Chapter Text
Autumn. You are eleven years old, and I’ve never seen anyone quite like you.
Mikoto never understood what it was that made the kids in her class pick out people to bully. She remembered her mother telling her about Kirigakure shinobi who, like sharks, would pick out the weakest or most wounded member of a group. “They can smell the blood in the water,” she used to say. Mikoto had refused to walk near the lake for weeks after that — if the kids at the academy had picked her out, maybe the sharks would too.
Today, though, it looked like the class had chosen new prey. Mikoto was sitting in the back row of the classroom when the girl walked in. Her hands were balled in fists around her skirt, her face red and her eyes set on the floor. Still, there was something almost defiant about her. The way she held her head, the way her dark red hair fell across her face.
On either side of her, the other students began to snicker.
“What a stupid color. Can’t be natural,” one muttered. Another smirked, and nodded in agreement.
At the front of the room, the teacher began to introduce the girl. Mikoto tilted her head to one side, and frowned, only half listening to what the teacher and the boys were saying. For whatever reason, she couldn’t take her eyes off the girl. She figured she’d just never met a transfer student before. The teacher said she was from far away, too — Uzu-something.
Mikoto blinked. The teacher had stopped talking, and was fixing the new girl with an expectant stare. Around her the muttering of the other students grew louder. Sharper, too. Mikoto couldn't help but think that this is what sharks would sound like, if they were allowed on land. And the new girl's hair, clean and bright and red as blood, drew them to her.
Mikoto bit her lip, and looked down. If it had been her, she would have wanted to run away. She knew how it felt to have kids jeering at you, giving you looks and snickering behind their hands. Little Uchiha thinks she’s perfect, thinks she’s better than us all. Even with the students' glares fixed on someone else, Mikoto felt herself shrinking down into her seat.
The new girl didn’t run away, though. Instead, she raised her eyes, and fixed the room with a fiery expression.
“My name is Kushina Uzumaki!” she said firmly, raising her voice above the muttering of the other kids, “And I’m gonna be the first female hokage!”
The room erupted into laughter at this, the teacher hurriedly trying to shush the other students as Kushina glared defiantly around the room, but Mikoto didn’t hear. All she could think of was the look in the new girl’s eyes as she stamped her feet and raised her voice above the crowd, and the warm dark red of her hair.
“And she was sooo cool, mom! She wasn’t scared at all!”
“That’s nice, dear. What else did she say?”
Mikoto frowned, trying to remember. She was walking home with her mother, arm stretched up to hold her hand. The road home was framed with the red and gold of mid-autumn, the leaves fluttering in the slight breeze. Mikoto let her eyes trace the path of a falling leaf, and smiled to herself. The red was the same color as the new girl’s hair.
“She said…” she murmured, then grinned as she remembered, “She said she’d be the first female hokage! I think she is, too. You should have seen her!”
At this, she ripped her hand out of her mother’s and ran forward to strike a defiant pose. She tried her best to twist her face into her best impression of Kushina's confident glare. Even alone with her mother, it did feel a bit silly. Still, she stomped her foot, and put her hands on her hips.
“Like this!”
Her mother sighed, and shook her head.
“Shush. Stop stomping, you’re getting mud on your dress. This new girl sounds like a handful. You said her name was Uzumaki?”
Mikoto nodded, shoulders sinking a bit.
“Well. She caused quite a stir, didn’t she.”
“Mhm.”
After a few minutes of silent walking, her mother looked down at her, a question in her eyes.
“Is something wrong? You’re quiet.”
“No,” Mikoto said, scuffing a foot against the ground.
“Have your classmates been saying anything again?” she asked sharply, and Mikoto shook her head.
“No, just–”
“You know what I always tell you, you’re an Uchiha, you’re above this. If they try anything–”
“Mom, no, just…is it ok? If I try to be friends with her?”
Her voice was small, and her mother pursed her lips. Mikoto closed her eyes, bracing herself for the response. Finally, she heard a sigh, and she carefully opened her eyes.
“Well. I don’t see why not. Does she want to be friends with you?”
Mikoto shrugged, and looked down.
“Dunno.”
“Have you talked to her?”
“No…”
“Why not?”
“She just…she’s so. Pretty, and brave, and the other kids are mean to her.”
Her mother gave her an odd look.
“You’re an Uchiha. She should be happy to call you a friend.”
“Yeah. An Uchiha…”
The name still felt odd in Mikoto’s mouth. She knew there were other Uchihas, bigger more important families in the compound. But when her mother said the word she always made it sound like a title. Like it was their place in the world.
Her mother sighed, and squeezed her hand.
“If you’re scared she won’t like you, write her a letter. I can help you with the spelling.”
Mikoto looked up, eyes wide.
“A letter? Like Dad used to write you?”
To the girl's surprise, her mother laughed.
“No, nothing like that! Just a note. Then you can wait for a response. Does that sound okay?”
Mikoto paused a moment, eyes wide as she considered the idea.
“Yeah,” she said finally, “That sounds good.”
The next morning, she got to school early, and slipped the note into Kushina’s desk. Her mother had helped her with the trickier words, and told her to sign her name in her best handwriting. In the end she’d scribbled it out and written something else instead. If Kushina thought the note was silly, she could try again. Next to the signature she scrawled a picture of a cat, and another of a flower. She hoped Kushina liked sunflowers.
Dear Transfer Student,
What’s your favorite color? Did you move here with your mom and dad? What are their favorite colors? Is that your real hair? I think it’s pretty. Do you really want to be hokage when you grow up?
Answer these questions and put your letter in the hole in the old oak tree!
Sincerely,
Your secret admirer
In the end, it only took a few days for Mikoto and Kushina to become friends.
