Saitama took the initiative to collect the bowls and chopsticks, then helped Granny Kaka pick out the fish from the pot. The two sat at the table and began their dinner.
It was nearly six o’clock by then. By the time they finished eating, night had completely fallen.
"Granny, I have something to take care of tonight. You should get some rest early," Saitama said, gently placing a hand on her shoulder and guiding her toward the bedroom.
"Alright, go on. This old woman doesn’t need babysitting," Uchiha Kaka chuckled, the wrinkles on her face deepening with the motion. She looked old, but her eyes were bright—clear and undimmed by time.
Saitama smiled and walked out. Just outside, he saw Kaka still standing near the door, watching him silently. She gave him a small wave before turning back inside.
With a sigh, Uchiha Kaka closed the door behind him. She walked to the other side of the room, turned on the television, and lay on the bed, watching quietly.
About half an hour later, Saitama arrived at the Uchiha compound and headed toward Uchiha Fugaku’s home. In the yard, a young Itachi was training with shuriken, repeatedly striking a wooden target under the light.
"Oh, Itachi!" Saitama called as he stepped in, not bothering to close the gate behind him.
"Brother Saitama!" Itachi’s eyes lit up. He stopped his training and jogged over excitedly.
Saitama smiled. He enjoyed the way Itachi treated him—earnest, warm, and respectful. He reached out and ruffled Itachi’s hair. The boy didn’t resist but leaned into it, enjoying the rare moment of closeness.
Though Saitama was only five years older, his maturity made the age gap feel much larger.
"Is your father home?" Saitama asked as Itachi guided him deeper into the house, clinging to his side like a little brother.
"He’s inside. I’ll go get him," Itachi said, dashing off with quick steps.
"Saitama’s here!" Uchiha Mikoto appeared from one of the rooms, carrying a basket. She smiled warmly at the guest.
"Good evening, Aunt Mikoto. I’m here to see the Captain," Saitama replied politely.
"Alright, I won’t disturb you two. Go ahead." Mikoto nodded and continued on her way.
"Brother Saitama, Father said you can go in," Itachi called, returning to take Saitama’s hand and lead him inside.
Uchiha Fugaku sat at his desk, flipping through documents and occasionally jotting notes with a pen.
"Come in, Saitama," he said, putting aside his file and removing a pair of glasses from his face.
"Captain... glasses?" Saitama asked with a raised brow.
"My eyes get tired," Fugaku replied casually, placing them on the desk.
"Ah, makes sense." Saitama nodded. Excessive use of the Sharingan, especially the Mangekyō, could strain one’s vision—but Fugaku hadn’t awakened that form, as far as Saitama knew.
"Itachi, go back outside and continue your training. I need to speak with your brother Saitama," Fugaku instructed.
"Okay..." Itachi responded, clearly reluctant but obediently headed back out.
"Sit," Fugaku gestured to the chair across from him.
"So, why are you here tonight?" he asked.
"There’s a clan meeting tonight, right? I figured I’d come with you," Saitama said, settling into the seat naturally.
"Ah. Feeling nervous about your first one?" Fugaku teased lightly.
"A little," Saitama admitted.
"Don’t worry too much. It’ll mostly be the four elders, Koshi Nobu, and some clan administrators."
"Elders?" Saitama blinked. This was the first time he’d heard about them.
"Yes. The Uchiha Clan has four elders—retired but respected veterans who guide internal matters." Fugaku explained patiently.
"I see." Saitama gave a slight nod, his expression calm.
"The Uchiha have nearly forty jōnin—yourself included. As one of the most powerful clans, we manage a wide array of enterprises to sustain our prosperity. Those who lack talent as shinobi often transition to managing the clan’s industries."
Fugaku spoke with a touch of pride. "Our clan has business holdings throughout Konoha and the Land of Fire."
Saitama listened carefully. Just as he expected, the Uchiha Clan was more than a military powerhouse—they were a political and economic force.
"Tonight’s meeting is routine. Just observe and learn." Fugaku folded his hands.
"It’s about time. Let’s go." He glanced at the clock on the wall, then stood and changed into more formal attire—his jōnin uniform and clan robes.
---
"Patriarch!"
"Patriarch!"
As they arrived at the Uchiha Clan’s ancestral shrine, Saitama walked a step behind Fugaku, catching the curious gazes of the crowd. The place was already packed with clan members—jōnin, chūnin, and those involved in clan affairs.
Some didn’t recognize Saitama, but it only took a few murmurs for word to spread. Anyone with half a brain could tell he had the patriarch’s favor.
"Welcome back," said a middle-aged Uchiha as Fugaku entered.
Fugaku nodded calmly. "Yes, I’ve returned."
The elder bowed respectfully. Though young, Fugaku commanded deep respect within the clan.
As they walked deeper into the hall, the shinobi they passed became increasingly powerful. When they reached the innermost chamber, the crowd consisted entirely of elite jōnin and high-ranking advisors.
Saitama recognized only a few faces. He soon broke off from Fugaku’s side, choosing to quietly observe from the sidelines.
As he scanned the crowd, looking for familiar faces, a booming voice startled him.
"You’re Uchiha Saitama?"
"Huh? Yeah." Saitama turned to see a tall, burly man with broad shoulders and bulging muscles—a rare physique among the Uchiha, who were typically lean and wiry.
"Nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Uchiha Zou!" the man said, clapping a massive hand on Saitama’s shoulder.
Saitama, now about 160cm tall, had to look up. Zou stood over two meters, a physical outlier even among shinobi. It was hard to believe someone with that build belonged to the Uchiha bloodline.
"Hello." Saitama smiled politely and casually removed the man’s hand from his shoulder.
"Haha, sorry about that," Zou laughed sheepishly. "Didn’t mean to be overbearing."
"I heard what you did on the Sand battlefield. Impressive stuff!"
"It was just a survival instinct in a tough spot," Saitama replied humbly, realizing that Zou meant no harm.
"I just got back from a long-term mission last month. I’ll be heading out again soon. Sounds like the clan has plans for more deployment," Zou said.
"You’re going south?" Saitama asked, raising an eyebrow. The southern front was brutal—casualties were high.
"Yeah. Someone’s gotta hold the line."
Saitama nodded in quiet respect.
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