Inoiki stood still, his senses on high alert, waiting for any sign of Fu. His pulse pounded in his ears, each second stretching into an eternity. The world around him was eerily quiet—too quiet. But after what felt like an endless wait, there was no trace of Fu. No rustle of leaves, no shadowy figure slipping through the trees. Inoiki's heart began to slow, the tension in his body easing just a fraction.
"Maybe he really left," Inoiki muttered under his breath, but he wasn't one to take chances.
With a sharp focus, he extended his telekinetic control, pulling the three kunai and Fu's abandoned sword toward him. The weapons floated in midair before he grasped them tightly in his hand. Using psychokinesis on his body, he took off at a sprint, racing toward home at full speed, his eyes scanning the landscape for any signs of ambush. The urge to fly tugged at him, but he resisted. Revealing all his abilities now could be dangerous—especially if Fu was watching from somewhere unseen. No, for now, he would run.
He didn't stop. The landscape blurred around him as he pushed himself harder, faster, until finally, the familiar shape of his home came into view. He skidded to a halt just outside, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. For a moment, he allowed himself to calm, steadying his heartbeat. His mother couldn't know what had just happened—she'd worry too much. With deliberate effort, he smoothed his breathing, wiped the sweat from his brow, and stepped inside.
The house was quiet. Inoiki immediately made his way to his father's room, but it was empty. No sign of him. He moved through the halls, looking for his sister, Ino, but she wasn't there either.
Finally, he headed toward the kitchen, where the familiar sound of chopping vegetables greeted him. His mother stood at the counter, focused on her task, the smell of cooking filling the air.
"Mom, where's Ino?" Inoiki asked as he entered, trying to sound casual. "I can't find her."
His mother looked up from her work, offering him a gentle smile. "She's with Shikamaru and Choza. They probably went to play."
"Oh..." Inoiki nodded, trying to suppress the tension still lingering in his chest. "Do you know when Dad's coming home?"
She didn't look up this time, her knife moving rhythmically as she chopped. "He said he doesn't have much work today, so he'll be home for lunch. Why? Is something wrong?"
Inoiki forced a laugh. "No, no, nothing like that. Just wanted to ask him about my training."
He hesitated for a moment, then added, "I'm going to rest for a bit, Mom. I had a tough session."
"Alright, dear," she replied, still focused on the vegetables.
With that, Inoiki turned and headed to his room. The moment he closed the door, he let out a deep breath, leaning against the wall as his thoughts raced. He might have escaped Fu for now, but the threat was far from over. He would need to be ready, and he would need to talk to his father. But for now, all he could do was wait.
Inoiki leaned against the window in his room, gazing out at the peaceful afternoon sky. His thoughts, though, were far from peaceful. "There's not much I can do now. I just have to wait for Dad," he thought. The moment he let himself relax, the weight of exhaustion swept over him. The adrenaline from the fight and the tense escape had worn off, and now, his body demanded rest. His eyelids grew heavy, and before long, he was asleep.
Hours passed. When Inoiki finally opened his eyes, the light filtering through the window was tinged with the orange glow of the setting sun. Startled, he jolted up, his eyes wide. "Damn, I slept past noon... it's already close to dusk!" He rubbed his head groggily, but then the haze of sleep began to clear, and he realized the toll the day had taken on him.
"Not surprising," he muttered to himself, recalling the strain of the battle and the long run home. "I burned through about 70% of my chakra fighting Fu, then used another 20% running home... I've only got 10% left. No wonder I passed out."
Just as he was about to get up, a sudden thought hit him like a bolt of lightning—he still needed to talk to his father. "Damn, I am—" He stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening.
There, at the door of his room, sat his father on a cushion, watching him silently.
Inoiki's heart skipped a beat. "Dad! When did you get here?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice calm.
His father leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady and unreadable. "I got home in the afternoon," he began, his tone measured and calm. "Your mother mentioned you were looking for me. She said you seemed anxious." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "I figured you had something important to discuss, so I came to your room. But when I found you asleep, I didn't want to disturb you."
Inoiki swallowed, trying to gauge where this conversation was going.
"I was about to leave," his father continued, "but then I noticed something under your table." His voice grew firmer as he gestured toward a bundle wrapped in white cloth. "I found three kunai and a sword."
With a smooth motion, Inoiki's father dragged the weapons into the light, placing them between them. The room seemed to grow heavier with the unspoken questions that hung in the air.
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