Mikoto had rushed breathlessly to the old oak tree to look for a reply the day after she left her note, and the day after that. By the third day she was avoiding eye contact with Kushina in class. The fifth day she almost didn’t check, but, crossing her fingers just in case, she crept out after class to look one more time. Mikoto bit her lip. It had been nearly a week. Kushina had probably just thrown the note away. Holding her breath, she leaned over the hole in the oak tree and–
“What are you doing?”
Mikoto yelped, and whirled around.
The voice had been calm but curious — no accusation, just a question. Kushina’s blue-gray eyes were sparkling with the same curiosity. Her dark red hair fell onto her shoulders with that comfortable ease it always did, sunlight catching it so it glowed like a deep ruby ember. Suddenly, Mikoto couldn’t seem to make her voice come out.
“You’re name’s…Uchiha something, right?” Kushina said, flashing her an encouraging smile. Mikoto nodded.
“Mikoto Uchiha,” she managed, and Kushina beamed.
“So, Mikoto Uchiha, what’re you doing out here?”
For a moment, Mikoto’s mind went blank, her mouth hanging slightly open as she scrambled for an excuse. She could not tell this girl that she was sneaking out after school to see if she’d written her a response.
“Uh, what about you?” she said helplessly, dodging the question entirely, “What are you doing here? Aren’t your parents waiting?”
Kushina shrugged.
“My parents are back home,” she said, and scuffed a foot on the ground. For the first time since Mikoto had seen her, she didn’t look defiant or confident. Her smile was still there, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Oh…I’m sorry. That must be lonely.”
The words felt hollow in Mikoto’s mouth, not nearly a good enough response, but Kushina didn’t seem to mind.
“It is, a little,” she said.
“Are you here all by yourself?"
Kushina shook her head, and her smile returned.
“Nah, the hokage’s got me set up with my great aunt. Or, I dunno, I call her my great aunt. She’s like, ancient. Like for real she’s gotta be a hundred or something. My family says it’s a big honor to live with her. Apparently she was some famous guy’s wife.”
Mikoto frowned.
“Lady Mito?” she guessed, and Kushina nodded, “Why are you with her?”
“Dunno. ‘Cause she’s my only relative in the village, probably.”
“I guess…but what are you doing back here? You still didn’t say.”
At this, Kushina’s grin broadened, and she reached into her skirt pocket and fished out a folded piece of paper.
“Delivering this!” she said triumphantly.
Mikoto felt a blush rise to her cheeks, and, unable to help herself, she asked, “What’s that?”
“A letter!” Kushina said, then whispered conspiratorially, “Someone slipped one into my stuff a few days ago and told me to send one back. I’m s’posed to leave it in this tree, I think. It said it’s from my secret admirer.”
She gave a smug smile at the words, and Mikoto couldn’t help but smile back.
“Wow,” she managed, “You have a secret admirer?”
“I guess so!” Kushina said happily, “I don’t know how it’s s’posed to go, though. I tried to get Aunt Mito to help with the reply but she was busy, so I had to get one of the teachers to help, and that took ages…I’ve never had one before. Have you?”
Mikoto blinked.
“Had one what?”
“A secret admirer! I mean you’ve got to, you’re so pretty there’s no way you don’t. Isn’t your family loaded or something too?”
Mikoto felt a blush burning across her cheeks, and, carefully, shook her head.
“N-no, I’ve never had one.”
Kushina tilted her head to one side and gave Mikoto a long, calculating look.
“Nah, you have. I’m sure of it. That’s why it’s called a secret admirer, anyway. You just don’t know who they are yet.”
“Oh. You think so?”
“Mhm!”
Kushina flashed her a brief, fiery grin, then walked past her to slip her note into the hole in the tree. Carefully, with the air of someone investigating a crime scene, she draped a piece of stray moss over the top. Taking a step back to survey her handiwork, she nodded.
“There! Now no-one’ll take it by accident.”
Mikoto bit her lip, and tried to stop her eyes from lingering on the note. Part of her wanted to run over and rip it open, read it over and over again until she knew every word by heart. But Kushina was still watching.
Just as Mikoto had that thought, though, Kushina turned to leave. Despite herself, she called after her.
“W-wait,” Mikoto called after her, “are you walking home with Lady Mito? Or…”
“Nah, I know the way. We’re eleven, anyway, we’re practically grown. We’re gonna be real shinobi soon!”
“But,” Mikoto began, but Kushina wasn’t listening.
The girl half jogged over to the fence behind the tree, and, without missing a beat, hitched her skirts up and clambered up it. When she was perched at the top, she turned and held a hand out, the other gripping the top of the fencepost.
“Come on! This way’s quicker than going ‘round the front.”
Mikoto blanched. She could just hear her mother’s mortified voice if she caught her jumping the fence. But Kushina was waiting for her. Mikoto looked into her blue-gray eyes, and, before she had time to think, ran forward and grabbed her hand. For a moment, all she could feel was the breeze against her face, and the warmth of Kushina’s hand against hers.
Then, without warning, she was moving. Kushina hauled her up in one easy motion, and Mikoto yelped as she was swept off the ground. She staggered for a moment, trying to find her balance on top of the fence, then gave Kushina an admiring stare. The girl's hand was still in hers.
“Stronger than I look, huh?” Kushina said.
Mikoto nodded breathlessly.
“It’s ‘cause I’m an Uzumaki. We have like, special chakra and stuff.”
Mikoto frowned.
“Like our eyes?”
“Huh?”
“Oh, mom says we can see extra well because we’re Uchihas. Something about genetics, she said.”
Mikoto looked down at the words, already feeling stupid for bringing it up, but Kushina’s eyes widened.
