Chapter 32: Late Night Report
Itachi had been lying in his room for a full day.
He hadn't eaten at all yesterday—and not a bite today either. After two days without food, he was starving.
To his surprise, his father stood up and gently patted his shoulder.
"Sit down. I'll personally cook something delicious for you."
Itachi looked up, stunned. The stern-faced man he knew was smiling at him—genuinely smiling.
He froze, unable to rise.
All he could do was watch as his father stepped into the kitchen.
Since childhood, not once had Itachi seen his father cook.
A wave of emotion surged within him—complex, but comforting.
Relief washed over him like a tide.
He stopped me… before I did something I'd regret forever.
Itachi whispered to himself, "That's… good."
Before long, Fugaku returned with a steaming bowl of noodles.
"Eat. It's not as good as your mother's, I'm sure," he said, handing Itachi the chopsticks with a small chuckle.
Itachi looked down—it was simple soup noodles, topped only with a poached egg and some chopped green onions. Humble. Plain.
"I'll eat," he replied softly, accepting the chopsticks and beginning to slurp the noodles.
The flavor was just as ordinary as the appearance—far inferior to Mikoto's fragrant Ise Udon.
And yet, with every bite, Itachi's vision blurred.
Tears welled up in his eyes.
"Father… I'm sorry," he choked out, voice muffled behind a mouthful of noodles.
"Hm?" Fugaku tilted his head, confused.
Did I put in too much salt? I only used a pinch. Why's he crying?
He watched as tear after tear dropped into the bowl.
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry, Father. I almost made a huge mistake. If you hadn't stopped me…"
This time, his words were clearer. He had already swallowed the noodles.
Fugaku paused. He stared at Itachi's tear-streaked face.
This boy is only twelve…
Yes, Itachi was just a child.
In his past life, children that age were still carefree, laughing over cartoons and games—how could one so young be expected to carry the weight of a clan?
Fugaku smiled gently, placed his hand on Itachi's head, and ruffled his hair.
"It's alright. Nothing happened, right?"
"Mm..."
The tears continued to fall, soaking into the bowl of noodles, blending with the broth.
Just then, Mikoto and Naruto emerged from the bathroom.
Refreshed and squeaky clean, Naruto danced around in the brand-new pajamas Mikoto had prepared for him, buzzing with joy.
"These clothes are awesome! Thank you, Aunt Mikoto!"
Mikoto helped him fasten the last button and smiled warmly.
"I'm glad you like them, sweetheart."
Noticing the emotional moment between father and son, Mikoto quietly guided Naruto past the living room and upstairs, leaving them alone.
Fugaku saw it all and sighed softly.
She's so thoughtful. I'm going to cry.
Then a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Whoever marries her is blessed for eight lifetimes. Oh wait—it's me. Never mind.
By now, Itachi's emotions had calmed. Embarrassed, he quickly wiped his face, ate a few more bites, and stood up.
"I'm done eating."
He retreated into the kitchen to finish the rest in private, drinking the soup and setting the bowl down with care. Then, without a word, he headed upstairs.
Fugaku chuckled and leaned back on the couch, stretching comfortably.
The dark cloud hanging over Itachi—his dangerous intent—was gone. It really was a happy ending for everyone.
He allowed himself a satisfied smile.
He glanced at the clock.
It was late—time to get some rest.
A good day deserves a proper celebration, he thought.
His mind drifted to certain inappropriate memories of Mikoto's soft, boneless figure from the previous night.
Feeling his body respond, he stood up and strolled toward the bathroom for a quick shower.
---
Meanwhile — In the forest outside Konoha.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
Three masked figures landed silently on the massive branch of an ancient tree.
At the front stood a man with windswept silver hair beneath a sleek fox mask.
"Did you catch him?" Kakashi's voice was calm and cold.
"...Apologies, Captain. One escaped," a subordinate replied, bowing his head.
Kakashi frowned slightly, then exhaled and waved it off.
"No matter. The information's out now anyway."
He glanced at the body nearby.
"You two bring the spy's corpse back. Hand it to the Intelligence Division."
Without another word, he vanished into the night.
The two masked ANBU nodded silently to each other and disappeared.
Only a bloodstain remained, faint beneath the moonlight.
---
Back at the Uchiha Compound
Clan Head's House — Second Floor Master Bedroom
On the bed, Mikoto gave a flustered gasp and batted away Fugaku's roaming hand.
"The kids aren't asleep yet!"
She shot him a warning glare—but her eyes sparkled with mischief.
Fugaku grinned, clearly unaffected.
"They won't hear anything…"
Just as he moved in, the sound of two taps struck the window.
Knock, knock.
Mikoto yelped softly and quickly wrapped herself in the blanket, adjusting her nightgown.
Fugaku, frustrated at the interruption, stomped to the window, threw back the curtain—
and was met with silver hair fluttering in the wind.
His eyelid twitched.
He opened the window with clear irritation.
"What is it, this late?"
Kakashi, unfazed, delivered his report with professional poise.
"Hokage-sama, tonight three spies infiltrated the village. Two were captured but committed suicide via poison. One escaped."
Fugaku raised a brow, unimpressed.
"That's it?"
Kakashi's face didn't change.
Fugaku sighed, waving his hand.
"Fine. Did you send the bodies to the Yamanaka?"
"Yes. They're with the Intelligence Division now."
In the ninja world, even corpses had stories to tell.
And no one could read them better than Konoha's Yamanaka Clan.
"Good. Next time, you don't need to wake me for such small matters. Use your judgment."
Kakashi gave a short nod—and vanished from the window like a ghost.
Fugaku closed the window, drew the curtains shut, and turned back toward the bed with a wicked grin.
Mikoto blushed at his expression and gave him a teasing glare—
but then slowly lifted the blanket to invite him in.
---
Tens of thousands of words omitted below...
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