasuke shook his head, a rare trace of confusion appearing on his face. "He told me to take you to... a barbecue restaurant."

Qianyu froze. A barbecue restaurant? This was not at all how he had expected things to unfold.

Half an hour later, Qianyu followed Sasuke into a rather upscale barbecue restaurant on Konoha's commercial street. The scent of sizzling fat filled the air. It was breakfast time, yet the restaurant was unusually quiet.

"My father is in a private room on the second floor," Sasuke explained briefly, leading Qianyu upstairs.

When he pushed open the door to the innermost private room, Qianyu saw Fugaku Uchiha seated in seiza beside a low table. The clan head was not wearing his formal attire embroidered with the fan crest today, but a simple dark gray kimono.

"Sit." Fugaku raised his eyes to Qianyu, his voice steady and unreadable.

Sasuke sat beside his father. After hesitating for a second, Qianyu chose to sit opposite them. The door slid shut, leaving only the soft crackle of charcoal and the restrained breathing of the three people in the room.

Fugaku did not speak immediately. Instead, he picked up the teapot and poured Qianyu a cup of tea. Sasuke's eyes widened slightly at the gesture. He had never seen his father personally pour tea for an outsider.

"At this time last year," Fugaku began at last, setting down the teapot and looking directly at Qianyu, "on the night of the ninja academy registration day, you were attacked in an alley near your new home. Two masked men. Standard-issue kunai. Ruthless attacks, but with restraint."

Qianyu's fingers clenched beneath the table. So it had been him.

"I arranged it." Fugaku admitted it frankly, his tone carrying a grave honesty. "But I never intended to kill you. It was a... test. Or rather, a confirmation."

Qianyu said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

"I needed to confirm two things." Fugaku continued, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the rim of his teacup. "First, whether you possessed the potential for the Sharingan. Second, how great that potential was."

He paused, and his gaze became complicated. "Both answers were yes. Not only did you awaken it, but your ocular power even surpassed that of an adult Uchiha."

Sasuke stared at his father in shock, then turned to Qianyu. The Sharingan? This classmate of his?

"Why?" Qianyu finally asked, his voice dry.

Fugaku fell silent for several seconds, as if organizing his words. "Because of your face, Cangshu Qianyu," he said slowly. "You look too much like someone. Someone our Uchiha clan once tried desperately to forget, yet could never truly erase."

He did not speak the name, but both of them understood perfectly.

Sasuke: "???"

"That attack that night was an extreme measure. I admit it." Fugaku lowered his gaze for a moment. When he raised it again, there was a rare apology in his eyes. "As the head of the clan, I had to be responsible for the safety of my people.

Any anomaly connected to that person had to be investigated thoroughly. But as an adult, using such methods against a child... that was my failing. I apologize for it."

"You do not have to accept it." Fugaku seemed to see through his thoughts. "Apologizing is my responsibility; whether you accept it is your right. But beyond that, the Uchiha clan owes you."

He took a scroll and a bulging money pouch from his robes, then pushed them across the table toward Qianyu.

"The scroll contains Uchiha Fire Release techniques from basic to advanced, as well as the essentials of Sharingan training—from the conventional methods of developing it from one tomoe to three tomoe, to some... insights into ocular techniques left behind by our predecessors."

Fugaku spoke slowly, every word carrying weight. "The money is compensation, as well as support. Ninja training requires resources. It cannot be easy on your own."

Qianyu looked at the items on the table, his thoughts churning. Fire Release and methods for training the Sharingan—this was exactly the systematic guidance he needed most right now! Though Abin had brought many scrolls, Madara's notes were often too profound or too casual, lacking the necessary foundational links.

And the money... it was true. He had wanted to buy better ninja tools and medicinal ingredients, but he was always short on funds.

"Why are you giving me these?" Qianyu did not reach for either the scroll or the money pouch. "Just because you feel sorry?"

"This is what the clan owes you,"

Fugaku gave him a long look. "No matter what your origins may be, the purest Uchiha blood flows through you. The Sharingan does not lie. And the Uchiha will not abandon their own clansmen—especially... clansmen with potential."

"Father!" Sasuke could not help speaking up, his face full of confusion. His father had never valued an outsider so highly, much less given him secret clan training methods!

