Otis was shopping for groceries today, walking along Market Road near the Uchiha compound.
Otis had just finished training. His shirt clung to him damp due to sweating.
His hair stuck to his forehead, his arms felt heavy from tossing boulders at trees. The bag slung over his shoulder thumped softly as he walked.
Then he saw it.
A basket of vegetables rolling across the dirt.
A tomato burst near his foot with a wet splat.
And in the middle of the ss — a woman crouched calmly, one hand holding down the hem of her kimono, the other reaching for a runaway tomato.
In the background, two kids were arguing.
“It’s your fault!”
“You’re the one who bumped into !”
Otis didn’t say a word.
He just stepped over, knelt beside the basket, and started picking up vegetables.
The woman looked over, surprised.
“Oh—thank you.”
Otis nodded slightly, gathering a bunch of tomatoes in his large arms.
“No problem.”
“That was very kind of you,” she said, taking tomatoes from him. “I don’t believe we’ve t.”
He paused.
“...Otis.”
“Otis,” she repeated, as if testing the sound. “I'm Mikoto.”
Otis froze.
She smiled — soft, composed, but... a little tired, too.
“Nice to et you,” he said.
“Sa to you.”
Otis said nothing more.
But he rembered the day — not the death itself, but the tension in the air, the flags raised at the Uchiha district, and Mikoto’s face the next morning at the morial stone. She hadn’t cried.
She had just stood beside Itachi, one hand resting gently on his shoulder. Her belly had been big then — Sasuke was about to be born.
Fugaku had died on a mission outside the village, An enemy ninja had plucked his Sharingan right out of his skull.
That was the day Otis realized this world was different from the one he rembered. It was different from the canon Naruto tiline, maybe it was an alternate universe.
So characters were the sa…but many things had changed.
Like when he saw the map in the Academy — just the Land of Fire alone was as big as Russia from his past life.
The whole continent was massive. It was not this big in the ani.
And if Fugaku was already dead…Otis wasn't certain but maybe Itachi already had Mangekyō Sharingan.
Mikoto stood now with a grocery bag in one hand, and the other bag resting on the shoulder of a little boy beside her.
Otis’s brow twitched.
Then twitched again.
Because there was another kid beside her.
Sa height. Sa dark hair. Sa Uchiha energy.
His brain hit pause. ‘Za fuck.’
He Stared.
And then Blinked.
"Wait a minute."
Two Sasukes.
Both had the sa sharp eyes, the sa raven-black hair, and the sa air of “I’m brooding.”
One wore a short blue shirt.
The other wore a purple one.
Both glared at him with equal confusion.
Otis blinked again.
“…That one duplicated.”
Mikoto chuckled gently. “No, Otis-kun. That’s Sasuke.”
“...Yeah. And… that’s also Sasuke.” otis said pointing at the other one.
She laughed softly.
Sasuke (blue shirt) folded his arms.
Purple-shirt Sasuke rolled his eyes and muttered, “Idiot.”
Otis blinked again. Paused.
Then slowly pointed at her.
“…Hold on. You’re a girl Sasuke?”
She groaned.
“My na’s Sayuri.”
(Pic)
Sasuke rolled his eyes now. “She’s my twin.”
Otis scratched the back of his neck, deadpan.
“Twins, huh?”
“...That’s unnatural.”
Mikoto stifled a laugh behind her hand.
“It’s very natural, dear.”
“Not when they both have murder eyes.”
Sayuri huffed.
“That’s just our face!”
“I’m not angry!”
Otis raised a brow. “Are you sure?”
Sayuri crossed her arms and scowled harder. “This is just how I look!”
“Uh-huh.”
Otis leaned down slightly, inspecting her.
“You sure you’re not just a short clone? Sasuke doesn’t talk this much.”
Sasuke, insulted, frowned. “I do talk.”
Otis gave him a flat look.
Sayuri poked him in the arm — which was like poking a stone wall.
“You’re weird.”
Otis glanced down.
“So are you. You look like Sasuke with opinions.”
Mikoto stepped forward.
Her eyes were softer now. Sothing maternal in them.
“Otis-kun… you train alone near the river, don’t you?”
He blinked. “You know that?”
She nodded.
“The wind carries sound. And children talk more than they realize.”
Otis didn’t say anything.
Just gave a slow, slight nod.
Mikoto gathered her things, looking at Otis one more ti.
“Have you eaten yet?”
He blinked.
“...No.”
“Would you join us for lunch?”
Otis glanced at the kids, then at her.
Paused.
“...You have rice?”
Mikoto smiled. “Plenty.”
“Then I accept.”
The Uchiha compound had too many rules.
Otis could feel them in the air — in the way the stones were arranged perfectly, the way even the trees looked like they were depressed.
He walked slower than usual, arms crossed behind his back.
A boy at the gate had given him a judgntal once-over.
Otis had stared back flatly
Now he was inside.
Following Mikoto down the path.
She wore the sa calm she always had — but here, it felt Like the walls were watching her too.
Otis noticed the glances from passing clansn. He was too big, unknown and he didn't look like an Uchiha.
He didn’t mind.
Still, he leaned closer to Mikoto, like he was expecting soone was going to stab him.
She snorted — tried to cover it with a polite cough.
“Try not to scare the elders.”
“I’m not. This is just my face.”
Inside her ho — everything was quiet, clean, and neatly arranged.
Otis stood in the entryway like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to exist there.
Mikoto gestured toward the table. “Sit.”
“I usually do that without permission, but thanks.”
He sat cross-legged. Not because he wanted to be polite — he just didn’t want to knock anything over.
The space was too small for soone his size and too delicate. He felt like a wild animal in a museum.
Mikoto returned with tea and side dishes.
“I'm making extra rice.”
“You read my mind.”
“I read your appetite.”
Otis stared down at the food.
Steam rose from it
He blinked.
He couldn’t rember the last ti he’d had ho-cooked food..
“This is… a lot.”
“You’re a lot,” Mikoto replied calmly. “It matches.”
They ate in mostly silence.
Sayuri stared at him the whole ti.
“Do you even chew?”
“Once a week,” he said without looking up.
She blinked.
Mikoto choked on her tea.
As he reached for more pickles, Otis muttered:
“You know, I think if I stay here too long, the compound will start charging rent.”
Mikoto smirked. “If you keep eating like this, I’ll be the one paying property taxes for you.”
“Glad to know I’ve moved up to dependent status.”
And sohow, with jokes and rice and too many side-eyes from Sayuri, he felt sothing he hadn’t felt in a while. It's been a long ti since he last felt the warmth of ho.
Like maybe, in this place…
Nobody minded if he stayed a little longer.
...
(A/N)
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