“That’s so cool! Do you see, like, extra colors or something?”
“N-no, nothing like that,” Mikoto managed. Kushina had leaned in to inspect her eyes, peering at them like they hid some kind of secret. Her face was only inches away.
“Aw,” Kushina said, face falling into a disappointed pout, “I was hoping you could see like, ‘red two’ or something like that.”
Mikoto managed an awkward laugh, but Kushina still hadn’t leaned away. She was staring into her eyes, so close Mikoto could feel her breath on her face.
“They’re really pretty though. Do all Uchihas have eyes as pretty as yours?”
For a moment, the words didn’t sink in. Mikoto opened her mouth to reply, but, realizing what Kushina had just said, she felt a blush spread across her face.
“Uh,” she began, but, before she could form a reply, a distant but familiar voice cut her off.
“Mikoto? What's taking so long in there, it’s time to go home.”
Mikoto flinched.
“That’s my mom,” she said quickly, “She can’t know we jumped the fence. I’d better hurry.”
Kushina nodded, and, still holding hands, they leapt to the ground. Mikoto slipped her hand out of Kushina’s and jogged breathlessly towards the front of the building. A moment later and she rounded the corner on her mother, staring impatiently at the front gate.
“S-sorry mom!”
Her mother whirled, and raised her eyebrows.
“What are you doing out here? Did you sneak out of class?”
“No,” Mikoto said, frantically searching for an excuse, “I was just–”
“We were doing some target practice after school,” Kushina said, rounding the corner behind her.
Mikoto turned in surprise, but Kushina didn’t react. The girl’s face was the picture of innocence, hands clasped behind her back, looking up at Mikoto’s mother with a plaintive expression.
“One of my kunai went over the fence,” she went on, “and Mikoto offered to go help me get it. I’m really sorry, Mrs. Uchiha, it won’t happen again.”
Mikoto shot Kushina a grateful look, but her mother narrowed her eyes.
“Why were you practicing after class? Shouldn’t you have a teacher there for supervision?”
Again, Kushina didn’t miss a beat.
“It was my idea,” she said, looking guiltily down at the ground, “Mikoto’s really good with shuriken and kunai. I’ve been having a hard time so I asked if she would help.”
Mikoto held her breath. After what seemed like an eternity, her mother spoke.
“Well,” she said grudgingly, “if you sent one over the fence you definitely do need some extra practice. Next time, try asking a teacher. You two aren’t genin yet, and I don’t want you playing with knives. You’ll get hurt.”
Kushina nodded solemnly, then flashed Mikoto a quick smile.
“I should head home now, but I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” Mikoto repeated, answering Kushina’s smile with a shy one of her own.
“It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Uchiha!” Kushina said brightly.
She gave Mikoto one last lingering glance, then turned and jogged back around the corner. A moment later, and she was gone.
“Who was that?” her mother asked, peering after the girl with an odd expression.
“Just a friend,” Mikoto mumbled.
“Well,” her mother began, but then paused, her gaze softening, “I’m glad you’re making friends. Even if her aim is awful. And I suppose she was polite, at least.”
Mikoto nodded.
On the walk home her mother went on talking, but all Mikoto could think about was the smile Kushina had given her, and that word: friend. Holding on to the warm, giddy feeling as long as it would last, she walked home beside her mother, already planning what she would say in her next letter. Even if they were going to be friends, Kushina hadn’t heard the last from her secret admirer.
Summer. You are twelve years old, and now you’re a part of my life.
Over the months, the answers in the letter, scrawled in Kushina’s bold but careful handwriting, started to make sense. Her favorite color was yellow like the sunflowers Mikoto had drawn for her. Her parents were back in Uzushio, where she was from, and she didn’t know what their favorite colors were. And she was going to be hokage when she grew up. Mikoto thought so too.
Today, Kushina said she had a surprise.
“So, tomorrow,” she was saying, eyes bright.
“Tomorrow…?” Mikoto prompted, smiling despite herself.
They'd known each other long enough by now that she could recognize the telltale gleam in Kushina's eyes. She'd seen glints of it whenever she came up with yet another excuse to tell Mikoto's mother — which seemed to be happening weekly, these days — and even more so when Kushina was planning one of her elaborate pranks on their classmates. Today, Kushina looked so deviously excited she was about ready to burst.
"I have a plan."
"What is it?"
Mikoto's tone was carefully disapproving, but she couldn't keep the excitement out of her eyes.
“You'll see!" Kushina said smugly, "It's a surprise! Just ask your mom if you can spend the night at my house, okay? I asked Aunt Mito and she’s fine with it, it’ll be fun! I have a whole night planned!”
At that, Mikoto felt her heart sink. The last time she’d asked her mother if she could stay the night somewhere, the response had been less than ideal. She bit her lip.
“I dunno…what if she says no?”
Behind them, one of the boys from their class snickered.
“Don’t go off alone with the red-hot habanero, she’ll bite your head off,” he muttered, shooting Kushina a glare.
“Shut up,” Kushina snapped, not even bothering to turn around, “or I’ll give you another black eye. Then you’ll have a matching set.”
She said these last words so sweetly that Mikoto nearly burst out laughing. Sure enough, there was a trace of a bruise around the boy’s left eye. Kushina lazily raised a fist in the air, and he scampered away, but not before muttering one last insult over his shoulder.
“Damn tomato girl! Don’t touch me!”
Mikoto raised her eyebrows.
“Getting in fights with the bullies again?”
“Well” Kushina said airily, folding her hands behind her back and doing her best to look innocent, “some of them forgot about last time. I figured they need a reminder.”
Mikoto locked eyes with her and, after a breath, both girls burst out laughing.
