Late-Night Report

He had been lying in his room all day; he hadn't eaten yesterday, and he hadn't eaten today either. Having starved for two days, his stomach had long since been pressed flat against his spine.

Who would have thought his father would stand up and pat his shoulder. "You sit, I'll go cook you something good myself."

Itachi looked up in astonishment, watching his usually stern father flash him a brilliant smile.

Too surprised to even get up.

He watched blankly as his father walked into the kitchen.

Ever since he was old enough to remember, this was the first time he had ever seen his father enter the kitchen.

Itachi's emotions were terribly complicated, filled with both touched gratitude and lingering relief.

Relief that his father had stopped him before he took that final step.

"It's really nice."

Itachi murmured, his heart filled with lingering fear.

Not long after, his father came out carrying a steaming bowl of dishes.

"Eat up, it might not be as delicious as what your mother makes."

Takuya handed him chopsticks and said with a cheerful smile.

Itachi looked down. It was just a very ordinary bowl of noodle soup, with a poached egg dropped inside, sprinkled with a bit of chopped scallion, and nothing else.

Simple beyond simplicity.

"I'll dig in."

Itachi silently accepted the chopsticks from his father and shoveled noodles into his mouth.

The taste was also very average, just as his father had said—far worse than the udon noodles his mother made.

Yet it was precisely this bowl of noodles, ordinary to the extreme, that caused Itachi's eyes to redden as he ate.

"Father, I'm sorry."

Itachi choked out, his words somewhat slurred because he was still chewing noodles.

"Huh?"

Seeing him mutter, Takuya thought he had put too much salt in.

That's not right, though; I only put in a tiny pinch. Is it really that salty? He's even crying?

Seeing the tears dripping into the bowl, Takuya scratched his head, completely at a loss for the situation.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Father. I almost committed a grave mistake. Good thing you stopped me."

This time, after swallowing the noodles in his mouth, Itachi spoke much more clearly.

Takuya froze slightly. Seeing Itachi's face covered in tears, crying like a child, a strange warmth stirred in his heart. That's right, Itachi was fundamentally still a child; at twelve years old, in his past life, he would have been nothing more than an underage kid.

In his previous life, children Itachi's age were innocent and carefree. How could they possibly be like Itachi, bearing so many things that didn't belong on their shoulders?

Takuya smiled and patted his head. "It's fine. None of it happened, did it?"

"Mm..."

Itachi's tears poured out like they were free, streaming down the two tear troughs on his face and dripping into the bowl.

At that moment, Mikoto and Naruto came out of the bathroom.

With Mikoto's help, Naruto looked brand-new after his bath, excitedly wearing the brand-new pajamas Mikoto had prepared for him, dancing around with joy.

"These clothes are so cool! Thank you, Aunt Mikoto!"

Mikoto dressed him gently with a smile on her face. "If you like them, Auntie is happy too!"

She then took Naruto by the hand into the living room. Noticing the atmosphere between the father and son, she paused for a moment, but didn't stop, leading the shouting and hollering Naruto upstairs.

Leaving the space to the father and son.

She's truly an angel, I'm crying to death!

Recognizing Mikoto's thoughtfulness, Takuya smiled and shook his head.

Whoever married her must have accumulated blessings for eight lifetimes—ah, wait, that's me. Never mind.

By now, Itachi's churning emotions had gradually settled. Feeling embarrassed, he hastily wiped away his tears, wolfed down a couple of bites, and stood up to head toward the kitchen.

"I'm done."

He hid in the kitchen, finished the noodles and drank the soup, then set the bowl down. Emerging from the kitchen, he went straight up the stairs from the side without lingering.

Takuya chuckled and slumped back down on the couch in a lazy sprawl.

The hidden danger of his convenient son was gone, which could truly be called a happy ending all around.

Takuya wore a satisfied smile.

He glanced at the time; it was getting late, and it was time to rest.

Ah, good things happened today; he needed to turn in early and celebrate properly.

Thinking of Uchiha Mikoto's soft, boneless, and utterly bewitching demeanor from last night—along with all those scenes unsuitable for children—he couldn't help but twitch with excitement, turning to head into the bathroom for a shower.

Meanwhile, a certain patch of woods outside Konoha Village.

Swish, swish, swish!

Three athletic figures appeared on the trunk of a massive tree that required two people to embrace, the leader wearing a striking fox mask.

Silver hair fluttered in the wind.

"Did you catch them?"

Kakashi's voice was calm as water.

"Sorry, Captain. We let him get away."

An ANBU member lowered his head in shame.

Kakashi frowned, then relaxed his expression and waved a hand. "Forget it, if he ran, he ran. The news couldn't be kept under wraps anyway."

"I'll go report to the Fifth Hokage. You guys take the spy's corpse back and hand it over to the Intelligence Investigation Bureau."

Dropping those words, Kakashi vanished on the spot.

The remaining two masked ANBU members exchanged glances and similarly vanished from the tree trunk.

A gust of wind blew past, as if nothing had happened at all, but a pool of blood on the ground silently told a different story.

The Uchiha Compound, the Clan Head's residence.

The second-floor master bedroom.

On the bed.

Mikoto slapped away a pair of unruly claws pressing against her chest and said, "The children haven't even fallen asleep yet!"

She cast a bewitching, reproachful glare at Takuya.

Right now, Takuya's lower half had entirely hijacked his brain; how could he care about any of that?

"It's fine, it's fine, they can't hear us."

Just as Takuya prepared to make a further move, the window was suddenly knocked twice.

Startled, Mikoto hurriedly straightened her pajamas and pulled the quilt up to cover herself.

Interrupted and denied good times, Takuya walked to the window with an expression of displeasure, pulled back the curtain, and saw a patch of dazzling silver hair fluttering in the wind.

Takuya's mouth twitched a few times. Oh, brother.

Unhappily, he pushed the window open and said, "What happened? In the middle of the night?"

Yet Kakashi acted as if he hadn't noticed the displeasure written all over Takuya's face, reporting rigidly, "Lord Hokage, spies attempted to escape tonight. There were three of them; two were caught and committed suicide by poison, and one got away."

Takuya nodded, casting a sidelong glance at Kakashi.

His gaze practically asked: That's it?

Kakashi remained expressionless.

Takuya conceded defeat, waving a hand. "Alright, I get it. If he got away, let him go, it doesn't matter. The bodies were sent to the Yamanaka Clan, right?"

"Yes, they should have already been delivered to the Intelligence Collection Division."

In the Naruto World, even from dead bodies, there were ways to extract desired information.

Among them, Konoha's Yamanaka Clan excelled particularly at this art.

Members of the Yamanaka Clan specialized in controlling the minds of enemies, able to invade and read the memories of the deceased.

"Mm, that's fine. You don't need to report such trifles to me; you can make your own decisions."

Takuya waved a hand.

Kakashi nodded slightly and vanished from the window with a swish.

Only then did Takuya close the window, draw the curtains, and walk back toward Mikoto with a grinning face.

Watching her somewhat improper husband, Mikoto shot him a reproachful look and took the initiative to pull back the quilt.

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