In Naruto, I Have an Affair with Mikoto and Kushina

 ...

The walk home was quiet, the late evening air cool against her skin. The soft glow of lanterns lined the Uchiha district, casting long shadows on the pristine stone paths. It was a peaceful night—too peaceful.

Mikoto's fingers tightened slightly around the fabric of her sleeve.

Souta's words lingered in her mind.

"And nothing. She stayed in her cage, because that's what queens do."

She scoffed under her breath. Foolish story. Foolish man.

And yet… why did it feel like it was about her?

She stepped past the outer gate of the Uchiha compound, her movements automatic. The guards at the entrance offered respectful nods, but she barely acknowledged them. Her thoughts were elsewhere.

As she approached her home, she saw a familiar figure waiting by the door.

"Itachi," she called softly.

The young boy turned at the sound of her voice, his dark eyes unreadable as always. He was only Two, but already carried himself with the quiet composure of a shinobi. Too quiet for a child.

"Mother," he greeted with a small bow. "Welcome home."

Mikoto smiled, brushing a hand over his hair. "You didn't have to wait for me."

"I wanted to," Itachi said simply. Then, after a pause, he added, "Father was looking for you earlier."

Of course he was.

She sighed, straightening. "Is he home?"

Itachi nodded. "In his study."

Mikoto hesitated for a fraction of a second before stepping inside. The warmth of the house should have been comforting, but instead, it felt suffocating. The air was still, the silence pressing.

She turned back to her son. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes."

"Good." She knelt slightly, leveling herself with him. "You should sleep soon. You have training early, don't you?"

Itachi nodded but didn't move right away. His sharp eyes studied her. "Mother…"

She tilted her head. "What is it?"

A brief pause. Then, in a voice quieter than before, he asked, "Are you… happy?"

The question caught her off guard.

Mikoto stared at him, lips parting slightly. How was she supposed to answer that?

She did what was expected. She was a good wife, a good mother. That should have been enough.

"…Of course," she said, her smile practiced and smooth. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Itachi watched her for a moment longer. Then, without another word, he nodded and turned away, heading toward his room.

Mikoto exhaled, feeling something heavy settle in her chest.

She didn't go to Fugaku's study right away. Instead, she sat near the dim glow of a lantern, pouring herself a cup of tea.

It was different from the one Souta made.

Not as warm. Not as… comforting.

She closed her eyes.

"Or maybe it's just unfinished."

Mikoto sat for a moment longer, fingers wrapped around the porcelain cup. The warmth barely registered. She knew she couldn't linger here forever.

With a quiet sigh, she stood and made her way toward Fugaku's study. The door was slightly ajar, as if he had been expecting her. She took a steadying breath before stepping inside.

Fugaku sat at his desk, ink brush in hand, his posture straight and composed. At the sound of her entrance, he glanced up, dark eyes cool and assessing.

"You're late," he said simply.

"I lost track of time," Mikoto replied, keeping her voice neutral.

Fugaku placed his brush down, steepling his fingers. "You've been going out often these past few weeks."

Mikoto met his gaze evenly. "Is that a problem?"

A brief silence stretched between them before Fugaku leaned back slightly. "No. But I wonder where you go."

She exhaled softly, as if amused. "I just go out to take a breath. To clear my mind."

Fugaku studied her, but his expression gave little away. Finally, he nodded. "Very well."

She had expected more. A demand for details, suspicion, perhaps even disapproval. Instead, he let it go. That should have relieved her, but instead, it left an odd taste in her mouth.

Mikoto turned to leave, but Fugaku's voice stopped her.

"You're restless lately."

She hesitated at the doorway, fingers twitching at her sides. "I'm fine."

Another pause. Then, a quiet hum of acknowledgment. "If you say so."

Mikoto left before he could say anything else.

As she walked down the hall, she realized something—Fugaku didn't ask what was wrong. He noticed, but he didn't ask.

She wasn't sure if that was better or worse.