...
The night deepened, the lantern flickering as Kushina ladled a steaming bowl of curry in front of him, her smirk daring him to complain. "Go on," she said, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. "One bite, and you'll be begging me to move in."
Souta raised an eyebrow, spoon halfway to his mouth. "Big talk, Kushina. Hope it lives up to the hype." He took a bite, the heat hitting fast—spicy, rich, with a kick that made his eyes water but didn't overwhelm. He chewed slowly, letting her stew in anticipation, then nodded. "Alright, damn. You win. This is good."
Her grin was triumphant, her hands planting on her hips. "Told you. Stick with me, and you'll eat like a king." She paused, then added, softer, "Just… don't pull that disappearing act again, okay? I don't like it."
Souta met her eyes. "Promise," he said. The meter—36% last he'd checked—felt like it could climb higher, especially with the way she was looking at him now, softer, less guarded.
She snorted, her smile warm but fleeting, and turned to grab a bowl for herself. "Good. 'Cause I'm not chasing you down again." She sat across from him, digging into her curry, but her movements slowed, her eyes growing distant.
"Hey," he said, leaning forward, setting his spoon down. "You said 'mostly me' earlier. What's the rest of it? Something bothering you Kushina?"
She hesitated, her spoon stirring the curry absently, then sighed, her shoulders slumping. "It's the village," she said, her voice low, almost a whisper. "Things are… bad, Souta. The Uchiha—they're under more pressure than ever."
"The Uchiha," he said, keeping his tone even. "How bad we talking?"
"Bad enough that people are whispering about rebellion," she said.
Kushina's lips pressed into a thin line, and she looked away, her fingers tightening around her spoon. "I'm meeting Mikoto tomorrow. Secretly." She glanced at him, her voice dropping lower. "We can't meet openly right now. Too many eyes, too much suspicion. The Uchiha are being watched, and anyone tied to them is under scrutiny. Even me."
"Mikoto," Souta repeated. He hadn't seen her in weeks, hadn't checked in, and the guilt gnawed at him. "You two are friends right?, soo.. why secretly?"
"Because the village doesn't trust the Uchiha, and they're starting to not trust anyone close to them," she said, her tone bitter. "Mikoto's my friend, but meeting her openly could put us both in a bad spot. We're keeping it quiet, meeting outside the village, away from prying eyes. Just to talk, to figure out how to keep things from getting worse."
Souta leaned back, processing. Then he looked at Kushina, her eyes fierce but tired, and an idea sparked. "Let me come with you," he said, the words out before he could second-guess them. "To meet Mikoto. I want to help, Kushina. I owe you that much, and… I need to see her too."
Her eyes widened, surprise flashing across her face. "You? Tag along?" She studied him, her gaze searching, like she was weighing his sincerity. "It's not a casual meetup, Souta. It's risky. If someone spots us—"
"I can handle risky," he cut in, his voice firm. "I know how to keep a low profile. Let me back you up." He leaned forward, his hand brushing hers on the table. "Please, Kushina."
She stared at him, her expression softening, and for a moment. Then she nodded, a small, reluctant smile tugging at her lips. "Fine," she said, her voice quieter. "You can come. But you better not slow me down, jerk. And don't make me regret this."
"Wouldn't dream of it," he said, grinning, his hand lingering on hers a second longer before pulling back.
Kushina stood, stretching, then paused, her eyes catching on his hair—messy, sticking out from their earlier chaos. "Hold still," she said, stepping close, her hands moving to his head before he could protest. Her fingers worked through his hair, smoothing it down, her touch gentle but firm, like she was fixing more than just his appearance. "You can't go out looking like you just fought a tornado," she muttered, her cheeks faintly pink as she focused on her task.
Souta stayed still, his grin softening as he watched her, the warmth of her hands sending a quiet jolt through him. "Thanks, Kushina," he said, voice low, catching her eyes as she finished.
She stepped back, brushing her hands on her pants, her flush deepening. "Yeah, whatever," she muttered, turning toward the door. A small, genuine smile flickered across her face. "Get some sleep. We're leaving early tomorrow. Don't be late, or I'm leaving you behind."
"Wouldn't miss it," Souta called after her, leaning against the counter as she stepped over the wreckage of his door. She glanced back once, her crimson hair catching the lantern light, then disappeared into the night with a soft "Bye," her voice quieter than usual.
Souta stood alone in the now-silent kitchen, the faint scent of curry lingering in the air. His hand brushed through his hair where her fingers had grazed, and he felt that meter in his mind tick higher—40%, maybe more.
As her footsteps faded, he slowly cracked his neck. The plan's going well, he thought, a smirk tugging at his lips. It wouldn't be surprising if a fight breaks out between Fugaku and the village. Not that I care. If it happens, both Minato and Fugaku will take a hit, and that just makes things easier. He thought, his eyes glinting in the dim light.
The morning sun barely breached the horizon, painting Konoha's outskirts in a faint wash of gold. Souta stood by his splintered front door, lacing his boots, the chill of early spring nipping at his knuckles.
A flash of crimson cut through the trees, and Kushina strode into view, her hair wild in the dawn light, her steps brisk. She wore a dark green tunic and pants, practical but tight enough to hint at her curves, a kunai pouch strapped to her thigh. Her eyes locked onto him, narrowing as she stopped a few feet away, hands on her hips.
"You're not late," she said, sounding almost disappointed, like she'd hoped to ditch him. "Good. Let's move. We've got a hike, and I'm not slowing down for you."