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A few days into their stay in the Uchiha compound, Shikako and Sasuke get cornered by concerned Uchiha adults. Apparently, their lack of “proper” equipment alarmed the clan, and the Uchiha want to assess their abilities in case they’re just as lacking in that regard. Well, they don’t quite say that out loud, but it’s clearly what they’re thinking.
So the two of them are dragged to a predictably scorched training ground and put through their paces. Even with Madara on the sidelines, radiating heat and grief, it goes fine—until the Uchiha ask them to demonstrate their fire jutsu.
Actually, Sasuke is still fine. Showing off his fire chidori isn’t a good idea—Izuna’s armor would probably survive the experience, but the jutsu is weird and distinctive and, Shikako is beginning to suspect, it would give Madara a heart attack if he ever saw it. (Not to mention that the rest of the clan might not react well to Izuna Uchiha’s teenage doppelganger literally setting himself on fire.) Still, Sasuke had an Uchiha early education and he has the clan fire affinity; even restricting himself to the traditional standbys, he knows an impressive range of fire jutsu. It isn't hard for him to convince his clansmen that he's competent, and whatever oddities being self-taught for years had left in his technique just serve to add some verisimilitude to their cover story of being neglected orphans. He has, in fact, been drafted to teach some of his less-well-known jutsu to a gaggle of children.
Shikako, though. Shikako is, by Uchiha standards, woefully lacking in fire jutsu.
The thing is, Shikako does know some fire jutsu—but they’re a mixture of D-rank chakra tricks that barely count as jutsu and odds and ends from Kakashi’s book. They’re either useless in battle or too strange and anachronistic to show off here, and none of them are the kind of fire jutsu the Uchiha taught their children. That kind of jutsu—the C through A rank staples? Shikako has seen maybe half of them, and she’s never used any.
At home, in her own time, that hadn’t been a problem. Shikako had always been charging in a hundred directions, learning sealing, healing, earth and shadow. What point was there in learning techniques that would destroy the shadows she needed to work with her clan jutsu? Anyway, if she needed fire jutsu and Sasuke wasn’t there, she could easily duplicate the effect with seals. Fire had never been a priority, and she stood by that judgement.
Apparently, here and now, Shikako’s priorities constitute a scandal on a par with her lack of equipment. The woman who’d asked her to demonstrate is shocked; the man who had been testing her sword work earlier is horrified, and both of them are loud. Knowledge of Uchiha Nakano’s appalling weak spot spreads across the training ground in waves, and Shikako wishes that she could just flash step away and work on her seals in peace.
The pulse of familiar blazing chakra tells her that no, that won’t be an option, as Madara stalks over from the sidelines, scattering panicky clansmen. Shikako is resigned by the time he stops next to her.
“Can you do any fire jutsu?” he grits out.
At least Shikako is getting used to him; she’s not so much afraid for her life as she is afraid of being confined to the compound. (Not that the Uchiha could enforce that, given their utter lack of sensors who can see through her stealth. Still.)
Shikako demonstrates the least useless of her D-rank fire jutsu, a thin tendril of fire. It is obviously not up to Madara’s standards.
“Is this truly what the clan has come to?” he asks the air around him. That seems to be becoming a pattern. “How have we come to this?”
“Um. Sasuke is really good at fire jutsu?” she offers. “So I focused on earth.” She cuts herself off from adding and lightning, because bringing out the Sword of the Thunder God to demonstrate that one is definitely not a good idea. (She doesn't even know if Tobirama has made that sword yet. But if he has, it's nothing that a teenage Uchiha orphan should have in her hands.)
Apparently, this is not an acceptable answer. Madara’s withering disdain for the whole concept of earth jutsu honestly makes Shikako annoyed on behalf of her mother.
(Not that she can admit to having an earth-specialist mother here; she’s trying not to stand out, and that means no details about her tragically dead Uchiha parents that might make it easier for someone to realize that those people never existed.)
Madara stands there radiating disappointment (and fire, and old grief, and that shocking protectiveness) for a long while, with the arrogance of someone who knows that no one will move or speak before he does. Then he sighs, and tells her to start molding fire-natured chakra. “The Great Fireball Technique is essential for an Uchiha by your age,” he tells her, and begins to walk her through the seals. (She doubts that Uchiha Madara has used more than one seal for this technique since he was half Kagatsuchi’s age, but for her, he uses the full sequence. His explanation is practiced; either he’s done this before or he memorized someone else’s instructions. Predictably, his demonstration fireball is enormous, aimed into the sky to avoid injuring any of his clansmen.
Then, he tells her to try.
Well. At least she already knows how to mold fire chakra, even if she hasn’t practiced it all that much; not knowing that would blow her cover for sure. Shikako works through the seals carefully and precisely, and after a couple tries she does manage to successfully do the jutsu.
Her eventual fireballs are small for the technique, she thinks. But they’re definitely fireballs, and at Madara’s prompting she demonstrates her aim on a set of targets. This, at least, is satisfactory. Eventually he nods, and without even paying attention to Shikako’s bow he stalks back to the sidelines. Probably to watch Sasuke teaching the children; he’s going in the wrong direction to be returning to his empty house.
The onlookers are still keeping their distance, but they look a bit less alarmed by Madara’s presence than they had to begin with. Sasuke will be happy about that, at least.