The world shimmered as Mito landed in the courtyard of the Senju estate, her arms cradling Ryosuke's limp form like a precious, fragile thing. Her expression was still, her movements purposeful, but her chakra hummed with restrained fury. A maid ran forward to assist, eyes wide with panic, but Mito's voice was quiet and firm.
"Leave us."
Inside the estate, she gently lowered him onto a futon, brushing aside the blood-matted hair from his forehead. Her hands paused. The chakra signature was... wrong. Off. Not dead, but not whole either.
Then—poof.
Smoke curled into the air as the Ryosuke in her arms vanished.
Mito blinked once, suddenly remembering the seal she had made and forgotten about. She knowingly looked towards Ryosuke's window.
From the shadows near the window, a low cough broke the silence. Ryosuke stood, unsteady, clutching his side as crimson stained his lips.
"You always underestimate me, Mito-sama," he said, offering her a crooked, bloodied smile.
She didn't smile back. Instead, she moved across the room in an instant, placing a hand on his chest to steady him, her chakra brushing over his skin like a current searching for breaks in the surface.
"You fool," she muttered, eyes scanning him, tone tight. "You used my reinforcement seal on a clone. The backlash from a normal shadow clone is already dangerous when it's pushed to its limit. But this?" Her hand trembled slightly. "You're lucky you're even conscious."
Ryosuke winced, lowering himself to sit on the edge of the futon. "It had to hold up. Just long enough to draw them out. Make them commit."
"You're not a bait dog," she snapped.
He looked up at her, eyes sharper now. "I was the only one who could make them show their hand. If I died... you'd still know who did it."
Mito's mouth parted slightly, as if to argue—but she didn't.
Silence stretched.
Then, without a word, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. No warmth, no fuss—just a quiet, steady pressure. The kind of embrace that held not comfort, but understanding.
Ryosuke didn't move. His hand hovered in the air for a moment, then gently rested against her back.
"Don't do this again," she murmured.
He didn't promise. She didn't ask him to.
After a long moment, Mito pulled back, adjusted his collar, and turned toward the door.
"You need rest. I'll take care of the rest."
As she left, the wind outside picked up, brushing the paper door with a soft rustle—like the world itself exhaling.
---
The paper door slid open again—roughly this time.
Kushina stood in the frame, breathing hard, red hair unbound and clinging to her face. Her eyes locked onto Ryosuke, still seated on the futon, hunched slightly as he wiped the last of the blood from his lips.
She didn't speak right away. Her fists were clenched.
"You didn't even tell me," she said finally. Her voice was low, steady, but her whole body was trembling. "You went alone. You knew it was a trap. And you didn't tell me."
Ryosuke blinked, then looked away. "It was better that way."
"Better?" she snapped, stepping into the room. "You almost died!"
"But I didn't."
"That's not the point!"
He winced as he shifted on the futon. "If you had come... you might've gotten caught in that seal. Do you know what that would've done to you?" His voice stayed quiet, but the weight in it pressed against her anger. "I wouldn't survive that guilt."
Kushina froze.
"I'm not afraid of seals," she said, softer now. "I'm not afraid of fighting, or of getting hurt. I'm afraid of waking up and finding out you're just... gone."
Ryosuke didn't answer. His gaze was fixed on the floor, shoulders slouched forward, as if the weight of her words physically dragged him down.
A beat passed. Then another.
Kushina crossed the room and sat beside him. Not too close. Not forgiving. Just there.
"I think I understand you..." she said quietly. " And Konoha, a lot more now. But I- Konoha aside, please don't leave me alone." She looked at him pleasingly, as Ryosuke gazed at her tear glistened eyes.
He came closer to Kushina and took her into his arms,"Kushina. I'll never leave you, that is my promise to you."
They stayed like that for a moment before Kushina pushed herself out of his address and she slowly said, "Mito-sama came for you. Risked everything to pull you out."
"She's different."
"She was," Kushina said, "Now, I think... she sees something in you she doesn't want to lose."
