The greater the happiness, the greater the pain

Chapter 241 The greater the happiness, the greater the pain

When Sasuke opened the door, the lights in the entryway were already on.

Mikoto was busy in the kitchen, the sizzling sound of the oil pan and the aroma of miso soup wafting from the end of the corridor, filling the entire house.

He took off his shoes, put his backpack on the steps in the entryway, and called out towards the kitchen, "I'm home."

"You're back?" Mikoto's voice came from the kitchen. "How was your first day?"

"It's alright." Sasuke walked into the kitchen and leaned against the door frame.

Mikoto was using long chopsticks to turn the fried shrimp in the pot, the batter puffing up into small golden bubbles in the oil.

She turned her head and glanced at him, her gaze sweeping from his face to his collar, and then to his knees.

This is her usual check-up procedure: to see if he got into a fight at school or fell and scraped his skin.

"My clothes aren't dirty," she said, a hint of surprise in her voice. "Does that mean I didn't have physical education class today?"

"It's on."

"Then how come you're so clean?"

Sasuke thought for a moment and said, "I can dodge quickly."

Mikoto smiled softly. She picked up a freshly fried shrimp with her chopsticks, blew on it twice, and held it to Sasuke's lips.

Sasuke opened his mouth and bit down, the batter tearing between his teeth. The scalding shrimp meat made him gasp, but he couldn't bear to spit it out.

He chewed and mumbled "delicious" as he spoke. Mikoto reached out and pressed down on the tuft of hair that was still sticking out at the back of his head, in the same spot Itachi had pressed that morning.

Her hair bounced up, and the corners of her mouth curved slightly.

"Go wash your hands. Dinner will be served when your father comes back."

Sasuke responded and turned to walk towards the bathroom. He stopped in his tracks as he passed the living room.

On a low table in the corner of the living room sat a short knife with a dark blue scabbard bearing the Uchiha clan crest.

That was Itachi's spare shuriken sheath, which he usually kept in the Anbu's equipment cabinet and rarely brought home.

Sasuke walked over, squatted down, and reached out to touch the raised clan crest patterns on the scabbard.

As his fingertips touched the cool lacquered surface, the image of Itachi standing at the school gate that morning flashed through his mind.

With a stern face and a high-necked shirt that concealed the clan crest, he turned and walked into the alley without looking back.

The scabbard being here indicates that Itachi went home. But Mikoto didn't mention it.

He stood up, went to the bathroom to wash his hands, and then returned to the kitchen to help Mikoto set the table.

There were four sets of bowls and chopsticks on the table, but Sasuke knew that one of them would most likely not be needed tonight.

As Fugaku spent more and more time at the police department, Mikoto would often wrap a separate portion of his dinner in plastic wrap and place it on the stove for him to heat up when he returned in the middle of the night.

Itachi's ANBU missions had no fixed schedule; sometimes he wouldn't return for three days, and sometimes he would return in the middle of the night and leave again at dawn.

Four sets of bowls and chopsticks are just a habit, a habit that has been maintained for a long time and that no one wants to break.

The door lock clicked once.

Fugaku pushed open the door and came in, his expression exactly the same as when he stood at the entrance of the police station.

He was upright and serious, with a shallow vertical line between his eyebrows.

He changed his shoes quickly and efficiently, bending down to pull off the heels, one for each shoe, in no more than two seconds.

Sasuke poked his head out of the kitchen and called out "Father." Fugaku nodded, his gaze lingering on Sasuke for a moment before shifting away.

dinner's ready.

Itachi's seat was indeed empty.

Fugaku, seated at the head of the table, ate a few bites before asking Sasuke, "Which class did you get assigned to?"

"Class 1-A," Sasuke said.

"head teacher?"

"Umino Iruka."

Fugaku did not react to the name, clearly indicating it was not on his list of contacts.

He took another bite of food and asked, "When does the shuriken class start?" Sasuke replied, "Next week."

Fugaku said "Hmm," and then didn't ask any more questions.

Sasuke knew what that "hmm" meant: "I'll be seeing your grades next week."

In the Uchiha clan, excellent grades aren't something to be praised; they're the default setting. Explanation is only needed if you can't achieve them.

Sasuke lowered his head and ate his rice. The batter for the fried shrimp had softened a bit, but the flavor was still there.

He picked up the rice ball next to the rice ball pattern and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing it very quickly.

After dinner, Mikoto washed the dishes in the kitchen. Sasuke returned to his room and took out his textbooks one by one from his backpack, placing them on the table.

Ninja Code, Chakra Basics, Land of Fire Geography, Introduction to Shurikenjutsu.

