Konoha.
The Uchiha District.
Kanon stepped out of the Flower Realm. As her feet touched the ground of the Uchiha compound, a thin layer of dust kicked up, a silent testament to how many years this place had gone neglected.
In the old days, the Uchiha clan's residences lined these streets. As a child, Kanon had spent her days running back and forth along these paths. Back then, the layered eaves would shimmer through the morning mist like a hidden paradise. At the heart of the district stood the towering ancestral shrine, its walls carved with exquisite totems that whispered of the clan's glory and its secrets. The clansmen would gather there to discuss affairs and uphold the stability of Konoha.
Now, those once-bustling streets lay derelict. Thick moss choked the stone slabs, and the clamor of the past had been replaced by a hollow silence. Doors and windows were broken and rotting, surrendered to the erosion of wind and rain. The splendor was gone, leaving only mottled walls to testify to the former honor of the Uchiha.
The shrine doors were tightly shut. The two stone lions standing guard remained as imposing as ever, but they were now strangled by vines, looking forlorn. The torches of the past had long since burnt out; the light that once guided the Uchiha path could now only be found in memory.
Behind the district lay a dense bamboo forest. When the wind blew, the leaves rustled with a sandy hiss, as if murmuring the secrets of yesteryear. The forest paths were overgrown with weeds, with only the occasional small animal scurrying through the forgotten territory.
Following the winding forest path, Kanon arrived at the cliffside where she and Naruto used to sit. To her surprise, the weeds there looked recently trimmed.
"Has that idiot been here?" Kanon shook her head helplessly.
At the base of the cliff, she placed a shuriken engraved with her name and pinned it into the earth with a kunai.
Kanon returned to the vicinity of her old home. The spots where she used to greet the local elders were now nothing but broken walls and debris, ruthlessly reclaimed by vines and wild grass. Finally, she stood before her own house. She looked at the door, now caked in grime and dust. The stone lions at the entrance were covered in lichen, their former majesty lost to a silent, mournful vigil for the clan's fate.
With a soft sigh, Kanon retrieved a key hidden within her Flower Realm. She looked at the rusted gate. As expected, the lock had been changed by Konoha officials. She couldn't open it. It was a bitter irony: the master of the house was now locked out of her own home.
Taking a deep breath, she used her abilities to phase through the door. Stepping into the foyer, she was hit by a gust of stale, cold air. Light filtered through the broken roof in dappled patches across the floor.
"Kanon-chan, you're back? Remember to gargle first."
The voice of Mikoto Uchiha seemed to echo in her mind. Kanon flinched and looked up, only to be swallowed by a sense of emptiness. No one was there. Every piece of furniture in the foyer was gone, likely confiscated by the village. The floor was buried under a thick, blurring coat of dust.
Standing in this foyer, once so full of life, now so silent it didn't even hold a chair, Kanon felt an unspeakable desolation. This was her home. This was her birthplace. This was everything she had once fought to protect. Now, only memories and sorrow remained, slowly fading away in this corner forgotten by time.
She walked through to the courtyard. The surrounding walls had collapsed, and those left standing were spiderwebbed with cracks. The garden was a graveyard of withered leaves and broken branches; the flowers once so carefully tended were now nothing but skeletal outlines.
Kanon's gaze drifted over the ruins, every piece of rubble pricking a deep-seated pain in her heart. It only served to harden her resolve for revenge. Facing the bastard who murdered her parents, to forget that hatred would be an unforgivable sin.
Unbidden, tears began to track down her face. Her Mangekyō Sharingan activated instinctively. Faced with the hollow shell of her home, a piercing ache left her weak, and she slumped powerlessly to the ground.
Longing and memory flooded her. The silent air felt as though time itself had frozen. She closed her eyes, her heart surging with endless yearning for her deceased parents. In her mind's eye, her father Fugaku's stern yet warm face appeared. His deep eyes seemed to watch over her still, filled with expectation and a lingering reluctance to leave. Her mother Mikoto's smile was gentle and distant; her voice echoed in Kanon's ears, yet she could no longer touch the physical world.
Kanon's heart was heavy with agony and guilt. Her hand instinctively covered her Sharingan, the most precious legacy her parents had left her.
"Papa... Mama... Uchiha Clan... I will achieve true vengeance. I will personally send that madman who slaughtered our people down to face your judgment!"
…
After staying for another hour, Kanon finally left the Uchiha district. Naturally, she didn't wear her Akatsuki cloak into the village proper. Even so, her delicate features and youthful frame drew many a second glance from the Konoha villagers.
She walked the streets, using this return to fuel the fires of her hatred. Right now, she needed to let this resentment settle and solidify. Passersby didn't pay her much mind, beyond admiring a pretty girl.
