CHAPTER XX

I strolled leisurely through the bustling streets of Konoha, savoring the pleasant weather bestowed upon us today.

The golden sun gently bathed the village, casting a warm glow upon the winding roads, while a gentle breeze whispered through the air, adding a touch of tranquility to the atmosphere. It was the perfect day for my task at hand—deliveries entrusted to me by Magoroku-ojii-san.

Since Izuna had opted to spend time with her father, I left Naruto under Magoroku-ojii-san's watchful eye. The mischievous girl had extracted a promise from me to play with her at a later date.

As I carried out my deliveries, the tasks remained relatively straightforward. My primary duty involved delivering a set of important letters to various clients, ensuring their safe delivery and timely communication.

Additionally, there were instances when I had to transport raw materials and exquisite artisan goods back to the warehouse nestled behind Magoroku-ojii-san's store.

Magoroku-ojii-san had successfully expanded his business beyond the realm of selling rare and exquisite crafted items from distant lands.

Now, he ventured into the circulation of essential resources vital for the maintenance and sustenance of Konoha. These resources encompassed a diverse range, including food supplies, raw ores, and various building materials required for the village's growth and development.

It seemed that Magoroku-ojii-san's business had experienced a significant boost following the catastrophic attack by the Nine-Tails.

The previous merchant clique, which had dominated the market, suffered substantial damage, creating a void that opportunistic individuals like him could seize upon.

In my opinion, Magoroku-ojii-san's success was well-deserved. Though the Nine-Tails attack brought immense sorrow to the grief-stricken villagers, it is an unfortunate truth that disasters can sometimes present unexpected opportunities for those willing to seize them.

Every cloud has a silver lining, after all.

On the other side, thanks to my progress in fuuinjutsu, I had honed my skills in using storage scrolls, making the task of carrying the goods considerably more manageable.

Nonetheless, I had brought along a satchel filled with seal crafting supplies, just in case I required additional scrolls.

In retrospect, perhaps it would have been wiser not to disclose this newfound ability, as Magoroku-ojii-san had become overly enthused by the prospect.

Storage scrolls were a rarity for civilians, and the trade of seals was heavily regulated by the village, requiring explicit permission and adherence to strict regulations.

As an academy student, though still technically a civilian, I bore the responsibility of serving as a reserve force in times of emergency.

Consequently, I was granted the privilege to carry scrolls and weapons, akin to any duly commissioned ninja.

I owed Magoroku-ojii-san a debt of gratitude for his generosity, and thus, I had no room for complaints.

With a sense of determination, I unfolded the piece of paper, meticulously examining the checklist that would guide my next move.

Each destination held its own significance, and this one in particular brought a mix of emotions within me.

While the task itself was familiar, presenting the paper and having the other party comply with its contents, the destination this time was different.

It was a place I didn't often visit, not because I felt unwelcome, but rather due to the weight of expectations and the notorious reputation surrounding the clan that resided there—the Uchiha clan.

Their compound held a certain aura, a palpable tension that I couldn't ignore.

Deep down, I tried to remind myself that they were good people. Many of my friends, such as Itachi, Shisui, and Haguro, hailed from the Uchiha clan. Mikoto, too, had always been kind and accommodating during my previous visits.

Despite knowing this, anxiety still gnawed at my thoughts, threatening to spiral into something worse. It was an unfortunate burden that I had to bear.

But I couldn't allow myself to be consumed by these emotions.

With a firm resolve, I steeled myself and began to make my way towards the Uchiha compound. Fidgeting in the middle of the road wouldn't change anything.

In that moment, I decided to let go of my worries and simply go with the flow. I reassured myself that it couldn't be as bad as my imagination made it out to be.

…

As I made my way towards the Uchiha clan compound, my nerves started to get the better of me. Fidgeting anxiously near the front gate, I caught the attention of a vigilant Uchiha guard, who called out to me.

"Hey, you! What are you doing over there?" he questioned, eyeing me suspiciously.

Startled, I stammered out a response, "I-I'm here for deliveries!"

His piercing gaze seemed to scrutinize me further. "To whom and from whose regard?" he asked, clearly cautious.

I quickly retrieved the envelope and read aloud the sender's name, "Magoroku Kanemoto to Kanesada Uchiha.

Recognition flashed in the guard's eyes. "Ah, then you're clear to go. Aren't you one of Itachi's friends?" he remarked with a hint of familiarity.

Surprised, I replied, "Yes, how did you know?"

"Just from some words passing by," he casually answered. "Anyway, you should hurry. Kanesada -san should be on his lunch break, and he won't open his door when he's working."