Ryosuke said nothing. The silence stretched again, but this time, it wasn't empty.
Kushina finally leaned back, letting her head rest against the wall. "Next time," she said, almost a whisper, "tell me."
He turned his head slightly, watching her out of the corner of his eye.
"I will," he said, after a long pause.
---
The night market glowed warm and golden, lanterns swaying gently in the spring breeze. Smoke curled from food stalls, carrying the scent of soy, spice, and sizzling oil. Laughter drifted through the air, mingling with the clatter of vendors shouting their wares and children darting between legs with skewers in hand.
Ryosuke walked a little slowly, nursing an extremely shallow limp and a step behind Kushina.
Kushina spun back toward him, holding something up with both hands.
"Try this!" she grinned, eyes gleaming. "New stuff from the southern border brought in. Spicy grilled mochi with plum salt. Sounds weird but smells amazing."
Ryosuke raised a brow. "You want me to eat that while recovering from internal injuries?"
"You'll live," she said, shoving a piece into his mouth before he could protest.
He blinked. Chewed. Blinked again.
"…That's not bad."
"Told you," she beamed, and they strolled deeper into the market, sharing bites from whatever caught her eye—sticky pork buns, roasted sweet potatoes, skewered eel with honey glaze. Every few stalls, Kushina would get distracted by a smell or a flash of color, and Ryosuke would wait patiently as she ran off to barter or gawk.
They turned a corner near the lantern maker's shop when familiar voices called out.
"Well, well," said Inoichi, stepping forward with a lopsided grin. "Didn't think we'd see you two out here tonight."
Choza waved cheerfully, holding a paper cone overflowing with dango. Shikaku gave a lazy nod, hands tucked into his sleeves.
Kushina waved back. "Inoichi! Hey! How's the miss?"
Inoichi chuckled. "Doing well. Actually said she missed chatting with you. You should drop by sometime—she still talks about your rant on mission scroll grammar."
Ryosuke smirked. "I remember that. She made a diagram."
Inoichi turned to him. "How's the hobby going? You writing again?"
Ryosuke gave a small shrug. "I finished something recently, but the publisher wasn't keen on it. Said it wasn't very interesting, so I'm holding off for now."
"Do you have a copy on you?" Inoichi asked, almost too casually. "I'd like to read it. Just… for myself."
Shikaku shot him a glance, not saying a word, but Inoichi definitely understood his friend's nervousness at Inoichi's boldness.
Ryosuke didn't answer immediately. His eyes met Inoichi's, searching.
Before he could speak, another voice cut through the noise.
"Ryosuke."
Fugaku Uchiha approached from the edge of the crowd, hands behind his back, his posture crisp as always. He nodded at the group, eyes briefly flicking to Kushina.
The trio of Ino–Shika–Cho straightened instinctively.
"Fugaku-san," Choza said with a respectful bow. "We'll leave you to it."
The trio excused themselves and melted into the market crowd, Inoichi casting one last glance over his shoulder.
Fugaku turned to Ryosuke. "I heard you've been allowed out. So I came to see you."
"I didn't need a check-in," Ryosuke said bluntly. "I'm not bedridden."
Fugaku's expression didn't change. "I always check in on people who were hurt within the walls of Konoha. It's a matter of principle."
He reached into his cloak and pulled out a tightly wrapped scroll. "Our doors are open, Ryosuke. If you ever need anything, come to me."
Ryosuke took the scroll, brow slightly furrowed. "I'll keep that in mind."
Without another word, Fugaku gave them both a nod and disappeared into the crowd like a shadow pulled by the breeze.
Kushina exhaled. "Well… that was intense."
Ryosuke tucked the scroll into his coat and glanced at her.
"Wanna find dessert?" she asked, already scanning the stalls again.
He gave a faint smile. "Lead the way."
And just like that, they vanished into the night, the flickering lights of the market catching briefly on red hair and bandages as the crowd closed behind them.