Eventually, Kanon arrived at Ichiraku Ramen.
"Hm... the last time I ate here was over a year ago," Kanon murmured as she stepped inside.
Recognizing the familiar face, Teuchi and his daughter Ayame stared at her in shock.
"Ayame-nee, did you forget me? Well, it doesn't matter. I'll take a Miso Chashu pork ramen." Kanon offered a small smile and placed the money on the counter.
"Please leave. I don't sell ramen to rogue ninja," Teuchi said coldly.
Kanon froze, looking at Teuchi and Ayame in surprise. Ayame's expression was conflicted, but she didn't move.
"I'm going to report her to the village," Teuchi started to move, but Ayame stopped him.
"Dad, don't be impulsive."
Kanon sighed. Seeing the once-jovial Old Man Teuchi and Sister Ayame treat her this way was a bitter pill. She shook her head and prepared to leave, but just then, a figure walked in. He had shock-white hair and a head protector with the kanji for "Oil."
"Since you're here, why leave so soon?" Jiraiya sat down right next to Kanon.
"It's nothing. I'm unwelcome here. It's the same everywhere I go," Kanon said flatly.
"Pops, two bowls of ramen," Jiraiya said to Teuchi.
"I'm not selling to a rogue," Teuchi grunted, turning away in irritation.
"Then just bring one. I'll eat it."
Kanon was confused. What was Jiraiya playing at?
Outside the shop, besides Tsunade, there are no other shinobi monitoring me. What is the goal here?
"Hahaha, let's wait for the noodles first."
"I can't even eat, so I'm just supposed to watch you?" Kanon stood to leave, but Jiraiya pointed to the far corner, a blind spot in Old Man Teuchi's field of vision.
"What?"
"Sit over there."
Kanon didn't argue and moved to the corner with Jiraiya. Soon, Ayame placed a bowl in front of Jiraiya. She gave Kanon a complicated look before retreating. Jiraiya slid the bowl in front of Kanon with a light chuckle.
"Eat."
Kanon stared at him, bewildered. "Why are you giving this to me? Aren't you hungry?"
"Don't worry about that. Just eat."
Kanon looked at the bowl, loaded with toppings just like when she was a kid. She was about to pick up the chopsticks when her hand was suddenly swatted. Teuchi had leaned over and tapped her hand with a pair of chopsticks, looking displeased.
"You are not allowed to eat my ramen."
Kanon gave a helpless smile, glancing at an embarrassed Jiraiya.
"Fine, fine. I won't eat it." Kanon left the money for the bowl on the counter, pulled back the curtain, and prepared to leave.
Jiraiya followed her out and caught her hand. "We haven't seen each other in a long time, student and master. Even if we can't do ramen, we can have something else."
"Don't use food as an excuse to drag me off to peep on the women's bath," Kanon rolled her eyes.
"I wouldn't! Just wait a second."
A minute later, Jiraiya returned with a twin-stick popsicle. He snapped it in half and handed one part to Kanon.
"For me?"
"Take it." Jiraiya sat down on a bench with her. "Do you have a purpose for returning to Konoha this time?"
"No. I just came to see my home," Kanon replied truthfully.
"The Akatsuki didn't send you on a secret mission?"
"No. Pervy Sage, you won't dig up any useful intel from me, so just give it up."
"Then why come home? If you miss the village, you can always come back." Jiraiya smiled and reached out, but Kanon patted his hand away.
"How can a place without family be a home? I really just came back to look around."
"Is that truly all?" Jiraiya looked at her, searching for any sign of deception.
"That's all," Kanon shook her head. She wouldn't tell him about her impending death-match with Itachi Uchiha. There was no point.
Finishing the popsicle, Kanon turned to her "cheap" master and gave him a genuine smile.
"Pervy Sage... I'm deeply grateful. Thank you for everything you taught me."
As the words left her lips, she was sucked into a rose-colored vortex and vanished. Jiraiya stood there, blinking in confusion.
"What was with the sudden formality?"
Tsunade stepped out from behind a nearby wall. "I take it you didn't get any intel on the Akatsuki?"
"Jiraiya, do you really believe she just came back to see her house?"
Jiraiya nodded slowly. "Her expression didn't look like a lie. She came to Konoha, didn't kill anyone, and didn't even look like she wanted to fight. Maybe that's all it was."
"Anyway, Tsunade, let's head back to the Hokage's office. I have some actual intel to share with you."
"Fine. Let's go."
After they departed, the rose vortex slowly expanded, and Kanon reappeared. She sat back down in the same spot, watching the sun dip toward the three o'clock position.
"Sigh," she whispered. "I guess I'm unwelcome everywhere now. Poor Kanon Uchiha."