Chapter 62: Same Beginning, Different Ending

"Uchiha Kin."

Hearing Gin's question, Fūka's mind conjured up the image of a warm, gentle man.That same curly hair, narrow phoenix eyes, always wearing a smiling expression — but the feeling he gave off was worlds apart from the man sitting in front of him now.

"I knew him," Fūka admitted without hesitation — there was no reason to hide it. Anyone familiar with Uchiha Kin already knew about Gin.

"What kind of person was he?"

Knowing almost nothing about his father, Gin couldn't help but ask.

"This isn't the place to talk. Come with me — we'll find somewhere quieter," Fūka sighed, suppressing the inexplicable irritation he felt around Gin as he invited him along.

Gin naturally didn't object, following Fūka into a tavern. The older man led him straight to a private booth, ordered a bottle of sake, and shut the door behind them.

The two of them sat cross-legged, silently sizing each other up.

Once the sake arrived, Fūka poured them each a cup and drank his in one go.

"You really do look just like him — especially that face. It's uncanny," Fūka finally said after the drink warmed his cheeks.

"You knew my father?"

From the way he spoke, it was clear their relationship wasn't just casual.

"Knew him? He was my captain — and half my teacher too," Fūka said, pouring himself another, his voice tinged with nostalgia."Big brother Kin… he was the greatest genius of his time, no contest. Awakened his Sharingan at eight, mastered three-tomoe at twelve, proficient in all five elements, skilled in fūinjutsu, took on high-difficulty missions solo, racked up countless feats in the war…"

Fūka rattled off Kin's accomplishments with pride and admiration — but then his face darkened."Such a shame…"

"A shame?"

Gin leaned forward, hanging on his every word.

"Such a shame he died young. If he hadn't, who knows if the clan head position would have gone to someone else."

Fūka shook his head, a trace of sorrow in his voice.

Wait… his dad was almost clan head material? Gin blinked. He'd heard Yaku brag about it in the dungeon, but thought it was just hot air. Apparently not.

"Could you tell me the details?"

Eager for the truth, Gin pressed.

Yaku had already given him one version of the story — he wanted to see how Fūka's account matched up.

Outside the booth, the tavern was full of laughter and clinking cups, but inside, Fūka's expression softened with rare wistfulness as he rubbed his thumb over his empty sake cup."I, your parents, and clan head Tajima were all in the same squad. Your father was our captain," he began.

He motioned for Gin to pour him another, and downed it in one gulp — clearly trying to drown some old pain.

"That mission should have been routine. Everything was prepared, no problems. Your father even stationed me as a sentry because I was the weakest. At first everything went smoothly — but at the last moment, something went wrong."

Fūka's voice grew low and heavy. When he said wrong, his grip on the cup tightened until his knuckles turned white, his usual calm utterly gone.

"There was a traitor. Someone leaked our route. We were ambushed by enemies several times our number. Three squads went on that mission — all wiped out. Your father fought with everything he had to get us out."

"You were there?"

Gin couldn't help but interject — this part matched what Yaku had told him.

"I was there. I watched your parents die. I'm sorry… I couldn't do a thing," Fūka admitted, his voice thick with emotion. His reddened eyes glistened as he continued,"I was a coward. When captain ordered me to leave, I… just left. After everything he'd done for me."

"Tell me everything," Gin urged."What happened at the end?"

"Your parents carried the unconscious clan head Tajima through hell to escape, but the enemy kept coming. I joined the fight but was useless — just another burden."

Fūka shut his eyes in anguish, his words sounding like they drained his soul.

"In the end, your father ordered me to take Tajima and run. He and your mother stayed behind to cover us."

"Tajima was unconscious the whole time?"

That didn't match what Yaku had said at all.

"Yes. He was badly injured, didn't wake up until days after returning."

"Did my parents… leave any last words?"

Gin held his breath, hoping to hear something — anything — from their final moments.

"No. Things were too urgent for that."

Fūka shook his head with regret.

"Thank you, Captain Fūka. For telling me so much about them."

Gin straightened and gave him a respectful bow.

"I don't deserve it. I watched them die and couldn't help. I should be apologizing to you," Fūka replied bitterly, kneeling down as though to kowtow.

"Captain, there's no need. My parents chose their path knowing it could cost their lives," Gin quickly said, catching him and helping him up.

Once his questions were answered, Gin excused himself, leaving Fūka alone with his sake.

On his way out, he faintly heard Fūka muttering drunkenly behind him:"…Why didn't you dodge that strike, big brother Kin…"

The unexpected encounter had left Gin with more answers — but even more confusion. Too distracted to bother with finding a carpenter, he just slung the strange mask over his shoulder and hugged his Isobu plush as he headed home.

The shop had already delivered and set up the table, chair, training dummies, and targets. The once-barren backyard now looked halfway respectable.

He patted the brand-new practice dummy with satisfaction. Now all that was missing was a proper fence. If only he knew Mokuton… ah, what a pity.

After tidying up the backyard, Gin was about to head inside when he paused, a mischievous grin curling his lips. Adjusting the strange mask on his face, he pushed the door open.

Inside, Itama was sitting on the couch, lost in thought, completely unaware of the figure sneaking up behind him.

Gin crept closer, placed a hand on his shoulder, and leaned in with his masked face.

Startled, Itama turned and found himself face-to-face with a terrifying, twisted mask.

"AAAAAHHH! A ghoooost—"

He barely managed a scream before his eyes rolled back and he fainted dead away, frothing at the mouth.

"Tch tch tch… this brat's courage is pathetic," Gin muttered, pulling off the mask with disappointment. He'd barely even started his act before the kid went limp.

"Hey, hey. Wake up."

He crouched and patted Itama's cheek, but got no response. A cold sweat broke out on Gin's back."C'mon now. Don't tell me you died of fright — don't leave me here to GG like this…"

(End of Chapter)

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