'I need to leave this clan faster.'
The roar of the crowd faded to a dull hum in Renjiro's ears as the full weight of the revelation pressed down on him. Nakada sat beside Miwa, her expression politely curious, utterly unaware of the existential crisis she had just triggered. Renjiro stared straight ahead at the arena, where young Uchiha Akari was executing a flawless fireball technique.
Nakada tilted her head, her dark eyes studying his frozen profile with genuine confusion. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Renjiro. Is something wrong?"
Miwa's smile widened into something that could only be described as triumphant. She opened her mouth before Renjiro could formulate a response.
"Oh, he just found out that Akari-chan is his niece." She said it casually, as if discussing the weather. "Well, technically. Your mother's-aunt's-cousin's-younger-granddaughter. You know how clan genealogy gets."
Renjiro's eye twitched as he thought, 'She knows that's not the issue. I'll never think of her as my aunt.'
"That is not a niece." Renjiro's voice was flat, controlled, the voice of a man grasping at logical straws. "That is a footnote. If you need parchment and ink to trace it, it doesn't count."
Miwa raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what's your definition of family, then?"
"Direct aunts. Uncles. First cousins." Renjiro counted them off on his fingers. "People you actually know are related to you without consulting a clan registry."
"In a clan," Miwa said, her tone carrying the weight of absolute authority, "if blood connection exists and generation aligns, they're cousins. That's how it works."
Nakada nodded calmly beside her, adding her quiet support. "Miwa-san is right. In Uchiha tradition, distant relatives are still relatives. If the connection is unclear, we default to cousin."
Renjiro turned to stare at her. "So confusion equals family?"
"Essentially, yes." Nakada's expression was perfectly serene, as if she hadn't just demolished his entire argument with two sentences.
Seating shifted. Nakada settled beside Miwa, placing the older woman between herself and Renjiro. The positioning felt deliberate—a buffer, perhaps, or simply the natural movement of people finding comfort.
Renjiro wasn't done.
"Is Fugaku really your cousin?" he asked Miwa, his voice carrying the edge of a man searching for loopholes. "Or is he 'cousin' under clan rules?"
"We're from the same generation," Miwa replied with infuriating calm. "That makes him my cousin."
Renjiro seized on a new angle. He turned to Nakada, studying her features—the slight youthfulness that placed her barely older than himself. "She's barely older than me. How does that make her my aunt?"
Miwa's response was a masterpiece of logical construction, "Fugaku is my cousin. Nakada is Fugaku's sister. You are my nephew."** She paused, letting the chain of reasoning settle. "Therefore, Nakada is your aunt. It's simple genealogy."
Renjiro stared at her.
'This is weaponised genealogy,' he thought.
He opened his mouth to argue further, then closed it. What was the point? The clan had centuries of tradition backing their definition. He had logic and a slowly crumbling sense of identity.
He sighed. The sound carried the weight of a man surrendering to forces beyond his control.
"Fine."
Miwa's smile was radiant.
Below them, Uchiha Akari continued her match. The young kunoichi moved with practised precision, her fireball technique clean and controlled—a perfect sphere of flame that forced her opponent to retreat. Shuriken followed in rapid succession, forcing the civilian boy to dodge rather than counter.
For a moment, Renjiro allowed himself to simply watch the match.
Nakada offered surface-level praise. "Good timing. She's improved her stance since last month."
Renjiro's assessment was more clinical. "Chakra inefficiency on the third seal. She's overcommitting on the second feint—her shoulder drops before she throws, telegraphing the angle. Predictable follow-up."
Nakada glanced at him, something flickering in her eyes—surprise, perhaps, or reassessment.
Miwa stood abruptly.
"I'm going to get something to eat." She didn't wait for a response, simply turned and disappeared into the crowd with a speed that suggested deliberate intention.
Renjiro watched her go, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach. 'She planned this. She absolutely planned this.'
The crowd noise continued around them—cheers, groans, the constant murmur of hundreds of conversations. The arena below hosted a new match, two genin he didn't recognise, exchanging clumsy taijutsu.
The silence between him and Nakada stretched.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Renjiro stared straight ahead, his posture rigid. Nakada glanced sideways at him, then away. Then back.
The silence was awkward. Not hostile—just the particular discomfort of two people who barely knew each other, thrown together by clan politics and an aunt with a cruel sense of humour.
Finally, Nakada chuckled.
It was a soft sound, light, unexpected. "Are you over the fact that I'm your aunt yet?"
Renjiro blinked. Turned to look at her. She was smiling—not the polite, formal smile he remembered from their previous meetings in Fugaku's office, but something more genuine. More relaxed.
'She wasn't like this before,' he thought.
In those earlier encounters, she had been sharper. More aggressive. The engagement discussions had brought out something defensive in her, a wariness that matched his own discomfort. Here, away from clan politics, surrounded by the noise of the exams, she seemed… human.
"It doesn't bother me," he said finally. "What bothers me is Miwa using that information specifically to ambush me with it."
Nakada's laugh was louder this time, genuine amusement warming her features. "She does seem the type."
"You have no idea."
The announcer's voice cut through the stadium, amplified by a subtle wind technique.
"Next match! Uchiha Shisui versus Inuzuka Raiga!"
Renjiro's reaction was immediate. His head snapped toward the arena, his eyes narrowing.
Shisui. The name was familiar—not only from this life's experiences with the young boy's father, but from the deeper well of knowledge he carried. Shisui Uchiha. The master of the Body Flicker. The wielder of Kotoamatsukami. The ghost who would haunt Itachi's story long after his death.
Beside him, Nakada's face lit up.
"Ah, Shisui-kun's match." There was pride in her voice, the warmth of someone watching a promising younger relative.
"This should be good."
Renjiro forced his expression neutral, burying the cascade of implications beneath his usual mask.
"Is he another one of your cousins?" The words came out drier than intended.
"Or nephew? I'm still figuring out the clan math."
Nakada ignored the tease, her eyes fixed on the arena where a young boy was taking his position. Dark hair, dark eyes, the Uchiha features stamped clearly on his face. But there was something else in his posture, a readiness, a stillness that spoke of training beyond his years.
"Shisui is a prodigy," Nakada said quietly. "The clan has high hopes for him." She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice carried a weight that made Renjiro's attention sharpen.
"Some are even calling him the next Renjiro."
=====
Bless me with your powerful Power Stones.
Your Reviews and Comments about my work are welcome
If you can, then please support me on Patreon.
Link - www.patreon.com/SideCharacter
You Can read more chapters ahead on Patreon
Latest Chapter: 782- Village Barrier