“Did you see the look on his face?” Kushina asked between laughs.
Mikoto snorted.
“I wish I’d taken a picture…how does it feel to be Konoha’s fighting tomato?”
“Mikoto–”
“The most dangerous vegetable in the land of fire!” Mikoto went on in a sing-song voice, and Kushina punched her playfully in the arm.
“Shut up!” Kushina said, rolling her eyes, “I swear I’m never eating a tomato again. I’d dye my hair, too, if Aunt Mito would let me. Then maybe they’d shut up for once.”
Mikoto bit her lip.
“Don’t let them get to you. You shouldn’t change your hair just for…I mean it’s…” she paused, groping for words, then finished lamely, "very...you. The color.”
“Thanks,” Kushina said half heartedly, and Mikoto sighed and looked away.
She still thought the red of Kushina’s hair was the prettiest color she’d ever seen. Maybe some day she’d actually be able to tell her.
“I’ll ask my mom about tomorrow,” she said, forcing her mind away from the subject, “but I don’t know what she’ll say. She doesn’t like me seeing people outside the clan much.”
“Well, tell her I’m just so weird and bizarre that nobody else will hang out with me then. Call it an act of charity: the princess and the tomato…”
Kushina trailed off dramatically, and Mikoto swatted her on the arm, stifling another laugh.
“Shut up,” she said good-naturedly, then added, “But that is worth a try.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow after school! I have it all planned. Can’t be real friends ‘till we have a sleep over, right?”
Mikoto did her best to give Kushina a reassuring smile.
“We’ll see."
“I still can’t believe she agreed to this,” Mikoto mumbled as Kushina strode along happily in front of her.
The two girls had left as soon as class got out, and now Kushina was half leading half dragging her across town. Mikoto wasn't sure what to think of this new development. Most of Kushina's grand schemes and adventures didn't begin with a night out.
“If you don’t wanna come you don’t have to,” Kushina called over her shoulder, and Mikoto shook her head quickly.
“No, I want to, it’s just…weird. Haven’t done this sort of thing before.”
Kushina stopped, and gave her an odd look.
“Not at all? Not even when you were little?”
Mikoto shrugged.
“I guess when I was younger. I don’t remember much. Lately mom’s mainly kept me at home, or in the compound.”
“Doing what? We’re kids, what’s she need you there for?”
“Lessons, mainly,” Mikoto said, “Tea ceremonies, cooking, dance…”
Kushina burst out laughing.
“You’re a dancer? Lemme see, I wanna see!”
Mikoto felt her cheeks burn, and instantly regretted saying anything.
“No!” she yelped, jumping back as Kushina leapt towards her with her arms outstretched like she was starting a waltz.
“One two three, one two three,” Kushina chanted, giggling as she twirled across the cobbles of the road.
“S-stop!” Mikoto said, shielding her face with her hands, “Kushina I would die, I’m not gonna dance for you!”
Kushina twirled to a stop, red hair gliding gently back towards the ground as her expression fell into an impish pout.
“Please?” she said, drawing the word out, “I bet you’re really good at it, you’re so graceful.”
Mikoto closed her eyes, and wondered for a moment if she was going to regret spending the night with Kushina after all.
“Aw, fine,” the girl said, interrupting her thoughts, “we’re nearly there anyway. I wanna get in before the dinner rush. Dancing can come later, come on!”
Mumbling under her breath that dancing would definitely not come later, Mikoto followed her as she ran around the corner, and slowed to a halt in front of a red and white awning.
Mikoto blinked.
“A ramen shop?”
Kushina nodded, beaming.
"I mean," Mikoto went on, "I'm sure it's good, but this isn't what I expected when you said you had a surprise."
“This isn't the surprise!" Kushina said hotly, "Just part of it. And anyway, I know you’ll like it. It just opened last month and you won’t believe how good it is. You’re gonna love it, I promise.”
Mikoto grinned.
“I don’t think anyone can love ramen as much as you do, Kushina. But I’m sure I will.”
After one bite of the food, Mikoto had to admit that Kushina was right. For a shop that had only been open for a month or so, Ichiraku Ramen was already amazing.
Next to her, Kushina hummed happily as she took another bite of the ramen.
“Ugh,” she said, leaning forward to take in the smell, “I’ll literally never get enough of this. Ramen is so good Mikoto…”
Mikoto just laughed. The girl’s voice was so serious Mikoto half expected her to shed a tear. Kushina brought passion to everything, really, including food. Quietly, in the back of her mind, Mikoto found herself wondering if she could ever do something to make her smile like that.
“I’ll ask my mom to teach me how to make it, then,” she said, “I think we have an old recipe.”
Kushina beamed.
“I can’t wait!” she said, eyes wide, “I bet you’re an amazing cook…”
“Well, not yet,” Mikoto said quickly, not wanting a repeat of the dancing dilemma, “that’s why I’m taking the lessons.”
Kushina frowned.
“Why are you learning cooking anyway? And tea ceremonies and all that stuff. Isn’t the academy training enough?”
Suddenly, the warm and cozy atmosphere of the ramen shop felt hollow to Mikoto. Suddenly she was acutely aware of the muffled conversations of the other customers, the pricking on the back of her neck whenever someone glanced their way. She bit her lip. She folded her hands carefully across her lap, and felt her back straighten in her chair. An Uchiha can’t be seen slouching. Keep your elbows off the table. She’d heard the words too many times to forget.
“Well,” Mikoto said, carefully watching as the steam rose from the bowl in front of her, “my mom says if I want to find a good husband I need to learn. Cooking, cleaning, flower arranging…”
“Well that’s stupid,” Kushina said simply, lifting her chopsticks to take another bite of ramen, “I mean, you’re so good in the academy. The way the teacher’s are talking you’ll make genin any day now. And you’re smart, and brave, and pretty. Who cares if you can cook?”
