Uchiha Tsukiko pushed open the heavy wooden door of Mikoto's house with far too much energy. Her shoes flew off in the entryway and hit the floor with a sharp clatter, one sliding sideways and the other nearly tipping over a basket by the wall. She did not even stop to fix them. Still wearing her backpack, she rushed into the familiar house like a red storm that had finally found its way home.
"Auntie! I'm back safe and sound! Your adorable Tsukiko has returned and urgently needs affection and food!"
Her lively voice filled the house before anyone could respond. By the time the last word left her mouth, she had already thrown herself forward and latched onto Mikoto, who was sitting by the low table on the veranda with a cup of tea in hand. Tsukiko clung to her like a koala, wrapping herself around Mikoto with complete confidence, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.
Mikoto had only just set down her teacup. She had not even had the chance to greet her before that warm little body crashed into her arms. She leaned back slightly from the force, but her hands moved gently at once, one resting on Tsukiko's head and the other steadying her shoulder.
"Oh my, slow down," Mikoto said with a soft laugh. "You just came back from a mission. Were you hurt anywhere?"
"Hehe, of course not," Tsukiko said proudly, burying her face against Mikoto's neck and breathing in the familiar scent of sandalwood and clean cloth. "I'm protected by destiny itself. Nothing can happen to me. But the mosquitoes outside were vicious. They nearly carried me away. I missed Auntie's tempura so much that I came back at top speed."
She rubbed her cheek against Mikoto like a spoiled cat. The moment was so shamelessly cozy that it would have looked outrageous to anyone who did not already know her.
Then a deliberate cough sounded from the side.
"Ahem."
Only then did Tsukiko slowly lift her head and glance sideways.
Uchiha Fugaku was sitting nearby in the place of honor, as upright and serious as ever. His expression was calm, controlled, and unreadable, but the way his fingers were laced together made it clear that he was enduring something with great effort. He looked like a man fighting to preserve the dignity of a clan while a small natural disaster stole his wife's attention right in front of him.
"You're back," Fugaku said.
"Yo, Clan Head Uncle," Tsukiko replied casually, waving one hand without even sitting up properly. She still leaned half her body against Mikoto as if the seat belonged to her by right. "Just returned from duty? Must be hard being so important all the time."
The corner of Fugaku's eye twitched.
He looked at the girl clinging to his wife without the slightest shame, and for some reason the rumor about Danzo's humiliation in the meeting room surfaced in his mind again. He had heard different versions already. Some were clearly exaggerated, but all of them were absurd enough to make even the sternest elder feel speechless.
During the silence, Tsukiko looked completely at home.
Fugaku finally asked, "Did anything unusual happen during your mission?"
Tsukiko blinked. Orochimaru's pale face flashed through her mind for only a second, but her expression did not change. Instead, she answered smoothly, "Something unusual? Yes. I saw a poisonous mushroom on the roadside that looked exactly like Danzo. I stepped on it, and immediately the world felt much brighter."
Mikoto could not help it. A soft laugh escaped her lips before she covered her mouth.
Fugaku went quiet for a full three seconds.
Then he lowered his head, picked up his tea, and drank it as if the act of ignoring her was the only way to keep peace within the house.
"Nonsense," he said at last. "Since you're back, wash your hands and prepare for dinner."
"Understood, Clan Head!" Tsukiko said, saluting him with exaggerated seriousness.
Then she leaned closer to Mikoto and whispered in a voice loud enough for Fugaku to hear every single word.
"Auntie, where's Itachi? I even brought him a little gift from Tanzaku Street. A kunai pendant. I was going to praise him if he had made progress."
Mikoto's eyes curved with amusement. "Itachi went out this afternoon. Izumi came to the gate and asked him to go see the flowers near the upper stream of the Naka River. They probably won't be back yet."
Tsukiko stroked her chin like a thoughtful old master. "I see. Good. Very good. That boy is finally learning. It seems my secret lessons are working."
Fugaku looked up again. "What exactly have you been teaching him?"
"What do you mean exactly?" Tsukiko said, sitting up straighter at once. Her tone became serious, as if they were discussing the future of the village. "I'm teaching him survival skills. Emotional survival skills. If Itachi grows up with only your example, Uncle, the clan will lose generations of romantic potential."
Mikoto turned away and laughed into her sleeve.
Fugaku's face tightened. "Itachi is the heir of the Uchiha. He is not supposed to waste his mind on trivial matters."
"How is this trivial?" Tsukiko protested at once. "This is for the prosperity and future of the clan. A strong bloodline doesn't continue itself through stern expressions and long speeches. It requires timing, atmosphere, and proper understanding between people. I'm protecting the next generation."
Then she looked at Fugaku with complete sincerity and added the final blow.
"Frankly, the fact that someone as stiff as you managed to marry Aunt Mikoto is already one of the greatest miracles in clan history."
