“A solution?
What kind of solution could you possibly have?” Tsunade eyed Uzumaki Mirai suspiciously.
Uzumaki Mirai glanced at the bathrobe Tsunade was holding up, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.
He leaned down and whispered something into Tsunade’s ear.
Tsunade’s veins pulsed on her forehead, and anger surged within her: “You wretched brat, where did you learn such a cruel idea?
Was it from Jiraiya?”
Jiraiya:???
“Ahem,” Uzumaki Mirai cleared his throat, “It doesn’t matter where I learned it, the question is, are you willing?”
“This is a method that could get your proposal passed by the Jonin conference, you know?
Are you sure you don’t want to know?”
Tsunade clenched her fists: “Fine!
I’ll take it off!”
“If I find out you dared to trick me, you’ll be scattered in pieces, you little brat!”
Uzumaki Mirai smiled: “Don’t worry, it’s absolutely effective!”
“Come to my room!”
“Yes!”
The two entered Tsunade’s bedroom, one after the other.
“Lie down on the bed!”
Uzumaki Mirai complied, ready to enjoy.
By the bed, Tsunade bit her lower lip, a complex look flashing in her eyes.
In the end, she convinced herself with the excuse, “This brat is only seven, he doesn’t understand anything, it’s not a big deal.”
Then she took off her bathrobe, completely naked.
From Mirai’s perspective, lying on the bed, Tsunade’s entire body seemed to glow with holy light!
Oh no, my nose is a bit itchy, I’m not going to get a nosebleed, am I?
Hold it in!
Fortunately, little Mirai’s functions hadn’t fully loaded yet, so he didn’t make too much of a fool of himself.
Mirai just enjoyed the sight.
Then Tsunade leaned over, her chest pressed against Mirai’s body: “So, I just need to move back and forth like this, right?”
“Mm-hmm!” Feeling the soft touch, Uzumaki Mirai nodded in satisfaction.
Half an hour later, Tsunade finished his full-body massage.
“Alright, you perverted brat!
Now, immediately, tell me your method!”
Uzumaki Mirai felt like he was about to float to heaven; Tsunade’s service was simply too wonderful!
He slowly sat up, then leaned close to Tsunade’s ear again, whispering a few words.
A hint of suspicion flashed in Tsunade’s eyes: “It’s that simple?”
“You’ll know if you try it, won’t you?” Mirai shrugged.
“Alright!” Tsunade gritted her teeth and nodded, “If your method doesn’t work, you know the consequences!
Just wait, brat!”
“Bang—”
Tsunade, now dressed in her towel, slammed the door shut as she left.
Uzumaki Mirai didn’t care; he had already enjoyed himself.
Even if the method didn’t work, Tsunade wouldn’t actually kill him.
At most, she’d beat him half to death, and that would be worth it.
…
Meanwhile, at Uchiha Mikoto’s house.
At the dinner table, the atmosphere was a bit heavy.
Uchiha Naori sat opposite her sister, picking up a piece of fried pork chop with her chopsticks, taking a forceful bite, and then chewing it fiercely, as if the pork chop had some deep-seated grudge against her.
Her chewing speed grew faster and faster, her cheeks puffed out, but her eyes darted around, lost in thought.
Mikoto’s parents sat at the head of the table, exchanging glances several times, wanting to speak but hesitating.
Only Mikoto maintained her gentle smile, as if she hadn’t noticed anything.
She occasionally put a dish into Naori’s bowl, softly saying, “Naori, eat slowly, don’t choke.”
Naori mumbled an “Mm,” but her chewing didn’t slow down at all.
Finally, Uchiha Mikoto’s father, Uchiha Masao, put down his chopsticks and cleared his throat.
“Mikoto, there’s something…
I want to talk to you about.”
Mikoto looked up, seeing her father’s slightly uneasy expression, and a premonition stirred within her, but her face remained calm: “Father, please speak.”
“Earlier today, the Clan Head…
Uchiha Yamamoto came over.” Masao carefully chose his words, rubbing his fingers on his knee.
“He proposed to our family on behalf of his son, Fugaku.”
As soon as the words fell, Naori’s chewing abruptly stopped.
She looked up, a half-chewed pork chop still in her mouth, her eyes wide with disbelief as she looked at her father, then turned to look at her sister.
Mikoto’s expression froze for a moment, but quickly returned to a gentle smile.
“Proposed?”
“Yes,” her mother interjected from the side, a hint of apprehension in her tone.
