Mikoto's Tenderness and the Mockery of a God's-Eye View

The night was as dark as ink, saturating every corner of the Hokage Residence.

When Baishi returned to his study, waves of fine, tide-like exhaustion surged from deep within his body. This was not mere mental fatigue, but an instinctive protest from his body after he had forcibly devoured and assimilated One-Tail Shukaku in the Land of Wind, then released that violent Chakra without restraint at the Konoha elders' meeting.

The Hashirama Cells and Uzumaki Sage Body were like the most precise machines, frantically repairing and suppressing the berserk energies within him that did not belong to him. But such intense self-regulation was itself an enormous drain.

He loosened his collar. Beneath his fingertips, he could feel the artery in his neck pulsing powerfully. Each beat seemed to remind him that this seemingly powerful body was actually a volcano that could erupt out of control at any moment.

"Creak—"

The Japanese-style paper sliding door was silently pushed open by a pair of slender hands.

Mikoto Uchiha entered quietly with a wooden tray, then soundlessly closed the door behind her. She wore a plain, elegant dark-blue kimono, and her long hair was tied up with a simple hairpin, revealing a stretch of snow-white, graceful neck. A faint fragrance from her hair drifted through the air, instantly dispelling the oppressive atmosphere in the study, woven from tension and intrigue.

She said nothing. She merely walked behind Baishi, placed the tray on the low table, and quietly knelt down, her movements as elegant as a frozen painting.

"Lord Hokage, you've worked hard." Her voice was soft, carrying the gentle warmth of Jiangnan's waterways, yet also containing the subtle resilience unique to the Uchiha Clan.

Baishi did not turn around. He merely gave a faint hum through his nose.

Mikoto seemed accustomed to his