Mikoto nearly dropped her fan.
Fugaku looked as if he had been hit in the face by a spiritual attack. He wanted to scold her, but arguing with a seven-year-old about romance felt even more humiliating than staying silent. In the end, he gave a cold snort, rose from his seat, and turned to face the garden with the air of a man who had seen enough.
Mikoto smiled helplessly and touched Tsukiko's cheek. "That's enough. Go help set the table. We have tempura today, and I also made red bean soup."
Tsukiko's face lit up at once. "Long live Auntie!"
Before anyone could stop her, she gave Mikoto a quick kiss on the cheek. Then, under Fugaku's darkening gaze, she ran toward the kitchen like a red flash.
Just before crossing the threshold, she looked back and called out cheerfully, "Uncle, when Itachi comes back, remember to tell him that if Izumi's hands get cold, he should take the hint and help her. Don't let him stand there like a tree stump just looking at flowers!"
Fugaku's shoulders shook once.
Tsukiko disappeared into the kitchen before he could respond.
The kitchen was full of warmth and the rich smell of fresh food. Oil crackled softly. A tray of newly fried shrimp tempura rested beside the stove, golden and perfect. Tsukiko immediately reached out with criminal intent.
Mikoto entered a second later and gently slapped her hand away.
"Did you wash your hands?"
Tsukiko drew back dramatically. "Cruel. Truly cruel."
"I knew this would happen," Mikoto said, though her smile was far too soft to sound scolding. "Go wash first, then carry the dishes out."
"Yes, Commander Mikoto, the gentlest commander in all of Konoha."
Tsukiko went to wash up obediently. As cool water ran over her fingers, her mind relaxed a little. Teasing Fugaku always gave her a ridiculous amount of satisfaction. Watching the mighty Uchiha clan head silently endure her nonsense while Mikoto pampered her was one of the great joys of life.
When dinner was finally set, the low table looked perfect. The tempura was crisp and golden. The red bean soup was sweet and fragrant. Steam rose into the warm light, and for a while the whole house felt calm and peaceful.
Tsukiko ate with complete focus for several minutes before remembering to speak again.
"Auntie, do you think Uncle was really angry about what I said? He left so fast that I almost thought he was going to the river to catch Itachi and Izumi in the act."
Mikoto served her another bowl of red bean soup. "No. He's just thin-skinned. Fugaku is actually happy to see Itachi spend time like an ordinary child. He just carries too much responsibility. He always feels that if he is not serious, he is failing the clan."
Tsukiko scooped up a mouthful of soup. "That sounds exhausting."
"It is," Mikoto said gently.
Tsukiko nodded, then grinned. "Still, if Itachi really brings Izumi home one day, you must stand with me. We'll need to create proper opportunities for them."
"You child," Mikoto said, shaking her head with a smile. "How old are you to be worrying about this?"
"Old enough to see disaster coming if no one intervenes," Tsukiko declared. "Some people need guidance."
While the house stayed warm and peaceful, far away in a dark underground laboratory, a very different scene unfolded.
Orochimaru stood beneath dim light, staring at a slender glass tube filled with a trace of crimson blood.
"Is this that child's blood…" he murmured.
His golden eyes reflected the pale glow of the instruments around him. The sample had reached him through a secret method arranged with Tsukiko. Compared with the half-rotted remains and bitter leftovers Danzo had once provided, this blood was completely different. It was full of vitality, clean chakra, and strange possibility.
Orochimaru licked his lips slowly.
"That old fool wanted to dispose of a treasure like this," he said with quiet fascination. "What a waste."
He opened a scroll that had arrived from Danzo. It contained secret instructions to continue observing Uchiha Tsukiko and capture her if the chance appeared.
Without hesitation, Orochimaru tossed the scroll into a nearby flame.
The paper curled, blackened, and turned to ash.
At that moment, Orochimaru completely shifted his priority away from Danzo.
Compared with a bitter old man obsessed with control, Tsukiko was far more valuable. She brought him fresh samples, dangerous ideas, and knowledge that stirred his curiosity in a way Danzo never could.
"The theory of Yin and Yang balance…" Orochimaru murmured, already drifting back into thought. "Interesting. Very interesting."
Then he turned away from the fire and returned to his research.
Back at Mikoto's house, Tsukiko had eaten until her stomach was round. She lay on the tatami with no concern for dignity, one hand on her belly, staring at the ceiling as if she had achieved enlightenment.
"I've come back to life," she announced. "Auntie, I'm sleeping here tonight. I refuse to go home and listen to Mother lecture me about training the moment I walk in."
Mikoto already seemed prepared for this. She opened a cupboard and began taking out fresh bedding. "Your mother only wants what is best for you. But if you want to stay, then stay. Go take a bath first. There's a new kimono in the cupboard that I made for Itachi. You can wear it for tonight."
