After dinner, those who still had duties to attend to gradually rose and prepared to leave.
"Mikoto and I still have some military matters to discuss, so I won't see everyone out."
Anlan stood up calmly. As he spoke, he naturally took hold of the wrist of the woman beside him.
Mikoto paused mid-step.
Unlike an ordinary woman, she didn't blush.
After realizing she couldn't pull her hand free, she merely shot the boy a helpless glare.
She had thought this gathering would pass without incident.
Yet in the end, she still hadn't escaped this "scoundrel's" grasp.
The excuse sounded perfectly dignified—but everyone present was sharp-minded enough to understand the truth.
One by one, they found random excuses and quickly slipped away.
Even Shisui, who still wanted to speak with Anlan, was dragged off by Fugaku.
At the kitchen doorway, Daiju squatted and stared at the pair's clasped hands.
He flicked his tail in envy.
Then he glanced at the silver-striped cat beside him and felt secretly delighted.
"Why aren't you cleaning the dining room yet? Once we're done, we're heading back, meow."
Hearing Ayane's scolding, Daiju immediately bustled about.
Before long, the house fell silent.
Anlan led Mikoto toward the stairs.
Once they entered the bedroom on the second floor, Mikoto gently twisted her soft hand free from his grip while he reached to turn on the light.
She spun lightly and sat down on the edge of the bed.
Her back straight.
Her posture elegant.
Like a night-blooming cherry blossom.
Her hands folded gracefully on her knees.
As her hips sank into the soft bedding, her body leaned back slightly, outlining the graceful curve of her waist.
Beneath the hem of her skirt, her delicate feet swayed lightly.
Her toes stretched gently, glowing like pearls under the lamplight.
The warm golden light danced across her smiling eyes.
Her long eyelashes cast faint shadows, making her already alluring expression even more captivating.
Her posture was dignified—
Yet every detail carried a subtle charm.
"No naughty thoughts allowed~"
Mikoto crossed her arms defensively across her chest, raising her chin as she stared directly at Anlan.
She tried to maintain the final authority of an older sister.
But her forced composure only made her resemble a puffed-up kitten begging to be teased.
She protected the upper half of her body—
But forgot about the rest.
A smile flickered in Anlan's eyes.
He bent down and seized her exposed feet.
The moment his fingers touched her skin, the smooth warmth felt like jade melting in his palm.
He gently kneaded her feet.
Almost instantly, a strange tingling sensation shot up from her soles like electricity, racing through her calves straight to her heart.
Mikoto curled her toes instinctively, trying to pull away.
But her feet remained firmly captured in his warm hands.
Her weak resistance only made it seem like playful refusal.
"This isn't naughty," Anlan said softly beside her ear.
"I'm just giving my dear sister a comfortable foot massage after such a busy day."
His fingers lifted her slender ankle.
Mikoto glanced at him sideways, half annoyed and half amused.
Her lips parted as if to protest—
But in the end, she simply pressed them together.
This troublesome boy never followed ordinary logic.
Seeing her expression, Anlan adjusted into a more comfortable position and spoke calmly.
"While my sister enjoys herself, we might as well discuss serious military matters."
"Did Ayane tell you? Kakuzu—the rogue ninja from Takigakure and bounty hunter of the underground market—is currently working for me."
"Where has he reached now?"
Relaxed under the massage, Mikoto unconsciously softened.
A faint mist filled her eyes as she watched the boy's focused face.
"Yes… Ayane mentioned it."
"Kakuzu noticed Kumogakure's southern advance was growing fierce. So instead of framing them as planned, he changed routes and went straight to Kusagakure."
"He's searching for surviving members of the Uzumaki clan…"
At this point Mikoto raised her delicate brows.
Concern flickered in her eyes.
"You've grown more reckless, you know."
"Not only using rogue ninja to cause trouble for the village, but secretly cultivating ties with nobles…"
"If someone discovers this, the clan will— mmh!"
"Careful what you say, sister."
Anlan slightly increased the pressure.
Mikoto gasped unexpectedly and sank deeper into the quilt.
Her fitted blouse clung tightly to her curves as she fell back, outlining the smooth rise and fall from her waist to her hips.
Like twin hills rising from a flat plain.
Mikoto glared at him in embarrassment.
Yet her eyes shimmered with rippling light.
Anlan leaned closer.
His fingers slid upward.
Just as they were about to reach the valley between those hills—
Her hand blocked him.
"Anlan…"
Her voice was almost a whisper.
"You will one day become the head of the Uchiha… lead us toward a new future."
"But the things you're doing now…"
"They frighten me."
Since learning what he had been doing behind the scenes, fear had lingered in her heart.
