Dinner

Twilight gathered, and the warm aroma of miso soup drifted through the kitchen.

Uchiha Mikoto stood before the stove, wearing an indigo linen apron with the ties knotted elegantly at the small of her back.

As she leaned over to check the stew pot, a few stray locks of hair caught the warm light, shimmering with a silken luster.

Outside the window, the setting sun was painting the sky in a magnificent crimson, and the lights of the distant Ginza buildings had just begun to flicker on.

The indoor light mingled with the evening glow, casting shifting shadows across her soft, beautiful profile.

Mikoto's movements as she sliced vegetables possessed the precision of a ninja, the onion transforming into uniform, snow-white slivers beneath her blade.

As the oil in the pan began to sizzle, she softly hummed a nursery rhyme from her childhood.

The glass window gradually clouded with condensation from the temperature difference, reflecting the girl's silhouette as she swayed gently with the rising steam.

The moment she sprinkled the bonito flakes, she heard a knock at the entryway, and a smile more captivating than the sunset instantly bloomed at the corners of her eyes.

"Coming, the door is unlocked."

Mikoto replied in a soft voice, moving like a fluttering butterfly through the deepening twilight of the hallway.

When she slid open the kitchen door, the evening breeze swept through the corridor, carrying the fragrance of sunflowers.

Ren stood in the warm light of the entryway, his gaze fixed on the figure approaching him.

Mikoto reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, a simple gesture that pulled the fabric of her apron taut, subtly revealing the full curve of her chest.

"Mikoto-nee, should I say 'I'm home'?"

There was a smile in Ren's voice, and his eyes were filled with contentment—

The warm yellow light outlined a soft halo around Mikoto.

The woman walking toward him in an apron looked for all the world like a newlywed wife waiting for her husband to return, every step imbued with a heart-stirring, gentle charm.

"Ren-didi, what do you think?"

Mikoto responded with a smile, naturally taking the katana he had unbuckled to place it on the rack, then taking the young man's wrist in her hand.

Warmth spread from their touching skin as she led Ren to sit in the living room.

The cushions still held the scent of the afternoon sun; as soon as Ren sat down, he reached out to pinch her fingertips, but she deftly pulled her hand away.

"The miso soup is still simmering on the stove."

"I'll come help, then."

Ren had just started to stand up when Mikoto turned back and lightly tapped his forehead with her fingertip.

"We agreed that it was my turn to show off my skills today."

Ren watched her figure disappear behind the glass door, listening to the light symphony of kitchenware, and the corners of his mouth lifted involuntarily.

He relaxed his spine against the cushion, his gaze sweeping over the sea of brilliant lights in Ginza outside the window.

Even with a ninja world war on the brink of breaking out, the nobles and wealthy merchants of the various nations continued to indulge in song and dance, throwing money away as if it were nothing.

Ninjas and these people seemed to be parallel lines that would never intersect.

The only certain sufferers—were always the innocent civilians caught in the vortex.

But what does that have to do with me? Ren chuckled inwardly, then looked around with curiosity—this was his first time visiting Mikoto's home.

The interior decor was elegant and solemn, clearly the layout of an elder from the previous generation.

Yet, the well-placed greenery added a touch of domestic warmth to the gravity of the space.

"Is Elder Huoke not here?"

Ren sensed the surroundings and realized that only he and Mikoto were in the house.

This actually made him feel a bit more relaxed.

Truth be told, he had been feeling quite nervous, having come here with the intention of meeting her family.

Could it be that this girl invited Elder Huoke out to eat?

Ren shook his head, dismissing the thought; his gentle and virtuous fiancée would never do such a thing.

Perhaps Elder Huoke will return when it's time for dinner. Just as Ren was thinking this, the kitchen sliding door was gently pushed open.

Mikoto walked out carrying a large lacquered wooden tray, upon which sat several exquisite dishes.

The salt-grilled salmon, seared to perfection, glistened with golden oil, and the vibrant green spinach salad was sprinkled with snowy white sesame seeds.

The silky chawanmushi emitted an alluring aroma, accompanied by a small pot of miso soup bubbling with steam.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

Mikoto arranged the dishes on the table one by one, set out two pairs of bowls and chopsticks, and explained in a soft, melodic voice.

"After I finished discussing matters with Grandfather and the others this afternoon, I brought up the idea of inviting you to dinner. Grandfather was then whisked away by Elder Setsuna, who insisted they drink until they couldn't drink anymore."

The girl looked up at Ren, her eyes filled with a light, playful smile, as if to say—

See, it wasn't something I arranged on purpose.

The thief protesting his innocence!

Ren nearly laughed out loud.

He could perfectly imagine Elder Huoke's dark expression at the time—reluctant and unwilling, yet utterly helpless.

"The two elders are getting on in years; staying up late to drink isn't good for them. I shall certainly go and persuade them another day."

Hearing Ren speak such polite, formal nonsense with a straight face, Mikoto cast him a glance that was both charming and coquettish—this little rascal was truly becoming more and more adept at climbing the pole the moment it was offered.

With a thick-skinned grin, Ren took Mikoto's soft hand and pulled her to her seat.

He picked up a piece of tamagoyaki and popped it into his mouth, the fragrance of the egg and the perfectly balanced sweetness slowly melting on his tongue.

Then, looking at Mikoto's quiet, demure profile under the lamplight, a sense of domestic peace filled his heart like never before.

"It tastes wonderful."

Ren praised softly.

The corners of Mikoto's eyes curved into a gentle arc; she didn't speak, simply using her practiced hands to pick a piece of Ayu belly meat, meticulously deboned, and naturally place it into his bowl.

As the meal neared its end, Mikoto picked up the ceramic teapot to pour Ren a cup of clear tea.

Amidst the swirling steam, she looked up at him, her expression gentle yet solemn.

"Ren, this afternoon, Grandfather and the others decided to hand over the entire clan's intelligence network for me to consolidate."

Mikoto paused briefly, her gaze fixed steadily upon him.

"I will keep the portion you personally managed exactly as it is, and moving forward, I will take over the intelligence channels currently held by the clan head as smoothly as possible."

"What do you think?"

Even before stepping onto the battlefield, Uchiha Fugaku was, in Mikoto's eyes, already out of the race for clan head.

The mere existence of the "Sharingan: Space Jump" was a merit of heaven-defying proportions.

Whether for killing or retreating, it would allow any Uchiha who had awakened their eyes to act with far greater composure.

The former Konoha hero, the "Konoha White Fang" who met his end by suicide, had also dominated the world by relying on his sword technique and a Body Flicker Technique comparable to teleportation.

An Uchiha possessing the Wind-Riding Sword Technique and Space Jump could surely achieve the same!

When that time came, everyone would be a "White Fang"—looking across the entire ninja world, who could possibly stand against the Uchiha?

However, contrary to Mikoto's expectations, Ren shook his head slightly and reached out to affectionately pinch her cheek.

"What is mine is yours; there has never been a need to separate them."

"Besides, this is the first time the clan has issued an order with a single, unified voice."

"It is the beginning of everyone setting aside past grievances and moving toward unity; we must not be the ones to set a bad precedent."

Watching the young man's earnest expression, Mikoto's eyes seemed to sparkle with starlight.