“Clan Head Yamamoto said that Fugaku has always had a good impression of you, and he very much hopes that our two families can become in-laws.
You’re twelve this year; getting engaged first, then marrying in a few years, would be just right…”
Mikoto didn’t answer immediately.
She lowered her eyes, her fingers gripping her chopsticks tightening slightly.
So that’s it!
That day, Fugaku suddenly appeared in the school hallway, acting as if to say, “Why did you agree to someone else’s promise?” It was because his family was already preparing to propose.
But he didn’t say a word at the time.
He could have told her in advance, asked her wishes, given her a choice, but he said nothing.
Without informing her of the engagement, he had presumptuously questioned her decision as her “fiancé.”
Mikoto’s brow furrowed slightly.
And, she also remembered that red-haired brat.
Those bright, sparkling eyes when they made the pinky promise, and his serious expression when he earnestly said, “No boyfriends, no fiancés, and no marriage for six years.”
Although that promise seemed childish, she had given her word, and since she had promised, Uchiha Mikoto would not go back on it.
“Tosan, Kasan,” Mikoto looked up, her face still bearing a gentle smile, but her tone held an undeniable firmness, “Wariwa, Kotowaru (I refuse)!”
The dining table fell silent for a moment.
Naori finally swallowed the pork chop in her mouth.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but didn’t, merely loosening her grip on her chopsticks by half a point.
“Mikoto,” her mother said, a little anxious, “You’re only twelve, you don’t have to marry right away, it’s just an engagement first.
We’ve met Fugaku a few times; he’s steady and generous, and he’s the Clan Head’s son, so he’ll likely be the next Uchiha Clan Head.
You’d be the Clan Head’s wife…”
“Kasan,” Mikoto interrupted her, her voice soft but clear, “I don’t like him, and I’m only twelve this year.
I just want to focus on my Ninjutsu training and my studies.
I want to become an excellent Uchiha Ninja.
I don’t want to consider marriage matters for now.”
Masao was silent for a while, then sighed: “Clan Head Yamamoto has already proposed.
If we refuse directly, it might cause him to lose face…”
“Otosan!
My marriage is my own business,” Mikoto’s voice remained gentle, but the resolve in her eyes did not waver.
“If Clan Head Yamamoto loses face because of this, then he’ll just have to bear with it.”
Naori listened from the side, unconsciously putting down her chopsticks.
She looked at her sister’s gentle yet stubborn profile, and an indescribable feeling welled up in her heart.
Can you really get engaged at twelve?
Then she’s seven, will she also be arranged for such things in a few years?
She suddenly thought of Uzumaki Mirai, that red-haired, mischievous-looking annoyance.
The time before last, he tied her up in mid-air with chains, and last time was even worse, he pinned her to the ground and even put his hand there!
If…
if she had to marry someone in the future, if it were him, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad?
Her face instantly flushed, and she quickly lowered her head, taking a big mouthful of rice, wishing she could bury her entire face in the bowl.
Dame, dame, dame!
What was she thinking!
That guy even pinned her to the ground and touched her in front of the whole class today…
No, he pinned her down!
She should hate him!
Uchiha Naori’s mind was a mess, her heart beating so fast that even she found it baffling.
Her mother was still trying to persuade her: “Mikoto, why don’t you reconsider?
It’s just an engagement first, it doesn’t affect your training or studies.
If you really don’t like him when you’re older, then…”
“Okasan!” Mikoto shook her head, her eyes gentle and resolute.
“I said, I don’t want to consider marriage matters for now.
If Clan Head Yamamoto asks again, please tell him truthfully, Father.”
Masao and his wife exchanged glances, finally sighing and saying no more.
Naori secretly glanced at her sister’s expression—that gentle yet sharp demeanor made her suddenly feel how amazing her sister was.
She lowered her head and shoveled rice, but the red-haired boy’s face and his words, “I’m waiting,” uncontrollably popped into her mind again.
Naori vigorously shook her head, shaking off those chaotic thoughts, then picked up the largest fried pork chop and took a fierce bite.
“What’s wrong, Naori?” Mikoto noticed her odd behavior and asked softly.
“N-nothing!” Naori’s voice was muffled, but her earlobes quietly turned red.
“I just think today’s pork chop…
is really tasty.”
Mikoto smiled slightly, watching her furiously eat, and didn’t press further.
Naori was only seven, but she already had her own little thoughts!
But Naori, keeping little secrets from her older sister, was also excessively cute!