In Naruto, I Have an Affair with Mikoto and Kushina

He exhaled, amusement flickering back into his eyes.

She didn't stop walking. "It's all you're getting."

Souta chuckled, watching her retreat. "We'll see."

His fingers brushed over where her lips had been.

 ...

Mikoto didn't look back as she stepped out of the tea shop, but she felt it—his eyes still on her,

Her pace remained steady, her expression composed, but inside, her thoughts twisted in ways she didn't like.

By the time she reached the Uchiha compound, she had forced her heartbeat to steady, her breathing even. She pushed open the door to her home, stepping inside just as a small voice greeted her.

"mommm."

Itachi stood there, quiet as always, his dark eyes studying her in that way he did when he saw more than he should.

Mikoto gave him a soft smile, setting her sandals aside. "You're back from playing?"

He nodded. "I was waiting for you."

Warmth bloomed in her chest, soothing some of the lingering tension from earlier. She walked over, kneeling slightly to smooth his hair. "I'm home now. You should get some rest."

Itachi didn't move immediately. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharp despite his small frame.

"mommm," he said slowly, "your face is red."

Mikoto froze for half a heartbeat before letting out a light chuckle. "It's just a little warm outside."

Itachi studied her for a moment longer before nodding, though he didn't look entirely convinced.

Mikoto ushered him toward his room, ignoring the way her fingertips still tingled from the briefest of touches against Souta's skin.

As she lay in bed later that night, staring at the ceiling, she let out a quiet sigh.

She needed to be more careful.

And yet…

Mikoto turned onto her side, pressing her eyes shut.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to.

 ...

Souta sat alone in his room, the dim glow of a single candle casting flickering shadows against the wooden walls.

The night was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of the wind through the trees outside.

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. The day had been long, and the lingering thoughts of Mikoto still clouded his mind.

Just as he reached for his cup of tea, a sudden gust of wind swept through the room, extinguishing the candle's flame. His instincts sharpened instantly. The window creaked open, a figure slipping through with practiced ease.

Souta tensed for only a moment before his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The silhouette before him was unmistakable—.

Pakura.

She stood there, arms wrapped tightly around herself, as if holding together the last pieces of her strength. Her lips parted slightly, but she hesitated, refusing to meet his gaze.

"I… I had nowhere else to go," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Souta watched her carefully, noticing the way her shoulders trembled. She wasn't just tired—she was drained, worn down in a way that had nothing to do with just physical exhaustion.

"I wandered for weeks," she continued, fingers clutching at the tattered fabric of her sleeves. "But there was nowhere… no one. My village turned against me. My own people." She swallowed hard, her voice thick with something unsaid. "I should have known better."

Souta set his cup down, the faint clink of porcelain breaking the heavy silence between them. "You're safe here."

Pakura exhaled shakily, almost as if those words alone had taken a weight off her chest. Her gaze finally lifted, searching his face for something—reassurance, warmth, anything that told her this wasn't a mistake. When she found none, she let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

"…But… I was just here to meet you for a night," she admitted, voice barely steady. "I know if I stay, it'll bring you trouble. I shouldn't be here, but I…" She hesitated, gripping her sleeves tighter. "I just came because… you helped me before."

IIf anyone else saw her like this, they wouldn't believe it. The fierce, untouchable Pakura—uncertain, vulnerable, breaking.

Souta leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable. "You can stay," he said simply. "I don't mind. Since you have no place to go, you can stay here. Just don't go outside."

He no longer had to worry about his safety—hehehe… With Pakura at his side, a Kage-level kunoichi, and his new ability or dojutsu, not even Fugaku or Minato would be able to touch him now.

Pakura's breath hitched—just for a second—before she nodded. She stepped further into the room, closing the window behind her. The air between them remained thick with things left unsaid, with feelings she had never dared to voice.

Souta relit the candle, and in its soft glow, he saw what she had been hiding. Exhaustion, yes. But beneath that… longing. A quiet, desperate kind of yearning, buried deep enough that it might have been missed.

He motioned to the spare futon in the corner. "Rest. "

Pakura hesitated. Not because she didn't want to, but because leaving his side—even for something as simple as sleep—felt too much like the goodbye she never wanted to say. But finally, she lowered herself onto the futon, moving with slow, deliberate motions.

The silence stretched between them, but it no longer felt suffocating. For the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to let her guard down.

Souta watched as her breathing evened out, her body finally surrendering to exhaustion. He leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts tangled.

She had come for just one night. He knew that.

Deep down, Pakura knew the truth.

She had never really wanted to leave.