The moon's pale glow flickered through the canopy, casting jagged shadows across the clearing. Souta rubbed his ear, still stinging from Mikoto's grip, his lips twitching into a half-smile despite her glare. "Okay, okay, I get it—bad move disappearing. Can we—?"
A twig snapped in the distance, sharp and deliberate. Mikoto's head whipped toward the sound. The crickets had gone silent.
"Patrol ninjas," Mikoto whispered, her voice barely audible, her eyes scanning the darkness.
She grabbed his wrist, her grip iron, and pulled him toward a rocky outcrop near the riverbank. A narrow cave mouth yawned in the shadows, half-hidden by vines. They slipped inside, crouching low as the damp stone pressed against their backs. The cave was cramped, barely wide enough for them both, the air heavy with moss and earth. Their shoulders brushed, their breaths shallow, as the voices grew louder outside.
"—saw movement," one ninja said, his tone gruff. "Check the clearing."
Mikoto's hand tightened on Souta's wrist. He glanced at her, her face half-lit by a sliver of moonlight coming through the cave's entrance.
She leaned closer, her voice a faint murmur against his ear. "If they find us, we will be in bad situation. You know that, right?"
Souta nodded. "Yeah. But they won't." He shifted slightly, his hand brushing hers.
Outside, boots crunched on moss, the patrol ninjas circling the clearing.
The voices faded after what felt like hours, the patrol moving downstream. Mikoto exhaled, her shoulders sagging, but she didn't pull away. Her hand stayed on his wrist, looser now, almost hesitant. Souta turned his head, their faces inches apart in the dim light. Her eyes met his.
"I've been thinking," she said, her voice low, barely above a whisper. "A lot. About… everything." She swallowed, her fingers tightening briefly on his wrist before letting go. "The clan, Fugaku, Konoha—this mess. It's suffocating. I can't keep doing this, Souta. Pretending I'm fine, holding it together for everyone else."
He stayed quiet, letting her words fill the cave. His hand hovered near hers, unsure whether to reach out or pull back.
"I thought about leaving," she continued, her voice steadier now, but laced with something desperate. "Just… walking away. From the Uchiha, from the village, from all of it. Somewhere far, where no one knows us." Her eyes flicked to his, searching, almost pleading. "You and me. We could go. Start over. No clans, no wars, no lies."
He leaned back against the cave wall, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Mikoto… you know it's not that simple."
Her lips pressed into a thin line, her hands clenching in her lap. "I know," she said, her voice cracking. "I know it's selfish. But I'm tired, Souta. Tired of being the perfect wife, the perfect Uchiha. I want something for me. For us." She reached out, her fingers brushing his jaw, tentative but deliberate. "You feel it too, don't you? This… thing between us. It's not just nothing."
He caught her hand, holding it gently, his thumb tracing her knuckles. "I feel it," he admitted, his voice rough. "But running? That's a dream, Mikoto. We'd be looking over our shoulders forever. You really want that?"
She pulled her hand back, her expression crumbling for a heartbeat before hardening again. "Maybe I do," she said, her voice fierce. "Maybe I'd rather run with you than stay here and drown." She leaned closer, her breath warm against his lips, her eyes burning with a mix of defiance and need. "Tell me you haven't thought about it."
Souta touched her arm, his voice low. "They're gone. We're clear." He straightened, brushing dirt from his cloak, his eyes meeting hers. Her expression was taut, her earlier words—leaving, running, us—still hanging between them like a live wire. He stepped closer. "Listen, Miko. I'll take care of it—Fugaku, the clan, the mess. Whatever's coming, I've got you. Alright?"
Her eyes searched his, sharp and wary, like she was waiting for a catch. But then her shoulders eased, just a fraction, and she nodded, a small, almost reluctant gesture. "Alright," she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if saying it louder would break something.
He reached out, his fingers grazing her wrist, a quiet promise. "Come on. Let's stay here a bit. No patrol's dumb enough to double back this soon."
They moved to a small hollow near the river, where the willows draped low, shielding them from the open. The ground was soft with moss, the air cool and heavy with the scent of water. Mikoto hesitated, then sat, pulling her knees up. Souta dropped beside her, close enough that their shoulders brushed. For a moment, neither spoke.
She shifted, surprising him by swinging a leg over his, settling onto his lap with a quiet grace that made his breath catch. Her hands rested on his shoulders, her dark hair falling forward as she looked down at him, her eyes softer now, warmer. "You're too calm about this," she said, her voice low, teasing. "Makes me think you've got a plan you're not telling me."
Souta grinned, his hands settling on her hips, steady but gentle. "Maybe I do. Or maybe I'm just good at faking it." His thumbs traced small circles against her cloak, the fabric rough under his skin. "You okay? Really?"
She tilted her head, her lips curving faintly. "Better now." Her fingers slid up, brushing the back of his neck, and she leaned closer, her breath warm against his jaw. "You know, you're always leaving marks," she murmured, her tone playful but edged with something daring. "My turn tonight."
Before he could respond, she dipped her head, her lips grazing his neck, just below his jawline. Her teeth nipped lightly, a deliberate, teasing bite that sent a jolt through him. He laughed, low and rough, his hands tightening on her hips. "Mikoto, come on—somewhere less obvious. I've got to walk through the village tomorrow."
She pulled back, her eyes glinting with mischief, her lips hovering close. "Nope," she said, her voice firm but laced with amusement. "You don't get to pick." She leaned in again, her teeth grazing the same spot, harder this time, leaving a faint sting that made him hiss. Her laugh was soft, almost smug, as she pressed a quick kiss to the mark, her hands sliding down to rest on his chest.
Souta shook his head, his grin widening. "You're trouble, you know that?" He tugged her closer, her weight settling more comfortably against him. "Fine. But you're explaining this to Kushina if she notices."