Stripping corn kernels might look simple, but it's a craft, just like scrubbing someone's back.
Mikoto was utterly clumsy.
Her corn-stripping 'technique' made Gen raise an eyebrow; she fumbled as if it were her first time.
Then again, it wasn't surprising.
The Uchiha clan was a noble family bound by rigid traditions. Mikoto came from prestige, Fugaku was the son of a noble line with a stiff personality. Of course she never learned something so menial.
Fortunately, Mikoto was diligent. Quick to learn, she improved steadily, still far from mastery, but respectable for a first effort.
Half an hour later, corn kernels were everywhere, many even stuck to Mikoto herself.
After bathing and tidying up, the two slipped into pajamas. Hand in hand, Gen led her into the bedroom.
Unlike traditional futons, the room had a proper bed.
Gen disliked sleeping on the floor.
The mattress was soft, layered with a brocade quilt. As the lights went out, he pulled Mikoto close, arm around her waist, her scent faint and sweet against him. His chest eased with quiet peace.
Mikoto, however, lay restless. She had waited for him to make a move, anxious, expectant. When he didn't, disappointment settled in.
Am I not attractive anymore?
But that couldn't be. Back in the bath, Gen's hands had roamed without hesitation. He couldn't have changed his mind so quickly.
She wanted to ask, but shame held her tongue. For a while she struggled, then finally gritted her teeth.
"Are you asleep?" she whispered.
"Not yet. Almost. What's wrong?" Gen's voice came, eyes still closed.
"You… are you disgusted? That I'm older, married, that I've had children?"
"No."
"Then why… why are you—"
"Don't overthink it," Gen said calmly. "I was just thinking about Pakura."
Mikoto blinked. "Pakura?"
"My first official girlfriend," Gen explained. "She should be the first to experience it. Otherwise, it wouldn't be fair to her."
He pulled her a little tighter as if to prove his sincerity.
"Are you telling the truth?"
"Of course."
He smiled faintly. "Actually, I've had a crush on Mikoto-nee for a long time. Since training at the grounds… do you remember?"
Her mind flicked to that day years ago. Slowly, she nodded. "I remember."
"You're so annoying." She wriggled in his arms, mock-angry, cheeks warm. "Don't tell me you were already plotting something back then."
"That wasn't plotting," Gen said righteously. "It was admiration. Mikoto-nee, you were too captivating. If I couldn't touch, was I not even allowed to think? Thinking isn't illegal, is it?"
"Then what were you thinking?"
"A lot," he said with a grin. "But especially when you walked away."
He leaned to her ear and whispered the rest.
Mikoto's face turned scarlet instantly. She twisted, protesting, half-angry, half-shy. "Your thoughts are too wicked! How could you from behind me... That's too embarrassing!"
Gen chuckled. "I didn't mean to, but your charm was overwhelming. I couldn't help myself. How about this? After I return from a trip to the Land of Wind, you wear that same outfit and skirt. Tonight, we'll—"
The heat pressing against her back made Mikoto's breath hitch. So she had been charming enough.
"You're now Chief of Police and Uchiha clan leader. How do you even have time to run off to the Land of Wind?"
"Of course I'll make time. I'll finish arrangements before the New Year, then make a quick trip with Kyouki. Won't delay anything."
"Can you really manage that?"
Gen laughed and 'brandished his spear' with a sharp, playful motion, showing off precision and strength.
Mikoto's heart jumped. She hurried to press his hand still. "Alright, alright! I promise you. Just...stop that."
Gen obeyed, but his eyes gleamed with mischief. "Mikoto-nee, I think you'd look even more stunning in black stockings and heels. Your elegance would be… irresistible."
"Really?"
"Really. You'd mesmerize me beyond words."
Mikoto hesitated, then nodded softly. "…Alright."
She knew he had Pakura in Sunagakure, and surely others would follow in Konoha. For her children's future and her own, she needed to please him, to hold his favor. Dressing beautifully was the least she could do.
"Mikoto-nee, you're wonderful," Gen murmured.
"It's late. Let's rest."
"Mm. Sleep."
The next morning, Mikoto rose early to prepare breakfast for Gen and her two sons. But Gen's body clock was sharp, once awake, he couldn't lie still. He followed her into the kitchen.
Among ninja clans, self-reliance was tradition. Even clan leaders often prepared their own meals. Not like noble houses of the old world that left it to servants.
Mikoto glanced at him as he worked beside her, warmth stirring in her chest. Before, Fugaku never helped. He couldn't. Now, with two people sharing the space, the kitchen felt lively.
Together they finished quickly. Mikoto went to wake Sasuke, while Itachi, already dressed, sat waiting.
Soon, the four gathered at the table.
"Wow, it's so rich!" Little Sasuke's eyes widened, drool already forming.
Breakfasts in this world tended toward simple, Western-style meals, milk, bread, scrambled eggs.
But Gen had gone further, drawing from the cuisine of his past life; steaming soy milk, crispy fried dough sticks, fluffy steamed buns, and thick porridge.
Alongside Mikoto's scrambled eggs, dango, and rice balls, the spread looked abundant.
Itachi didn't speak, but his gaze fixed on the unfamiliar foods, shining with curiosity.
"Hehe. Let's eat," Gen said lightly. "Watch. Soy milk and fried dough sticks go perfectly together." He demonstrated, dipping a stick into the soy milk.
Mikoto, Itachi, and Sasuke copied him, then bit into the softened dough.
"Mmm! Delicious!" Mikoto's eyes curved into crescents.
"It's even better than three-color dango and natto," Itachi admitted. Those were his favorites.
As for Sasuke, he said nothing, his mouth was too busy devouring.
Gen ate at an easy pace, posture elegant.
A faint smile lingered as he watched them enjoy. In cuisine, the land of his past life truly stood unrivaled.
And this was only the beginning.