“You do, if you want me to make you ramen,” Mikoto said lightly, but even as Kushina laughed she felt something warm and fragile growing in her chest.
She wasn’t brave, though, or pretty. No matter what Kushina said. If she was brave maybe she’d stop hiding behind her mother, and stupid little notes with no name at the end. Kushina would find that out eventually.
She let her mind wander, and forced herself to smile and join in with Kushina’s light, comfortable conversation. She could be happy to be here, and be together, even if she didn’t deserve it.
The rest of the meal went fairly uneventfully, Kushina gossiping about dumb boys in their class and Mikoto laughing in agreement. To her surprise, though, Kushina insisted on paying the bill herself.
“You can do it next time,” she’d said firmly, “this one’s on me.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but Kushina gave her a stern look. Bewildered but not arguing, Mikoto watched as she handed the owner a handful of coins, then followed her as she set off up the road towards Lady Mito’s.
Lady Mito was another surprise. From the way Kushina talked about her and the old stories she’d heard, Mikoto had half assumed the first hokage’s wife would be like some kind of ghost haunting the mansion, or a mummy wrapped up in old linens. Instead, she was a stern but kindly old woman with faded red hair tied up in two buns atop her head, and a firmness to her stare that rather reminded Mikoto of Kushina.
She was also, Mikoto decided, very odd.
“You didn’t tell me your friend was an Uchiha,” Mito said after Mikoto introduced herself, giving the girl a strange look. Her eyes were still sharp, but her features were so gaunt and severe that her glance felt like a scalpel.
“Does it matter?” Kushina asked, and the old woman paused a moment before shaking her head.
“No. Not really. It’s all in the past now, anyway. It’s a pleasure to meet you, young lady.”
Mikoto curtsied awkwardly, and exchanged a confused glance with Kushina before following Mito into the house.
“I’ve set Miss Uchiha up with a mattress next to yours,” she said, “I’d imagine you’d rather be in the same room, yes?”
The girls nodded eagerly, and Mito smiled.
“Kushina, go fetch the extra blankets, would you? They should be upstairs, in the cupboard across from the stairway. I’d like to talk to your young friend for a moment.”
Kushina nodded, and turned to head upstairs. As she slipped past Mikoto, she mouthed “don’t worry,” and gave her a quick wink. Mikoto gave her a nervous smile in return, and then, suddenly, she and Lady Mito were alone.
“I hope you don’t mind if I sit down a moment,” the woman said, turning and walking slowly towards a large, comfortable looking chair. It was, much like its owner, thin and faded with age, but Mikoto could still trace the ornate patterns of the embroidery.
When she finally finished the slow and arduous process of sitting down, Lady Mito fixed Mikoto with another rapier sharp stare, and the girl suddenly felt like a fly under a microscope. She licked her lips, and tried to resist the urge to fidget with her skirt.
“What did you want to talk about?” she managed.
“My great niece. I wanted to ask how she’s getting along. How she’s fitting in with the other students.”
Mikoto opened her mouth to say that she was doing fine, that everyone liked her, but something in the old woman’s eyes told her it wasn’t a good idea to lie.
“Well,” she began, “she does well in her classes. She get’s behind in reading, sometimes, but she’s going to be a good ninja.”
Lady Mito’s eyes bored into hers.
“Is that what she wants to be?”
Mikoto thought back to the way Kushina talked about being a shinobi, the fire in her eyes when she told Mikoto little, impossible dreams about her future. When Kushina talked with that determined passion in her voice, it was hard not to believe her.
“I think so,” Mikoto said finally, then added, smiling to herself, “She says she wants to be the first female hokage.”
Lady Mito pursed her lips.
“She told me the same thing,” she said quietly.
Mikoto waited for her to go on. Something in the tone of her voice made her sure the woman wasn’t done.
“You two are close, yes?” she asked, giving Mikoto a softer look.
The girl blinked in confusion at the change of topic, but nodded.
“Good. She’ll need that.”
The woman turned to look out the window now. The sun had all but set, the sky such a dark red it was nearly violet.
“It’s lonely, in this village hidden in the leaves,” Mito went on, voice soft, eyes glazed over as if remembering something, “away from your family.”
“Um, I can imagine,” Mikoto managed.
“I’m sure you can. My clan, and my husband’s for that matter, have had a rocky history with the Uchiha. Sometimes I wish things had turned out differently…”
The woman trailed off then, and for a moment Mikoto thought she was done talking. She was so ancient that, with her eyes glazed over like that, Mikoto half wondered if she’d fallen asleep. After an uncomfortable eternity, she snapped her gaze towards Mikoto again, and the girl jumped despite herself.
“It is not Kushina’s destiny to become Hokage,” she said, voice firm but distant, “just as it was never mine. She has another role to play. Be there for her when she finds out. Be by her side.”
Mikoto’s eyes were wide. The words were intense, filled with some emotion she couldn't name. Wordlessly, she nodded. Lady Mito opened her mouth to say more, but she was cut off by Kushina’s muffled voice from upstairs.
“Aunt Mito? I can’t find the spare pillows, are you sure they’re in here?”
The woman gave Mikoto a tired smile.
“Just tell her to take one of mine, I don’t need them all,” she said amiably. The steel was gone from her eyes now, but her words still echoed in Mikoto’s mind.
She dipped a quick curtsy, and ran upstairs to help Kushina set up the beds.
“Your great aunt is weird,” Mikoto said in a whisper.
