“An idea?
What kind of idea could you possibly have?”
Tsunade looked at Mirai suspiciously.
Mirai glanced at the bathrobe she had pulled around herself and gave a mischievous smile.
He leaned closer and whispered something into her ear.
A vein immediately appeared on Tsunade’s forehead.
“You little brat!
Where did you learn something that shameless?
Was it Jiraiya?!”
Jiraiya, somewhere far away: “???”
Mirai coughed.
“Doesn’t matter where I learned it.
The only question is whether you want the method or not.”
“This is a way to get the jonin meeting to accept your proposal.
Are you sure you don’t want to hear it?”
Tsunade clenched her fist.
“Fine!
I’ll do it!”
“But if I find out you’re lying to me, brat, I’ll beat you into pieces!”
Mirai grinned.
“Relax.
It’ll work.”
“Come to my room.”
“Yes!”
The two entered Tsunade’s bedroom.
“Lie down on the bed.”
Mirai obediently did as he was told, preparing to enjoy the reward he had negotiated for himself.
Tsunade stood beside the bed, biting her lower lip with a complicated expression.
In the end, she convinced herself with the same reasoning as always.
‘He’s only seven.
He’s still a little kid.
It’s fine.’
A short while later, Mirai received the thoroughly indulgent full-body massage he had demanded as the price for his advice.
Half an hour later, Tsunade glared down at him.
“All right, you shameless brat.
Now tell me your method.
Immediately.”
Mirai sat up slowly, looking entirely too satisfied with himself.
Big Tsunade’s service really was exceptional.
He leaned close again and whispered several sentences into her ear.
Suspicion appeared in Tsunade’s eyes.
“That’s it?
Something that simple will work?”
“You’ll know after you try it.” Mirai shrugged.
“Fine!” Tsunade gritted her teeth.
“If it doesn’t work, you already know what’s waiting for you!”
Bang!
Tsunade pulled herself together and stormed out of the room.
Mirai didn’t care.
He had already received his reward.
Even if the plan failed, Tsunade wouldn’t actually kill him.
At worst, she’d beat him half to death.
Worth it.
…
Elsewhere, at Mikoto Uchiha’s home, the atmosphere around the dinner table was unusually heavy.
Naori sat across from her older sister, gripping a piece of fried pork cutlet in her chopsticks and biting into it with unnecessary force.
She chewed harder and harder, cheeks puffed out, eyes unfocused as though the poor pork cutlet had personally offended her.
Mikoto’s parents sat at the head of the table.
They exchanged several looks, each appearing hesitant to speak.
Only Mikoto continued wearing her usual gentle smile as though she hadn’t noticed anything.
Every now and then, she put another piece of food into Naori’s bowl.
“Slow down, Naori.
Don’t choke.”
Naori gave a muffled “Mm,” but didn’t slow her chewing at all.
Finally, Mikoto’s father, Masao Uchiha, put down his chopsticks and cleared his throat.
“Mikoto, there’s something…
we need to talk to you about.”
Mikoto looked up.
Seeing the awkward expression on her father’s face, she already had a faint premonition, but her own expression remained calm.
“Please tell me, Father.”
“Clan Head Yamamoto came by today,” Masao said carefully, rubbing his fingers against his knee.
“He came on behalf of his son, Fugaku.
He wants to arrange an engagement between our families.”
Naori immediately stopped chewing.
She looked at her father with a piece of pork still in her mouth, then stared at Mikoto with wide eyes.
Mikoto’s expression stiffened for a moment before returning to its usual gentle calm.
“An engagement?”
“Yes,” her mother continued, sounding slightly nervous.
“Clan Head Yamamoto said Fugaku has always had a very good impression of you, and he hopes the two families can become relatives.
You’re twelve now.
You could become engaged first and marry a few years later…”
Mikoto didn’t answer immediately.
She lowered her eyes, fingers tightening slightly around her chopsticks.
So that was why.
