Dinner

Dusk settled in, and the warm fragrance of miso soup drifted through the kitchen.

Uchiha Mikoto stood before the stove, an indigo linen apron tied around her, its straps knotted neatly behind her waist.

As she bent to check the stewpot, a few loose strands of hair gleamed with a satin-like sheen in the warm light.

Outside the window, the setting sun was painting the sky a magnificent crimson, while the distant Ginza Building had just lit up.

The indoor lights mingled with the evening glow, casting shifting shadows across her gentle profile.

Mikoto chopped vegetables with a ninja's crisp efficiency, turning the onion beneath her blade into even, snow-white slivers.

When the oil in the pan began to sizzle softly, she started humming a childhood nursery rhyme.

The glass window gradually misted over from the difference in temperature, reflecting the girl's figure swaying gently amid the cooking smoke.

The moment she sprinkled on the bonito flakes, she heard a knock from the entryway, and a smile more beautiful than the sunset immediately blossomed at the corners of her eyes.

"I'm here. The door isn't locked."

Mikoto answered softly, flitting through the deepening dusk beneath the corridor like a graceful butterfly.

As she opened the kitchen door, the evening breeze swept through the hallway carrying the fragrance of sunflowers.

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

Mikoto raised a hand and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. That simple gesture tightened the fabric at the front of her apron slightly, faintly revealing the full curve of her chest.

"Sister Mikoto, should I say, 'I'm home'?"

Ren's voice carried a smile, his eyes filled with contentment—

Warm yellow light outlined Mikoto in a soft halo.

The woman walking toward him in an apron looked just like a newlywed wife waiting for her husband to return home, every step carrying a gentle charm that stirred the heart.

"Little brother Ren, what do you think?"

Mikoto replied with a smile, naturally taking the katana he removed and placing it on the sword rack before taking hold of the boy's wrist.

Warmth spread from where their skin touched as she led Ren into the living room and seated him.

The soft cushion still retained the scent of afternoon sunlight. Ren had barely sat down before reaching to pinch her fingertips, only for her to deftly pull her hand away.

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

"I'll help too."

Ren was just about to stand and follow her when Mikoto turned back and lightly tapped his forehead with a fingertip.

"We agreed it would be my turn to show off today."

Ren watched her figure vanish behind the glass door. Listening to the cheerful symphony of kitchenware from the kitchen, the corners of his mouth rose unconsciously.

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

Even with a war in the Shinobi World on the verge of erupting, nobles and wealthy merchants across the nations still sang, danced, and spent money without restraint.

Ninjas and people like them seemed like parallel lines that would never intersect.

The only ones certain to suffer were always the innocent civilians swept into the vortex.

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

The interior decorations were elegant and solemn, clearly arranged in the style favored by elders of the previous generation.

Yet the carefully placed greenery added a touch of homely warmth to that sense of dignity.

"Elder Huoke isn't here?"

Ren sensed the surrounding presences and discovered that only Mikoto and he were in the house.

That made him relax a little.

Before coming here, Ren had been prepared to meet the family. To be honest, he had been rather nervous.

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

Ren shook his head and dismissed the thought. His gentle and virtuous fiancée would never do something like that.

Maybe Elder Huoke will return around dinner time. As Ren was thinking this, the kitchen's sliding door was gently pushed open.

Mikoto emerged carrying a large lacquered wooden tray laden with several exquisite dishes.

The perfectly pan-seared salted salmon gleamed with golden oil, while the emerald-green chilled spinach was dotted with white sesame seeds.

The silky chawanmushi gave off an enticing aroma, alongside a small pot of bubbling, steaming miso soup.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

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

"After Grandpa and the others finished discussing matters with me this afternoon, I brought up inviting you over for dinner. Then Elder Setsuna invited Grandpa away, saying they wouldn't come back until they were thoroughly drunk."

The girl looked up at Ren, a faint smile in her eyes, as though she were saying—

See? It wasn't something I deliberately arranged.

"That sounds like protesting too much!"

Ren nearly laughed out loud.

He could fully imagine Elder Huoke's dark expression, reluctant and unwilling, yet helpless to refuse.

"The two elders are getting on in years. Staying up late drinking isn't good for them. I'll have to persuade them another day."

Hearing Ren speak such polite formalities with a straight face, Mikoto shot him a flirtatious yet reproachful glare—this little rascal was getting better and better at pushing his luck.

Thick-skinned as ever, Ren smiled and took Mikoto's soft hand, pulling her into her seat.

He picked up a piece of tamagoyaki and placed it in his mouth. The fragrance of egg and its perfectly balanced sweetness slowly spread over his tongue.

Then, looking at Mikoto's quiet profile beneath the lamplight as she lowered her eyes, an unprecedented sense of the peace of "home" filled his heart.

"It tastes wonderful."

Ren praised her softly.

A gentle curve formed at the corners of Mikoto's eyes. She said nothing, merely skillfully picking up a piece of Ayu belly meat with all the fine bones removed and naturally placing it in his bowl.

As the meal neared its end, Mikoto picked up a ceramic pot and poured Ren a cup of hot tea.

Through the curling steam, she looked up at him, her expression gentle yet solemn.

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

Mikoto paused slightly, gazing at him with steady eyes.

"I'll leave the part you personally built exactly as it is. Next, I'll take over the intelligence channels in the clan head's hands as smoothly as possible."

"What do you think?"

Before he had even stepped onto the battlefield, Uchiha Fugaku had already been eliminated from the competition for clan head in Mikoto's eyes.

Sharingan: Space Jump alone was an immense contribution.

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

The former Konohagakure hero, the Konoha White Fang, who ultimately died by suicide, had also dominated the world through body-flicker techniques and swordsmanship comparable to teleportation.

With the Wind-Riding Sword Technique and Space Jump, the Uchiha Clan might well achieve the same!

When that time came, everyone would be a "White Fang." Looking across the Shinobi World, who among the Uchiha Clan could stand against them?

Yet contrary to Mikoto's expectations, Ren shook his head slightly and affectionately pinched her cheek.

"What's mine is yours. There was never any need to separate them."

"And this is the first order the clan has issued with one united voice."

"It is the beginning of everyone setting aside past divisions and moving toward unity. We cannot make this a bad beginning."

Looking at the boy's earnest expression, Mikoto's eyes seemed to light up with starlight.