He opened the beginner's guide to shurikenjutsu. The first page was a structural diagram of a standard cross-shaped shuriken, with the names of each part labeled: blade, grip, and center hole.

He took a pencil out of the side pocket of his backpack, drew a small circle next to the center hole, wrote the word "Note", and then, not knowing what to add, left it blank.

The faint sound of the Nanga River flowing outside the window could be heard, louder than during the day.

The deeper the night, the clearer the sound of the river became. Sasuke leaned on the table and flipped through a few pages, discovering that the first twenty pages of the introductory manual on shurikenjutsu were all safety guidelines, almost identical to what Master Yamashiro had taught in class.

He skipped those and turned to page twenty-one, where he finally saw the breakdown diagram of the throwing posture.

He stood the book upright and tried to adjust the angle of his wrist according to the posture in the picture. He twisted it back and forth a few times, but he still felt that his wrist was not flexible enough.

There was a knock on the door, then it was pushed open. Mikoto came in carrying a cup of hot milk, placed it on the corner of the table, glanced at his open book, and said, "You've already previewed over twenty pages on the first day?"

"That was all nonsense," Sasuke said.

"Safety regulations are not just empty words." Mikoto's tone was gentle, but her words were enunciated clearly. "Your brother is in his third year in the Dark Division, and he still needs to review the safety regulations before going on a mission."

"The rule in the Anbu is that anyone who violates the safety regulations has to write a self-criticism. Itachi wrote one once; didn't he tell you himself?"

Sasuke looked up, his eyes widening slightly. The fact that Itachi had written a self-criticism shocked him more than everything he'd heard at school that day combined.

Itachi's image in his mind had always been perfect, so perfect that even Fugaku couldn't find fault with him. Itachi had even written a self-criticism.

"Why?" Sasuke couldn't help but ask.

"Because he thought the safety regulations were too long, he was lazy and didn't read them all. As a result, he almost stepped on an explosive tag during the mission, and his partner pulled him back."

Mikoto reached out and ruffled Sasuke's hair, this time ruffling it harder than usual, as if to emphasize something.

"So, read the safety guidelines. You don't want your brother to worry, right?"

Sasuke paused for two seconds, then flipped back to the first page of the introductory book on shurikenjutsu.

Mikoto smiled, turned and left the room, closing the door behind her, leaving only a crack. The cup of hot milk slowly cooled on the corner of the table.

Sasuke read through the safety regulations from beginning to end. Then he read them again.

The pencil added a line of small print after the word "Note" next to the center hole: "Safe distance three meters." The handwriting was crooked, but every stroke was written with great force.

He only remembered to drink the milk after it had cooled down, and gulped down half a cup in one go, leaving a ring of white milk stains around the corner of his mouth.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand, closed the book, turned off the light, and climbed into bed. The blankets smelled of being aired out in the sun that day; they were dry and warm.

He stared at the ceiling, the wood grain in the darkness gradually changing from a blurry outline to an completely invisible black. Then he closed his eyes.

The last image that came to mind was Itachi's back as he turned and walked into the alley.

The dark turtleneck sweater weaved through the crowd, dodging a vendor pushing a cart, skirting two laughing women, before turning into an alley and disappearing into the shadows of a corner.

His movements were fluid and natural, as if he were walking a path that only he could see.

Sasuke wondered when he could walk a path like that.

Itachi said, "About three days." Those words floated gently into his mind, then gently faded away.

He rolled over and buried his face in the pillow. He wasn't in a hurry. He had already waited so long; waiting another three days was nothing.

Three days later, he was to stand in front of Itachi, recite the entire safety guidelines for beginners in shurikenjutsu from beginning to end, and then say: I've read it all, can we begin now?

The mission by the secret service ended on the evening of the third day.

Itachi handed in the mission scroll in the Hokage's office, listened to the Third Hokage briefly explain the time of the next meeting, and then left through the window.

He didn't go through the main gate. Going through the main gate would mean encountering too many people. His seniors from the Dark Guard would try to get him to go drinking, and his clansmen from the Police Department would ask him why he wasn't showing up in the clan's territory again. He didn't want to deal with any of that.

He walked along the shadow of the roof for a while and stopped on a cedar tree upstream of the Namka River.

The tree canopy is very tall; standing on the thickest horizontal branch, you can see most of the Uchiha clan's territory, as well as the gentle slope that extends along the riverbank on the outskirts of the clan's territory.

The sun was setting, turning the river a slowly flowing bronze color. Smoke from a few houses rose straight up in the still air, its color tinged red by the setting sun.

He saw Sasuke.

Sasuke was squatting on the stone steps by the Naka River, with several flat pebbles spread out at his feet. He was holding one in his hand and was slicing it diagonally across the river.