It was hours later now, and the two girls were bundled up on Mikoto’s mattress, leaning against the side of Kushina’s usual bed. Mikoto yawned, burrowing deeper into her blankets and letting herself lean into Kushina’s side.
Kushina giggled.
“She is, right? But she means well. I think she liked you.”
“Liked me?”
“Yeah! Of course she liked you.”
Mikoto frowned.
“If you say so…”
“Trust me. She always acts weird with people she likes. Gives them little tests. I think she was a teacher for ages, and now she’s always, like…I dunno, trying to give me little lessons. It’s sweet, kind of. Just annoying.”
Mikoto thought of her mother, and the way everything Mikoto did seemed like a test before her eyes. Was Lady Mito the same way? She remembered the glint of nostalgia in the looks she’d given her, the steel in her voice when she’d spoken about Kushina’s future. Be there for her.
“I don't think it's that, exactly,” Mikoto mused, leaning her head on Kushina’s shoulder, "maybe she just sees herself in you."
“Oh?”
“Mhm.”
Mikoto tried to think of what else to say, but her mind was already thick with sleep. Being this close to Kushina, she felt…warm. Maybe it was just the layers of blankets, the heat of her own body mingling with Kushina’s under the covers. She was too tired to think about it, let alone to pull away. Slowly, she let her eyes close. She smiled. The room was warm and quiet, with nothing but Kushina’s soft breathing and the ticking of the clock disrupting the silence.
“Don’t fall asleep,” Kushina said, her voice warm as if she was smiling, “we only have a couple minutes left.”
“Till what?” Mikoto managed, cracking one eye open.
Kushina was gazing down at her, eyes soft. A shaft of moonlight fell across her face and down onto the blankets, making them glow a faint white.
“Midnight,” she answered simply.
“What happens then?”
Kushina just grinned.
“What day is it right now?”
Mikoto frowned.
“Friday?” she hazarded.
“May 31st.”
Above them, the minute hand of the clock snapped to 12. Mikoto looked up into Kushina’s eyes.
“Happy birthday,” she whispered down at her, eyes dancing, then added, half laughing, “Surprise!”
For a moment, Mikoto didn’t know what to say. Without thinking, she lunged forward and swept Kushina into a fierce hug. She tried to mumble a thank you, but her face was so buried in the blankets that all that came out was a muffled groan. Kushina laughed, and wrapped her arms around her, squeezing her back just as tight.
When Mikoto finally pulled away from the hug, her eyes were damp, but she was smiling so hard her cheeks nearly ached.
“How did you know?” she asked, “I never said.”
Kushina smiled in a familiar, impish way.
“I snuck into the teachers’ office and read your file,” she said smugly.
Mikoto swatted her on the arm, giggling.
“You could have just asked someone!”
“But then I wouldn’t have got the juicy bits! Like how ‘Mikoto Uchiha is a joy to have in class,’ and how you got a B in–”
“Oh my god, I can’t believe you!” Mikoto said, eyes still watering, but now from laughing as much as tears, “When is yours? You have to tell me when yours is!”
“But then you wouldn’t get to hear all the juicy bits!”
“Oh, I can already guess,” Mikoto said, eyes dancing, “Kushina Uzumaki sends twelve boys to the emergency room for calling her–”
“Stop it!” Kushina yelped, reaching up to her bed and snatching a pillow.
Mikoto ducked as Kushina swung the pillow towards her, then, before the other girl had time to react, grabbed a pillow of her own and joined the fray. Soon, the blankets were a tangled mess, both girls attacking the other mercilessly until they fell in a tumble to the floor. They rolled for a moment, blankets twisted around them, Mikoto laughing so hard her throat felt hoarse. Finally, they came to a stop with Mikoto flat on her back and Kushina perched on top of her, holding a pillow to her throat like a dagger.
“I surrender!” Mikoto said, still giggling to herself.
Kushina looked down at her triumphantly, then tossed the pillow aside. Looking back at Mikoto, her gaze softened. Suddenly, Mikoto became acutely aware that Kushina was half sitting half lying on top of her.
“Uhh–” she began, eyes wide and cheeks quickly turning pink, but Kushina leaned down until they were face to face and put a finger over her lips.
“Shh! You’ll wake Aunt Mito.”
Kushina’s soft red hair cascaded down to the floor, falling like velvet curtains on either side of Mikoto’s head. For the second time since she’d met her, Kushina was so close that she could feel her breath on her face, see the flutter of her eyelashes. Holding her breath, she nodded, and Kushina gave her a small wink before straightening, and standing up, leaving Mikoto tangled in the blankets.
Just as Mikoto was starting to untangle her legs, Kushina spoke again.
“Wait! I forgot, there’s more! I’ll be back.”
Before Mikoto could ask what she meant, Kushina had slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.
She came back about a minute later holding something behind her back, and smiling nervously.
“So, this seemed like a much better idea before you said you were literally taking cooking lessons,” she said, cheeks turning a light pink, “but it’s your birthday, so.”
Without finishing the sentence, she took the mystery item out from behind her back and thrust it in front of Mikoto. It looked like a cake. Well, it was hard to see in the dark of the room, but even so Mikoto could tell that the word “cake” might be a bit generous. It was lopsided, caving in on the left and folding over itself in the middle. There was a generous amount of chocolate frosting on top, along with thirteen candles, but even to Mikoto’s generous eye it didn’t help much.
“I know it kind of fell apart,” Kushina said, trying to sound nonchalant, “but it tastes good.”
“It looks beautiful,” Mikoto said, but she couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice.
“I tried my best! We aren’t all training to be princesses,” Kushina said hotly, but Mikoto just reached around the cake and gave her another hesitant hug.
“I love it,” she said quietly, “I’m sure it’ll taste amazing.”
