In Naruto, I Have an Affair with Mikoto and Kushina

Once he reached the main house, he moved cautiously, listening for any signs of life. Silence. He slipped inside, stepping carefully across the wooden floors. He had to be sure Mikoto was alone.

After a few minutes of observation, it was clear—she was the only one here.

She sat in the dimly lit room, lost in thought, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of a tea cup. Her expression was distant, conflicted. Souta removed the ring, feeling the cool rush of air as his body reappeared. He took a single step forward.

"Mikoto."

She gasped, spinning around so fast she nearly knocked over the tea cup. Her eyes widened in sheer disbelief, then shifted into panic.

"What—" Her voice caught in her throat. "What are you doing here?"

Souta smirked slightly, tilting his head. "You weren't coming to me, so I came to you."

Mikoto pushed herself up, immediately rushing to him, lowering her voice to a sharp whisper. "Do you have any idea what you've done? If someone finds you here—!"

Her heart pounded against her ribs. This was reckless. Beyond reckless. If anyone caught him, there would be no discussion, no mercy. The Uchiha didn't tolerate intrusions, and sneaking into the home of the patriarch's wife was an unforgivable offense.

"You need to leave," she hissed, grabbing his wrist. "Now."

Souta didn't budge. Instead, he reached for her, grasping her wrist in return before twisting, pinning her gently against the wooden wall behind her. Her breath hitched. His grip wasn't tight—she could break free in an instant if she wanted to. But she didn't move.

Her cheeks flushed, red creeping up her neck as his golden eyes locked onto hers.

"Why are you avoiding me?" His voice was low, unwavering. "You didn't come to the tea shop. You didn't pass by the river. You think that'll make me stop?"

Mikoto swallowed hard, her thoughts scattered. "Souta, this is dangerous."

"I know."

"Then why—"

"Because I don't care about danger." His voice was firm, but there was something deeper beneath it. Something that made her stomach tighten. "I care about you."

Mikoto's lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She could hear the rapid pounding of her own heart, feel the heat of his touch even through the thin fabric of her sleeve. This was a mistake. A terrible, dangerous mistake.

And yet, she couldn't bring herself to pull away.

Souta's voice softened as he leaned in slightly. "Every time I see you, I can tell when you're holding back. When you smile at others, it's never the same as when you smile at me." His eyes traced over her face, taking in the conflict dancing in her expression. "You try to act like you're fine, like everything is perfect. But I see through it."

Mikoto's throat tightened. "That's not true."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Liar."

Her breath hitched as he lifted a hand, fingers grazing her cheek gently. "Tell me, Mikoto… when was the last time you were truly happy?"

She opened her mouth, but the answer didn't come. Because the truth was… she didn't know. Not until recently. Not until—

"I see it," Souta whispered. "That light in your eyes when you're with me. That happiness. You can deny it all you want, but I won't."

Mikoto's fingers trembled at her sides. The rational part of her screamed at her to push him away, to end this before it could spiral further. But the other part—the part that had been suffocating in silence, in duty, in expectations—wanted nothing more than to stay.

Souta leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me to leave, Mikoto. If you truly want me gone, say the words."

Her lips parted… but the words never came.

Instead, a shuddering breath escaped her as she stepped forward, pressing her forehead against his chest. Her hands clenched into the fabric of his clothes, gripping tightly as she finally let go of the weight she had been carrying.

Tears welled in her eyes before spilling over, silent but relentless.

Souta's eyes softened as he felt the warmth of her against him. Slowly, carefully, he lifted his arms, wrapping them around her trembling frame. "It's okay," he murmured, his voice gentle. "You don't have to say anything."

Mikoto buried her face into his chest, her body shaking as she cried, all the emotions she had buried for so long spilling free.

Souta held her close, his hand resting against the small of her back as her quiet sobs shook her frame. He didn't rush her, didn't speak—he simply let her be, let her pour out everything she had kept bottled up for so long.

After a while, her trembling eased, and her breaths became steadier. She pulled back slightly, just enough to lift her head and meet his gaze. Her eyes, red and glistening with unshed tears, searched his face as if trying to find an answer to a question she couldn't put into words.

Souta lifted a hand, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Mikoto," he murmured, his voice low and tender. "You don't have to hide from me."

Her lips parted, but no words came. Instead, she simply looked at him, something deep and unspoken passing between them.

Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, she leaned in.

Souta didn't hesitate. He met her halfway, his lips capturing hers in a slow, deliberate kiss. It wasn't rushed, wasn't desperate—it was filled with all the emotions they had left unsaid. All the longing, all the silent confessions neither had dared to speak.

Mikoto melted against him, her fingers tightening in his clothes as she gave in to the moment—to him. For the first time, she wasn't thinking about duty, about consequences. She was just here, with him, feeling something real.

When they finally pulled apart, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them, Souta rested his forehead against hers.

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered. "Not unless you truly want me to."

"We shouldn't, Souta..." she murmured, even as she leaned deeper into him.

Her body trembled, and before she could stop herself, she buried her face against his chest. The weight of everything—her feelings, her fears—came crashing down all at once. A quiet sob escaped her lips, and then another, until she was shaking in his arms, unable to hold back the emotions she had buried for so long.

And for the first time in years, she allowed herself to be vulnerable.

Then, a sharp sound shattered the moment—a door creaking open nearby.