The morning sun filtered through the trees as Minato Namikaze stepped out of a swirl of golden light, his Hokage robes slightly singed from another long night spent sealing rogue chakra sources. His eyes—bright blue and sharp with exhaustion—scanned the familiar path leading to Kushina’s home.

Then he froze.

There she stood on the porch, back turned while she arranged flowers in a vase. The same wild crimson hair cascading down her shoulders like molten flame. The same curve of her spine when focused…

A breath left him before he could stop it.

"Kushina?" His voice was rougher than intended, frayed at edges by days without rest.

The figure whirled around—and for one heartbeat too long, time stuttered.