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Haruto sat at his usual spot in the hospital, his mind lost in the routine of sorting through medical files. The Chunin Exams were only days away, but it wasn't on his mind. Work had become a way to keep himself grounded, to avoid the weight of everything else.

Shizune entered quietly, her face unusually somber.

"Haruto," she said gently, "there's an investigator from the Uchiha Police Force here to see you."

Haruto frowned. The Uchiha Police? That was odd. He didn't have any direct connection to them aside from Shisui. What could they want with him? A sense of unease began to build in his chest as he nodded and followed her to the front desk.

There, a middle-aged Uchiha man stood waiting. Haruto didn't recognize him, but the look in his eyes told him this wasn't some routine visit. Something serious had happened.

"Haruto," the man said in a quiet, measured tone. "Can we speak somewhere more private?"

Haruto's stomach tightened, but he nodded, leading the officer down the hall to a quiet, empty room. Once the door was closed, the Uchiha's face softened slightly as he prepared to deliver whatever news he had brought.

"I'm afraid I have some difficult news for you," the investigator began, his voice lowering. "It's about someone from your past… from the orphanage, she had you listed as last of kin."

Haruto felt his chest tighten as dread washed over him.

"Her name was…" The investigator said a name, but it wasn't what Haruto called her. Obaa-Chan—that's who she was to him.

Haruto's breath caught as the memories of Obaa-chan came flooding back. The woman who had taken care of him, loved him like family. She was the closest thing he had to a mother, the one who had always been there for him.

The investigator took a deep breath before continuing, his eyes reflecting a hint of sympathy. "She's gone, Haruto. She was found last night. Mugged and murdered."

The words hit Haruto like a physical blow, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Gone? How could she be gone? She had always been there, a kind, constant presence in his life. He had been meaning to visit her, to see her again after the exams.

"Mugged?" Haruto repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper.

The investigator nodded grimly. "It looks like a mugging gone wrong. There are no solid leads, but the investigation is ongoing."

Haruto's fists clenched at his sides, his mind swimming with disbelief and confusion. Obaa-chan had always been careful, always cautious. How could this happen? And worse—why hadn't he been there for her?

The next day at Obaa-Chan's funeral

It had been at least an hour since the funeral had ended.

It was raining as Haruto continued to look at Obaa-chan's gravestone. Haruto thought even the sky was mourning her death. Damn this world, he thought bitterly, his heart heavy with grief he couldn't fully express.

His team and sensi stood with him—silent, supportive, but unsure of how to ease the weight he carried. Along with them were Shizune, Kushina, and Minato, their presence a quiet show of solidarity. Even with everyone around him, Haruto felt alone, the hollow ache in his chest growing with each passing moment.

Shisui, always watching out for him, had pulled a favor. He had managed to assign a jōnin investigator to look into Obaa-chan's death, an act unheard of for a civilian like her. It should have made Haruto feel grateful, but all it did was remind him how little even the best investigators could do now. No one could bring her back.

His teammates had suggested they hold off on the Chunin Exams this year, that they could wait until Haruto was ready. But he wouldn't do that to them. They had worked hard for this, and Haruto knew that delaying it wouldn't make anything easier. Life went on, even if it felt like it shouldn't.

Haruto sighed, his breath shaky. The rain continued to fall, mixing with the tears he didn't allow himself to shed. He had always thought he could handle whatever life threw at him, but this? This was different.

Just as the quiet seemed to consume him, Shizune gently touched his shoulder, her hand warm and soft in a gesture of comfort. She didn't say anything—she didn't need to. Her presence was enough to remind him he wasn't entirely alone.

But the ache, the hollowness, it stayed. And as the rain poured, Haruto felt himself cry along with the sky.