The stone bounced three times on the water's surface and sank. He picked up another, adjusted his wrist angle, and chopped again. This time, four strokes.

Is he alone?

The weasel stood on the cedar branch, watching this scene without moving.

Sasuke picked up another stone from beside his feet, but this time he didn't rush to throw it.

Instead, he bent down to look for something on the stone steps, then pulled a blade of grass from a crack in the stone, tied it to a stone, and threw it away.

The stone, carrying the grass stem, tumbled through the air a few times before crashing into the river, splashing up a small spray. The grass stem floated to the surface and was swept away by the current.

Sasuke watched the blade of grass drift away, then stood up, dusted off his knees, and walked toward home.

He walked slowly, paused briefly as he passed the wooden bridge, held onto the railing, glanced upstream, and then continued on.

Itachi stood in the treetops, watching him walk into the alley of the clan compound. The Uchiha clan crest glowed a dark red in the setting sun.

This is Sasuke's third day after school.

Although the ninja academy hadn't officially started practical training in the first week, he had already read through the basic safety guidelines for shurikenjutsu twice.

Itachi didn't know this, but he could guess something from the subtle movements of Sasuke's wrists unconsciously adjusting their angles when he walked.

Sasuke has been like this since he was a child. When he wants to learn something, he will unconsciously make hand gestures, and he even practices walking.

The weasel leaned against the tree trunk and closed its eyes.

Three days ago, on the morning he took Sasuke to school, he stood at the school gate, surrounded by the whispers of a group of upperclassmen.

He didn't care about those things, but he noticed that Sasuke took a half step closer to him and then stepped back.

The movement was subtle, invisible to ordinary people, but he saw it. Sasuke wanted to get closer to him, but was afraid of being seen.

A six-year-old child has already learned to hide his dependence in front of others. This is an instinct of the Uchiha clan, not something taught by anyone.

He lightly tapped Sasuke on the forehead. Sasuke frowned.

He knew Sasuke didn't like this gesture; it was too perfunctory, too much like an adult making excuses to a child. But he did it anyway.

It wasn't just an excuse; it was because he wasn't sure if he would be able to return in three days.

As the Anbu's missions became increasingly dangerous, Danzo began to show a clear interest in the movements of the Uchiha clan.

He was caught in the middle, walking a tightrope that was getting thinner and thinner every day.

Which side are you on?

This question came from all directions. From the mission briefings of the Dark Division, from Danzo's meaningful silence, from Fugaku's occasional expectant glances at him at the dinner table.

His father never asked him directly, but the question always lingered in the air, appearing every time the father and son looked at each other.

Fugaku wanted him to be on the Uchiha side, not just in the ordinary sense of supporting the clan, but in a more fundamental way, a kind of alignment unique to the Uchiha clan that was opposed to the village.

But he couldn't do it.

His friend was a Jonin (high-ranking ninja) in the village, and the villagers he protected were separated from the Uchiha clan's territory only by the Naka River.

But in the mouths of those clan elders, this river seemed to be an insurmountable chasm, with their own people on this side and outsiders on the other.

He couldn't cross that threshold, nor was he willing to. He believed in Konoha, and he believed in the Uchiha clan. He believed there should be some way for the two to coexist.

But no one could tell him whether such coexistence could still be achieved after the Nine-Tails incident and after the Uchiha were relocated to the edge of the village.

The longer he stayed in the shadows, the clearer he saw one thing.

The village's trust in the Uchiha clan had eroded to a breaking point. Every time Danzo mentioned the "issue of the police department's authority," it was like filing down a taut string.

Each time Fugaku remained silent, it was as if he was tightening the string one turn tighter. And if that string snapped, the shattered fragments would smash into Sasuke.

Itachi opened his eyes and looked out through the gaps in the tree canopy at the Uchiha clan's territory.

The setting sun had sunk behind the Hokage Rock, and the last few rays of light tinged the silhouettes of the four Hokage with a dark gold hue.

Looking from the opposite bank of the river, Itachi suddenly noticed that Sasuke was walking on the Uchiha clan's land, forming a subtle angle with the riverbank in his field of vision.

The water reflects the sky, as if a boundary that will never dry up lies between the clan's territory and the village.

He suddenly remembered what Shisui had said, which he hadn't fully understood at the time.

Standing on a cedar tree upstream of the Naka River, watching Sasuke push open the door and disappear into the light in the entryway, he suddenly understood.

Shisui's words were never just directed at Itachi; he was talking about himself.

He said he had to believe that Itachi could make the right choice and that the Itachi he was trying to protect could find his own path between the two.