The other day, Fugaku had suddenly appeared in the school corridor and acted as though he had the right to question why she had made a promise to someone else.
Yet he hadn’t told her a single thing.
He could have warned her ahead of time.
Asked how she felt.
Given her the freedom to choose.
Instead, without even informing her that his family intended to propose, he had already behaved like a fiance and questioned her decisions.
Mikoto’s brows drew together slightly.
Then she remembered a certain little red-haired brat.
Those bright eyes when they hooked pinkies.
That completely serious expression as he declared, “No boyfriend, no fiance, no marriage for six years.”
The promise itself had been childish, but she had given her word.
Mikoto Uchiha did not casually break promises she had personally made.
“Father.
Mother.”
Mikoto raised her head.
Her smile was still gentle, but her tone now carried unmistakable resolve.
“I refuse.”
The dinner table fell silent.
Naori finally swallowed the pork in her mouth.
Her lips parted as though she wanted to say something, but she remained quiet.
Only the grip on her chopsticks loosened slightly.
“Mikoto,” her mother said anxiously, “you don’t have to marry him right away.
It would only be an engagement.
We’ve met Fugaku several times ourselves.
He’s mature, composed, and the clan head’s son.
There’s a very good chance he’ll become the next Uchiha clan head.
If you marry him, you’ll become the clan head’s wife…”
“Mother,” Mikoto interrupted gently.
“I don’t like him.
And I’m only twelve.
Right now, I want to train properly, finish my education, and become an excellent Uchiha shinobi.
I don’t want to think about marriage yet.”
Masao was quiet for a moment, then sighed.
“Clan Head Yamamoto has already made the request.
If we reject him outright, it may make things awkward…”
“Father, my marriage is my own life,” Mikoto said.
Her voice remained soft, but her eyes didn’t waver.
“If Clan Head Yamamoto feels slighted because of that, then I’m afraid he’ll simply have to accept it.”
Naori listened from the side, unknowingly forgetting to eat.
She stared at her sister’s gentle yet unwavering profile and felt something she couldn’t quite describe.
Could girls really get engaged at twelve?
She was seven now.
Did that mean in a few years, her family might arrange something similar for her too?
A red-haired boy suddenly appeared in her mind.
That irritating guy with the annoying grin.
The time before last, he had tied her up in the air with chains.
The last time, he had pinned her to the ground and accidentally put his hand where it shouldn’t have gone.
If…
if she had to marry someone someday, then if it were him…
Her face instantly turned bright red.
She lowered her head and shoveled a huge mouthful of rice into her mouth as though she could hide inside the bowl.
‘No, no, no!
What am I thinking?!’
That idiot had embarrassed her in front of the entire class today.
She was supposed to hate him!
Naori’s thoughts tangled into a complete mess.
Even she couldn’t explain why her heart was beating so fast.
Her mother was still trying to persuade Mikoto.
“Why not think about it a little more?
It’s only an engagement.
It wouldn’t interfere with your training or school.
If you grow up and still truly don’t like him, then perhaps later…”
“Mother.”
Mikoto shook her head, still smiling gently but firmly.
“I’ve already said I don’t want to consider an engagement right now.
If Clan Head Yamamoto asks again, please tell him exactly that.”
Masao exchanged a look with his wife.
In the end, they could only sigh and let the matter drop.
Naori secretly studied her sister’s expression.
There was something impressive about the way Mikoto could be so warm and yet so stubborn at the same time.
Then, despite herself, Naori’s mind once again produced the image of a certain red-haired boy and the words, “I’ll be waiting.”
She shook her head hard, trying to throw all those strange thoughts away, then grabbed the biggest piece of pork cutlet and bit into it viciously.
“What’s wrong, Naori?” Mikoto asked softly, noticing her behavior.
“N-Nothing!” Naori mumbled, ears turning red.
“I just think today’s pork cutlet…
is really good.”
Mikoto watched her little sister bury herself in her food and smiled without pressing the issue.
Naori was only seven and she already had little secrets of her own.
How unbearably cute.