Tsukiko shot upright. "Auntie is the best!"
Before Mikoto could stop her, Tsukiko rushed in, pressed her cheek warmly against Mikoto's, and then fled toward the bath like an excited wind spirit.
Night deepened outside.
A little later, two young figures finally returned beneath the moonlight.
Itachi stepped into the entrance first, carrying a small basket of tassel flowers. Beside him walked Izumi, speaking softly about the flowers and the evening breeze, her cheeks already touched by shy happiness.
They had barely reached the door when a loud and terribly off-key song floated out from the bath.
"I am a happy little frog, ribbit ribbit ribbit, Aunt Mikoto is a flower, la la la la—"
Itachi stopped walking.
He closed his eyes for one brief second like a child already tired of fate.
Izumi's face turned bright red.
"Sister Tsukiko is here?" she asked softly.
Itachi sighed. "Yes."
There was a special kind of exhaustion in his voice that only came from repeated experience.
They entered the living room and greeted Mikoto. Fugaku had returned as well and now sat with a stack of Military Police reports before him. He glanced at his eldest son, then at Izumi, whose face was still pink, then toward the bathroom, and his brow twitched.
"Itachi," he said steadily, "pour tea for the guest. And tell the person in the bath to lower her voice. If children outside hear too many of those strange songs, it will damage the Uchiha reputation."
"Yes, Father."
Then the bath door slid open.
Tsukiko came out in a cloud of steam, rubbing her wet hair with a towel. She was wearing Itachi's black kimono, the one with the Uchiha crest on it, and it was clearly too large for her. The sleeves were long, the hem was rolled, and the collar sat a little loose, showing the pale line of her neck and collarbone still pink from the heat of the bath.
She yawned and stretched. "A bath really fixes the soul. Auntie, that shampoo smells amazing. I need some for myself—"
Then she saw them.
Her eyes lit up instantly.
"Itachi! Izumi!"
Before either of them could react, Tsukiko crossed the room in a few quick steps and dropped herself beside Izumi with the confidence of a veteran troublemaker.
"Well, well," she said, leaning in with a wicked smile. "You look beautiful tonight, Izumi. Was this for a date with our cold-faced genius? And tassel flowers too? Itachi, did you really take her straight to the flowers without saying anything meaningful?"
"Sister Tsukiko," Itachi said flatly while pouring tea, though his hand trembled just a little, "please stop talking nonsense."
Then his gaze landed on the kimono.
He paused.
"That is my kimono."
Tsukiko looked down at herself. "And? Auntie said I could wear it. Besides, let's be honest, Izumi probably thinks I look great."
Izumi waved her hands in panic. "Y-you do look nice…"
She had barely said it before her face turned even redder.
Tsukiko laughed and pinched her cheek lightly. "Such a sweet girl. Here, since you're so honest, I brought something for you."
From her sleeve she pulled out a neatly wrapped charm.
"It's a love charm from Tanzaku Street," she said seriously. "I picked it personally. With this, even a stubborn blockhead won't escape you forever."
Izumi stared in shock. "For me?"
"For you," Tsukiko said grandly.
Izumi accepted the charm like it was the most precious gift in the world.
Fugaku finally put down his report.
"Enough," he said.
His face had gone dark again.
"Uchiha Tsukiko, go change into proper sleep clothes. Immediately."
Tsukiko knew when to stop. Most of the time.
"Understood, Clan Head Uncle."
She stood up with her washbasin, then paused long enough to throw Itachi a meaningful look.
"Remember, Itachi. If you keep hesitating, I may have to take action myself."
Then she ran off, laughing, before anyone could answer.
After she disappeared, the room fell into a silence that was awkward, gentle, and strangely warm.
Mikoto looked at Itachi and Izumi with quiet fondness. "Since Tsukiko has gone to rest, Izumi, stay a little longer. There's still red bean soup left."
"Thank you, Lady Mikoto," Izumi said shyly, clutching the charm.
Itachi lifted his cup and drank tea that had already gone cool. He felt tired down to his bones from Tsukiko's chaos, yet as he looked at Izumi beside him, happy and embarrassed and glowing in her own quiet way, he had to admit something to himself.
This noisy house, this impossible girl, this ridiculous evening—
It all felt warmer than the cold training grounds he knew too well.
Then Izumi looked down at the flower in her hand, gathered her courage, and turned toward him.
"Itachi-kun," she said softly, "this is for you."
She handed him the brightest tassel flower from the basket.
Itachi blinked. "Father is still here."
"It's only a flower," Izumi whispered, though her face was glowing.
She pressed it into his hand anyway.
At that exact moment, Fugaku very conveniently turned his head toward the family photo on the wall, as if he had suddenly discovered a deep and important mystery hidden in its frame.
He did not look back.
And though no one said it aloud, the quiet warmth in that room lingered long into the night.
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