It did, for the most part. There was an awkward moment when Kushina realized she’d brought forks but no plates, but Mikoto just laughed it off.
“We can eat off the plate it’s on! We’re just splitting it two ways.”
Kushina looked doubtful.
“Half a cake each? I didn’t bake it that small…”
“Just eat what you want and we’ll deal with it in the morning.”
Kushina nodded in reluctant agreement, but then clapped a hand over her mouth.
“Oh, shit, I forgot matches too!” she said, giving Mikoto a pained expression, “I’m sorry, I was so excited I just–"
“Shh, it’s fine,” Mikoto said, smiling despite herself — she’d never seen Kushina so flustered, “Just watch, ok?”
Mikoto closed her eyes, and folded her hands in front of her. The shape of the tiger seal was almost second nature by now. Her mother had her practice it every day when she was little, and now she felt it in her fingertips without even having to think. Frowning, she focused her mind on the familiar spark that always came with fire release techniques. Her heart was racing in her chest, but she tried to keep her head clear — if she got too excited she’d burn a hole in Lady Mito’s wall.
She whispered the name of the technique under her breath, and felt a familiar spark travel up her arm and into her fingertips. There was a gasp, and she smiled in satisfaction.
She opened her eyes, and, sure enough, the tip of her right index finger was lit with a tiny orange flame. She looked up at Kushina, and grinned. The girl’s eyes were wide, two tiny reflections of the flame reflected in them like tiny mirrors in the dim light of the room.
“See? Who needs matches,” Mikoto said, unable to keep the pride from slipping into her voice.
She bent down to carefully light the candles, keeping her mind on the flame in case it got out of her control. Kushina leaned down to watch her, and the candle fire flickered treacherously as Mikoto’s eyes darted up to her. Quickly, she calmed the flame, and got back to work.
“Where did you learn that?” Kushina asked, “I thought we weren’t gonna do any elemental techniques ‘till we’re genin.”
Mikoto shrugged.
“We’re close to fire, my family and me,” she said, lighting the last wick, “I’ve been doing little jutsu like this since I was a kid. I’m only just learning the bigger stuff, things I could actually use in a fight.”
She felt her face redden a bit at the admission that a candle flame was still about all she could manage, but Kushina didn’t seem to care.
“Still,” the girl said, “I wish I knew how to do that…”
“I guess could teach you,” Mikoto said, carefully covering the flame with her other hand and willing it to disappear, “And I’m sure Lady Mito knows a lot. She could probably show you some. Maybe some Uzumaki jutsu, too.”
She hesitantly looked up to gauge Kushina’s reaction, and was met with a smile. The girl had looked up from the candles, and was gazing fondly at her.
“That’s a good idea…honestly, you’re so smart.”
For once Mikoto didn’t look down, or shy away from the complement. Instead, she met Kushina’s eyes with her own.
“You really think so?”
“Yeah. I do.”
Below them, the candles flickered, casting warm shadows around the room.
“Quick,” Kushina said, finally breaking the silence, “make a wish! The candles are gonna burn out.”
Mikoto blinked, then nodded. She bent down the blow the candles out, a wish already forming in her mind. Smiling to herself, she closed her eyes, and blew the candles out. Now the room was lit by nothing but the moon and the gentle amber lamplight from under the door.
“What’cha wish for?” Kushina asked, tilting her head to one side. Even in the scarce light, Mikoto could make out an impish smile.
“Not telling,” she said, smiling back, “otherwise it won’t come true.”
“Just a hint?”
Mikoto didn’t respond. Instead, she leaned back against Kushina’s bed, and let her eyes gently close. The smell of candle smoke lingered in the air, and in that moment Mikoto found herself thinking nothing smelled more like home.
“Thank you,” she said, voice small.
“It’s nothing, really,” Kushina started, but Mikoto shook her head.
“Not the cake, just…all of this.”
“I’m not done yet! I have some presents downstairs, I can go get them if you want!”
Mikoto smiled.
“No, it’s alright. I’m sure they’re amazing. We can look at them in the morning.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure,” she said firmly, “Right now I just…I dunno. I want to be here."
Without speaking, Kushina walked across the room and sat beside her on the mattress. She reached down, gently took Mikoto’s hand, and laced her fingers with hers.
“If that’s what you want, I’ll be here too. As long as you’ll have me, I’ll be here.”
Mikoto squeezed her hand.
“Stupid,” she muttered, smiling and leaning against Kushina’s shoulder, “it’s your house.”
Kushina shrugged.
“Still. I know it hasn’t been long but…I’m glad I met you.”
The words were so simple, so earnest that Mikoto didn’t know how to respond. So she just sat there. At some point she must have fallen asleep. She didn’t care much — even when she woke up, when the first rays of sun drifted through the window, she could feel the warmth of Kushina’s hand in hers.
Dear Future Hokage,
Happy birthday! I can’t fit a real present in an envelope, but I wanted to give you something. We haven’t really been writing each other that long, but it feels like I’ve known you forever. Thank you for making my life a little less lonely.
Now, your presents:
First, some seeds from my family’s garden. We have sunflowers in bloom, and I know you like them, so I put as many seeds as I could find in the envelope with this letter. There’s also a packet of peony seeds we bought from Mr. Yamanaka at the flower shop, but we weren’t ever going to use them. I don’t know if you’ll like them, but they’re the same color as your hair, so they reminded me of you. I hid another gift in a parcel tied to one of the branches of the tree. That one is a surprise!
All the best,
Your secret admirer.
Winter. You are fourteen years old, and I’m not there when you need me.
When Mikoto saw the first strand of hair, she didn’t think much of it.