Fugaku raised a hand to stop his son, but his eyes never left Qianyu. "I have only one request. At the academy, if you can, please look after Sasuke. He is very talented, but too proud. He does not understand how treacherous people can be."

Countless images flashed through Qianyu's mind—the blood-red moon on the night of the massacre, Sasuke kneeling amid piles of corpses. That was the sin of his entire family, but the innocent children who died around them were the ones who had truly suffered a tragic death.

He took a deep breath and raised his head, meeting Fugaku's eyes. Those black eyes were calm and still at the moment, but Qianyu could sense the surging worry beneath them—for the clan, for the village, for the future.

"Clan Head Fugaku," Qianyu said softly, yet every word was clear. "Thank you for your apology, and for these gifts. I will accept them, and I will do my best to look after Sasuke—as a classmate."

He paused, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. What he said next might change something—or it might be completely useless. But he had to say it.

"However, I also have something to say." Qianyu leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice further. "As the head of a clan, you must consider not only the present, but also the future.

"If... if one day, you sense that the clan is about to face an unavoidable disaster, perhaps... before it comes, you could try to hide away some children. Couldn't you?"

Fugaku's pupils suddenly contracted.

Qianyu continued, his tone calm. "Children are innocent. They should not be buried alongside the conflicts of adults. Sometimes, the continuation of a bloodline does not require a grand and glorious struggle. It only requires... quietly surviving."

He looked directly into Fugaku's shocked eyes and spoke each word slowly and clearly. "You know what I mean."

The private room was deathly silent. The crackling of the charcoal fire seemed especially piercing. Sasuke stared at the two of them blankly, completely unable to grasp the deeper meaning behind their conversation.

Fugaku's expression changed. Cracks appeared in that face which was usually as steady as a mask. His fingers trembled slightly as he gripped his teacup, his knuckles turning white.

After a long while, he slowly let out a breath. His voice was hoarse. "You... how much do you know?"

"Not much." Qianyu shook his head, revealing a somewhat helpless smile that belonged to a six-year-old child. "I'm just an orphan who happened to resemble some important person, happened to awaken my eyes, and happened to... wonder how I would protect the weakest members of the clan if I were the clan head."

That was as far as he could go. Predict the clan's destruction outright? Leaving aside whether Fugaku would believe him, Qianyu himself might be treated as a madman or a conspirator.

Fugaku remained silent for a full minute. His gaze repeatedly swept across Qianyu's face, as though he wanted to see through flesh and skin and discover exactly what was hidden within this child.

At last, he closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, he had regained the composure of a clan head—but deep in his eyes was an added trace of resolve.

"I understand." Fugaku rose to his feet, his movements somewhat stiff. "Sasuke, it's time for us to go."

Sasuke hurriedly stood up, looking at his father in confusion before turning to Qianyu.

Fugaku walked to the door and paused. Without looking back, he spoke in a low yet clear voice. "Cangshu Qianyu, thank you for your promise. Take care of Sasuke. As for the rest..."

He did not finish. He pulled open the door and walked out.

Qianyu sat alone in the private room, looking at the scroll and money pouch on the table, then at the gradually dimming fire in the charcoal brazier.

He did not know what his veiled warning could change. Would Fugaku act? How many children could he save? Could a few more branches of the Uchiha bloodline endure?

He didn't know.

But he had done what he could. In this cruel world, sometimes a little kindness, a little warning, might be the only light in the darkness.

He put away the scroll and money pouch, then got up and left. When he stepped out of the barbecue restaurant, the sunlight was just right. Konoha's streets bustled with activity, and children's laughter drifted over from afar.

War orphan Cangshu Qianyu, a creation made from Madara Uchiha's cells, a visitor from another world.

The road ahead was still uncertain, and Root and the Third Hokage still watched from the shadows.

But at least now, he had a few more bargaining chips in hand.

"One step at a time." Qianyu murmured to himself as he headed toward the training grounds.

In the distance, atop Hokage Rock, the First Hokage's statue quietly overlooked the village. And in the shadow beneath the statue's ear, a small white lump rested its cheek on its hand. Its beady eyes followed Qianyu's retreating figure, and its mouth curled into a gratified smile.

"Little dried fish has grown up," Abin muttered in a voice only he could hear. "He's starting to stir the waters himself. If old man Madara knew, would he scold you for meddling, or praise you for being interesting?"