"I want to stop you."
"But I don't know how."
"Look at me, Mikoto."
The last time he had seen her so frightened was when she first awakened the Sharingan.
Anlan felt a twinge of pain.
He gently cupped her cheek.
The warmth of his palm reached her racing heart.
"Trust me."
"There is nothing to fear."
His thumb softly traced her cheekbone.
His gaze was calm and deep like a still lake.
"Just leave everything to me."
Mikoto slowly closed her eyes.
Her cool hand covered the back of his.
When she opened them again—
They held only trust.
She turned her face slightly, pressing it deeper into his palm like a kitten that had finally found its home.
"I trust you."
Her voice was soft.
"I always have."
Anlan leaned forward until their foreheads touched.
Their breaths mingled.
"I will let you see the day the Uchiha stand at the peak of the ninja world."
"This glory will never fall."
The bold declaration echoed in her ears.
But Mikoto's touched expression vanished instantly.
Her face flushed crimson.
"That place… you can't touch there!"
"It's fine. I'm just rubbing against it."
"No means no!"
"I heard from Sister Hazuki that if men do that… their legs go weak the next day!"
"…?!"
Kusagakure — Deep Night
Inside a hidden house used to detain outsiders, known only to the Grass Village leadership, the air smelled of mold and faint blood.
A single oil lamp flickered in the corner.
Its dim light cast twisted shadows across the walls.
A red-haired woman curled up in a pile of straw.
In her arms she held a swaddled infant tightly.
Her clothes were ragged.
Bruises marked her exposed skin.
Dust covered her face, yet her delicate beauty still showed beneath it.
She lowered her head, shielding the baby with her body.
Her thin back trembled from tension.
Before her stood two Grass ninja.
Arms folded.
Eyes filled with malicious intent.
"Not bad," one of them said, licking his dry lips.
"Clean her up and she'd look pretty good."
The short, fat ninja stared openly at her chest and slender waist with lewd eyes.
"And we didn't notice at first… she's from the Uzumaki clan."
"That bloodline's worth a fortune."
"If we sell her to Kumogakure…"
The tall, thin ninja grinned sinisterly.
"The boss went with Iwagakure."
"He told us to interrogate her about Uzumaki secret techniques."
"But before that…"
"We could conduct a more thorough interrogation."
The two laughed obscenely.
They stepped forward.
Closing in.
The shadows swallowed mother and child.
The oil lamp flickered.
The woman suddenly raised her face.
Her black eyes were filled with despair.
Anger.
And pleading.
"Please… don't do this."
The fat ninja laughed.
"Don't do what exactly?"
The woman's eyes trembled violently.
Her movement made the two Grass ninja pause.
Then they burst into laughter.
"See? Should've been obedient from the start!"
The tall ninja showed yellowed teeth.
"Don't worry. We'll treat you very well…"
BOOM—!
A deafening explosion shattered the door.
Wood fragments exploded inward.
A nauseating smell of blood flooded the room.
Then came an overwhelming killing intent—
Like an icy tide filling the entire space.
The two arrogant Grass ninja collapsed instantly.
Their knees slammed against the ground.
Their bodies shook uncontrollably.
Their teeth chattered.
Their pants quickly darkened with urine.
Even their most basic bodily control failed.
The red-haired woman looked up in shock.
At the doorway stood a tall, imposing figure.
The man wore a black cloak.
On his forehead was the slashed headband of a Takigakure rogue ninja.
Above the mask were emotionless green eyes.
Outside the door—
Dozens of Grass ninja corpses littered the courtyard.
Blood soaked the ground beneath the moonlight.
Kakuzu.
He stepped over the threshold.
His bloodstained boots crushed broken wood with cold cracking sounds.
He didn't even glance at the two trembling Grass ninja.
They were nothing more than garbage.
Black tendrils shot from his back.
The two bodies split cleanly in half.
Organs spilled across the floor.
Blood splattered the walls like ink paintings.
Kakuzu calmly retracted the tendrils.
His green eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he looked at the unconscious red-haired woman.
"Two million ryō."
Then he glanced toward the silent baby.
A flicker of alarm crossed his eyes.
After confirming the infant was alive, he sighed in relief.
"Another two million."
"Easy money."
Land of Fire Coast
Thick sea mist still lingered.
The battlefield from the previous night resembled hell.
A hundred-man Konoha border unit—
Completely annihilated.
Hundreds of Kirigakure ninja spread across the coastline like a fan.
Scouting for the arrival of the main army.
The waves crashed endlessly against the shore.
Washing over blood-soaked sand.
Yet no tide could cleanse the scent of death lingering within the morning mist.
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