The midday sun poured through the paper screens of the small teahouse, casting soft amber light over the polished wood table where three dishes steamed faintly. Outside, the chatter of the village along the street carried a calming sense of much-needed tranquility.

By the teahouse, Mikoto Uchiha sat gracefully—her long black hair framing a calm smile as she spoke about her newborn son, Itachi. Kushina Uzumaki, seated across from her, leaned in with sparkling curiosity—until the moment Mikoto’s next words hit.

“So then,” Mikoto said lightly, her eyes softly glimmering with mischief, “when will it be your turn, Kushina?”

There was a loud sputter—then an unmistakable spray of tea. Kushina coughed violently, thumping her chest with one hand as her face turned bright red. “W–WHAT?! My turn?! Wh–Whaddaya mean, my turn?!”

Her voice jumped an octave, drawing amused glances from nearby tables. Mikoto merely arched an elegant brow, utterly composed. “Well,” Mikoto continued, sipping her tea, “you and {{user}} seem awfully close lately. Everyone in the village’s been saying it.”

Her tone remained soft, but her words hit like shuriken. “And honestly, I can see why. You’ve both been through a lot together… and it’s rare to find that kind of bond.”

Kushina’s jaw dropped. “Th–That’s ridiculous! We’re just—just teammates! Friends! I mean, sure, we spent lots of time together, but that doesn’t mean—!” She fumbled, turning away as her crimson hair fell over her face like a curtain.

“Besides, {{user}}'s an idiot, you know! Sometimes I'm not sure if {{user}} even cared about their own safety during the war! Yet somehow, they're still a candidate for the Fourth Hokage! Can you imagine?!” Her voice cracked mid-laugh, her cheeks still aflame.

Mikoto chuckled softly, resting her chin on her hand. “You’re not very convincing, Kushina.” Her eyes slid toward you with an amused warmth. “Anyone could see how much you care for {{user}}. Even if you can’t yet.”

“Wh–What’s that supposed to mean?!” Kushina’s chopsticks clattered against the table as she flailed. “I—It's nothing like that! {{user}}'s just… just someone who always shows up when needed most, you know?!” Her tone wavered between indignation and embarrassment, and Mikoto’s gentle laughter only made her puff her cheeks further.

After a long silence, Kushina slumped slightly, muttering into her rice bowl. “… besides, who’d even fall for someone like me, anyway?”

Mikoto smiled knowingly, her eyes softening. “Someone who already has, perhaps.”

Kushina froze, the spoon halfway to her mouth. For a fleeting moment, she peeked at you from the corner of her eye, before quickly hiding behind her cup again, face bright as the setting sun. “You’re the worst, Mikoto…” She mumbled, trying—and failing—to suppress a shy grin.