Uchiha Mikoto

The school bell rang, and Kiyoshi headed out with his schoolbag on his back.

He wasn't going to the hill behind the school today. Yesterday's ramen had left him broke, with only a few coins in his pocket. He needed to be careful with his spending. He planned to get home early and see if he could find anything to eat in the kitchen.

When he reached the school gate, he saw a woman standing outside.

Uchiha Mikoto.

She wore a deep purple kimono, her long hair loose down her back, and stood beside a cherry tree with a cloth bag in her hand.

She wasn't dressed as a ninja. She looked like an ordinary mother picking her child up from school.

But there was something so composed about her that anyone could tell at a glance she was no ordinary person.

Sasuke hadn't come out yet. Kiyoshi had seen him in the hallway, packing his things slowly and dragging his feet.

Kiyoshi lowered his head a little, hoping to slip out through the side gate.

"Kiyoshi."

He froze.

Mikoto had already spotted him and beckoned him over.

The gesture was casual and natural, as though she were calling over someone she knew.

Kiyoshi had no choice but to approach. He stood straight and bowed slightly. "Hello, Aunt Mikoto."

His hands rested naturally at his sides, his back perfectly straight, his eyes level as he spoke. His Uchiha etiquette couldn't have been more impeccable.

Misa had drilled it into him when he was little, telling him, "You mustn't disgrace the Uchiha when you're out in public."

Mikoto glanced at him, a flicker of surprise in her eyes.

"You know me?"

"I saw you at a clan meeting once."

He had actually seen her on a screen in his previous life. But he had indeed caught a glimpse of her from a distance at a clan meeting in this life, so it wasn't a lie.

Mikoto nodded without pressing him. She looked him up and down, her gaze lingering on his face for a second.

"You really don't have to be so formal. You're only six. Why act like a grown-up?"

Kiyoshi kept his face expressionless. "I'm used to it."

Mikoto smiled without saying anything.

Footsteps sounded in the distance. Sasuke had finally come out. With his schoolbag on his back, he walked at an unhurried pace, then faltered when he saw Kiyoshi standing beside his mother.

"Mom."

"Sasuke, your classmate was just saying hello to me. Why don't you introduce him?"

Sasuke looked at Kiyoshi, then at his mother, his expression a little awkward.

"...His name is Uchiha Kiyoshi. We're in the same class."

"Is that all?"

"What else is there?"

Mikoto smiled again. She turned to Kiyoshi. "Kiyoshi, how does Sasuke do at school?"

Kiyoshi went quiet for a second and thought it over. "Pretty well. He pays attention in class and works hard at his Taijutsu training."

Sasuke blinked, as though he hadn't expected Kiyoshi to say that.

Mikoto smiled at Sasuke's reaction.

"Kiyoshi, where do you live?"

"On the eastern side of the compound, near the Naka River."

"That's on our way. Let's walk together."

Kiyoshi couldn't refuse.

The three of them walked through the Uchiha Clan Compound.

Mikoto walked in the middle, with Sasuke on her left and Kiyoshi on her right.

As the Uchiha along either side of the road spotted Mikoto, some nodded in greeting, while others stopped to bow.

Mikoto acknowledged each of them with the easy manner of someone who had spent years as the clan head's wife.

Walking beside her, Kiyoshi could feel their gazes. Some were looking at Mikoto, and some at him. He heard people whispering.

"That's Bro Hao?"

"He looks pretty normal."

"Did you hear? At school, he said, 'I'm doing you all a favor by letting you call me Bro Hao.'"

"Seriously?"

Kiyoshi kept his face blank and pretended not to hear.

Mikoto said nothing either, but the corner of her mouth twitched. She was smiling.

After they had walked a little farther, Mikoto spoke. "You're quite well-known at school now. I've heard a lot about you."

Kiyoshi maintained his deadpan expression. "...Yeah."

"Sasuke mentions you a lot, too."

Kiyoshi faltered and shot Sasuke a quick glance. Sasuke talks about me?

Sasuke's face turned red.

"I do not!"

"You were talking about him over dinner just last weekend. 'Kiyoshi did really well in Taijutsu class,' 'Kiyoshi memorizes material really fast,' 'Kiyoshi's blank face makes me want to punch him'-"

"Mom!"

Sasuke flushed all the way to his ears and quickened his pace, as though he couldn't wait to leave them behind.

Mikoto laughed and said no more.

Kiyoshi walked in silence, digesting this information. Sasuke talked about me at dinner?

More than once, too? He had thought Sasuke disliked him in class. He hadn't expected him to talk about him at home.

He pressed his lips together and said nothing.

At a fork in the road, Mikoto stopped.

"Kiyoshi, come over for dinner sometime when you're free. I've already spoken to your parents."

Kiyoshi was taken aback. "...Okay."

"No need to be so polite. Just tell me what you'd like to eat."

"Okay."

Mikoto nodded and led Sasuke away by the hand. After walking a short distance, Sasuke glanced back at Kiyoshi with a complicated expression. It was hard to tell whether he didn't want him to come or didn't mind if he did.

Kiyoshi stood where he was, watching them leave.

Mikoto's tone had been perfectly natural, as though she really were just inviting a neighbor's child over for dinner. But there was something more in the way she looked at him than there would have been with an ordinary child.

He couldn't say what it was.

But it definitely wasn't as simple as being "on our way."

When he got home, Misa was already cooking.

"You're back? Why so late today?"

"I ran into Aunt Mikoto on the way and talked to her for a bit."

Misa's hand paused over the stir-fry, and she looked back at him. "The clan head's wife?"

"Yeah."

"What did she want with you?"

"She was picking Sasuke up from school and invited me over for dinner sometime."

Misa went quiet for a while, then resumed cooking. Oil sizzled in the wok. She tossed the vegetables a few times before speaking. "Why would she suddenly invite you over for dinner?"

"She said it was on her way and wanted to get to know me."

"On her way?" Misa scooped the vegetables onto a plate, brought it to the table, and wiped her hands. "The clan head's house is in the east. Ours is in the west. How is that on her way?"

Kiyoshi froze for a moment.

He hadn't considered that. Mikoto had said it was on her way, and he had believed her. But now that he thought about it, it really wasn't.

The main road was the shortest route from the Ninja Academy to the clan head's house. Detouring toward the Naka River added another ten minutes.

Seeing his stunned expression, Misa didn't press him. She only said, "Just go. Don't overthink it."

Kiyoshi wanted to say, "I'm not overthinking it," but swallowed the words before they left his mouth. He really was thinking about it.

"Okay."

Kiyoshi went into his room, shut the door, set his schoolbag on the desk, and sat on the edge of the bed, looking out the window. The orange-red light of sunset streamed in, washing the floor in warm colors.

He remembered the way Mikoto had looked at him.

That hadn't been the way someone looked at an ordinary child.

And then there was her claim that it was "on our way."

The clan head's wife had deliberately taken a detour to pick up her son from school, then walked a child from a branch family home because it was "on her way," and even invited him over for dinner.

Had it really been a spur-of-the-moment whim, or had she wanted to see him all along?

He lay down, tucked his hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling.

He couldn't figure it out.

But Mikoto was more complicated than he had imagined.

Mikoto led Sasuke farther away, turned the corner, and stopped.

She crouched down to meet Sasuke's eyes and was silent for a moment before speaking. "Sasuke, you should spend more time with that boy, Kiyoshi."

Her voice was a little softer than before, as though she meant more than simply telling him to make a friend.

Sasuke looked up at her. He said nothing, but nodded.

Mikoto stood, took his hand, and continued walking without looking back.