Feeling relieved, I bowed gratefully to the guard and swiftly entered the compound. Navigating through the surroundings, I mustered the courage to ask for directions to the recipient's house. Finally, I arrived—or at least, I thought I had.

The house appeared somewhat secluded, with a separate building that I recognized as a workshop from the billowing smoke coming out of the chimney. Summoning my courage, I called out, "Excuse me! I have deliveries!"

No response. Uncertain, I wondered if I should enter and inspect the workshop. It seemed likely that Kanesada-san was a blacksmith or craftsman, judging by the sounds emanating from the building. I hoped he wouldn't mind my intrusion.

"Please excuse me..." I murmured, a sense of unease creeping into my stomach. I reminded myself that infiltration and home invasion were activities regularly undertaken by ninjas on their missions.

Nevertheless, as I reached out to slide the door open, it unexpectedly swung open from the inside. Startled, my eyes widened, and I stumbled backward. Although my footwork was far from perfect, I managed to regain my balance just in time.

As I stood before him, the man's weary gaze met mine. "Who are you, kid? Can't you tell I'm busy," he grumbled, his dark hair peppered with specks of gray, a sign of his middle age.

"Are you Kanesada-san?" I asked, seeking confirmation. Upon receiving a nod, I hurriedly presented the letter. "A delivery," I explained, fumbling through my satchel until I found the envelope. "From Magoroku Kanemoto-san."

Kanesada sighed in annoyance, taking the letter from my hands and unfolding it. "What does he want now?" he muttered to himself.

Curiosity piqued, I awaited his response. Eventually, he gestured for me to enter, his tone begrudgingly inviting. "Just come in, kid, and don't touch anything."

"Yes," I replied meekly, obeying his instructions without question. The workshop was surprisingly tidy, with tools arranged meticulously and labeled for easy access. It was evident that Kanesada was a meticulous and organized individual.

The source of the earlier smoke became apparent as I noticed a chimney and the tools typically used by blacksmiths. My attention was briefly captivated by a peculiar contraption hanging on the wall, surrounded by numerous other ninja tools and weapons.

My reverie was interrupted as Kanesada paused and retrieved something from a storage unit. While my gaze occasionally wandered to the intriguing wall display, my focus remained on the task at hand.

Thud.

A large chest was unceremoniously dropped onto the floor. "There you go," Kanesada said, his tone casual.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I inquired, "What is this?"

Kanesada replied with a hint of pride in his voice, "Ah, this is a chest of excellent-grade iron sand used by the Uchiha."

"In what way is it different?" I asked, genuinely intrigued by the uniqueness of the material.

"It's all in the smelting method, kid. We utilize fire-type jutsu and our unique eyes to create it."

I refrained from asking further, fearing that my curiosity might irritate him. After all, I was merely a messenger with no right to pry. I surmised that Magoroku would likely use the iron sand for his blacksmithing endeavors.

Sealing the chest with a storage seal, I rose to my feet. However, before my nerves could overwhelm me, I found myself pointing towards a particular spot on the wall. "Kanesada-san... if you don't mind me asking... is that a firearm?"

The man turned his head, acknowledging my observation. "That is a hand-cannon. You're familiar with it, kid?"

"I know a little," I replied, my description slightly uncertain. "It's loud and capable of propelling projectiles at a speed three times faster than that of an ordinary shinobi, right?"

Surprisingly, my knowledge seemed to pique his interest. "I didn't expect someone to recognize it. The village used similar cannons during the war, but it was my grandfather who came up with the idea to miniaturize it. It was meant to protect Uchiha civilians and provide them with a means of defense in case of a siege, not that it would ever happen."

He boasted about the Uchiha with a sense of pride, but I couldn't help but offer a wry smile at his narrative.

"In any case, it was a failure," he continued. "No one showed interest, so I simply hung it on the wall as a memento."

Unable to contain my enthusiasm, I made a bold request. "Can I order one?"

"No, I have plenty of orders to fulfill before considering that," he replied, disappointing me.

Undeterred, I pressed further. "How about the schematic? Could you sell it to me?"

"Hmm, wait a minute," he replied, disappearing momentarily before returning with a scroll in hand. "Here."

Eagerly, I asked, "How much?"

Kanesada waved his hand dismissively, his weariness momentarily replaced by a hint of intrigue. "No need. If that shrewd cautious of a man gave you some job, then you're probably trustworthy." he remarked, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Anyway, it's a failed design. But perhaps you can continue where my grandfather left off."

Deeply grateful, I bowed to him sincerely. "Thank you so much."

"Yeah, yeah. I have plenty of work to do, so get out. Send my regards to Magoroku."

"Yes!" I replied, my heart filled with excitement as I darted out of the workshop, my steps light and buoyant.