Kushina had been missing that day in class. The teacher had told them she was probably just under the weather, or playing hooky. The other students had laughed — Kushina wasn’t known for being the most diligent student — but all day Mikoto couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
At lunch time, a boy had come up to her with a question in his eyes. His blond hair was soft but unruly, and his voice was careful as he pulled her aside.
“I know we haven’t talked much,” he began, “but you’re friends with Miss Uzumaki, right?”
“Yeah, I am. Why?”
“Did she say anything to you?” he went on, “About feeling sick, or skipping class?”
“No,” Mikoto said quietly, “But...well, I don’t know. She doesn’t tell me everything, maybe the teacher is right, or–”
“Thank you,” the boy said quickly, giving her a grateful look even as he cut her off, “that’s all I needed to know.”
And then he was gone. He was missing when they all came back from lunch, too. All day long, Mikoto couldn’t shake the feeling growing slowly in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t concentrate in class, couldn’t make her kunai hit the mark. Eventually the teacher, exasperated, told her to head home early. Embarrassed but grateful, Mikoto packed her bag and set out.
The walk home was long and quiet. Most of the adults in the village were at work, and the path back to the Uchiha compound didn’t take her by any businesses open this hour. When she got to the final crossroads on the walk home, she paused, and took a breath. The sun was getting low in the sky now, the winter days so short that it would be nearly set by the time she made it all the way home.
And still, something wasn’t right.
On impulse, she turned, and started back towards the academy. In the back of her head, a slow, nagging feeling of dread was getting stronger and stronger. Halfway back to the academy, something in her, some intuition or scrap of a memory made her turn right onto a small dirt side road. She was half jogging now, the dread turning to panic. Now the memory was slowly, treacherously rising in her mind. A scrap of red hair, torn and dirtied but unmistakably hers, poking out from the top of the fence, leading…where?
Finally, she reached the end of the path. The village ended here, this section of the wall old and ill-repaired enough that it was overgrown with vines, half crumbling apart in places. It had been decades since any threat had come close enough to Konoha that they needed repairs. Now, there were holes wide enough a grown man could fit through.
And there was another strand of hair.
Mikoto heard her heart racing in her ears, pounding like an echo of her feet against the dirt of the old path. How long since she had been taken? There was no mistaking the red of Kushina’s hair, no way this could be a coincidence. How long did she have left? Was she too late? And what did she have, even — a handful of fire jutsu, a spare kunai, a good eye? What would she do if she found Kushina captured, or worse, found her–
She squeezed her eyes shut, and clenched her fists, fingernails digging into her palms until her racing thoughts stilled. How many minutes had she wasted even now, even knowing that Kushina was in danger?
Why hadn’t she ran here the instant she saw the first strand of hair?
Mikoto shook her head, fighting the thoughts away, and set off through the hole in the wall, half sprinting half leaping from tree to tree. Her mind was still a blur, but her muscles at least knew what to do. This was second nature to her by now. Leap, catch a handhold there, keep your mind clear. Don’t worry what you’ll do when you find her. Just find her. Just find her.
And in the back of her head, a slow, treacherous thought was growing louder. She had known, hadn’t she? The instant she saw the hair, she had to have known. And even then, she did nothing, pretended she hadn’t seen. She was just a coward. Ignore it, hope it goes away. Her friend could be hurt, or worse, and it would be her fault.
She clenched her teeth. She didn’t have time for this. Quickly, she withdrew her kunai, and readied it in one hand. The trail was getting sparser now, the spaces between each lock of hair wider and wider. She cursed under her breath. Idiot. Running into battle with what, one knife? One throw could be enough if her aim was good, and she knew it was, but–
In front of her, the trail of hair stopped. She staggered to a halt. She was in a clearing now, the trees nothing but gaunt shadows in the quickly fading evening light. Breath ragged, her eyes darted around the clearing, searching for some sign of where to go, of what had happened. In moments, she took in a scrap of torn fabric, the scar of a blade against the bark of a tree. A fleck of red staining the fallen leaves.
She felt her legs give out below her, and stumbled forward, just barely catching her herself as her knees folded to the ground. Her mind was still hot and sharp with panic. Even as she felt despair rise in her like the roiling gray clouds of a storm, she couldn’t seem to cry.
She was too late.
In the back of her mind, part of her, her rational self, knew that it wasn’t certain yet. Kushina could have gotten free. There were signs of a fight, yes, but no body, no telling what had happened for sure. Kushina was strong, and brave. Braver than she was.
If Mikoto was the one who was taken, who was in danger, Kushina would have been there for her.
She slammed a fist against the ground, eyes squeezed shut and breaths cutting sharp and shallow in her chest. Below her, on the ground, the last scrap of hair glowed deep red in the evening light. And then, in a moment, the sun dipped below the shadow of the trees. The ruby glow of the hair faded, and Mikoto was alone.
An hour had passed, now.
The sun was so low in the sky that Mikoto could barely see it over the horizon. She was sitting, legs drawn up against her chest, at the edge of a dock on a small lake at the edge of town. This was the last part of the village on the way to the Uchiha compound, to home. If she stopped here, never went back, maybe it wouldn’t be over. Not yet. But the thought felt hollow even to her. Around her, no wind blew, no crickets or insects of the evening stirred. The sun was just an outline against the distant hills, with no scrap of sunlight reaching the lake. Below her, the water stretched out like an inky mirror.
She had stopped crying, now. For what seemed like an eternity the tears wouldn’t come, and then for another eternity she couldn’t seem to stop. Her eyes were red rimmed, her face still damp, but now she just sat, staring at the water.
She didn’t hear when, eventually, soft footsteps came up the dock behind her.
“Hey,” said a quiet, familiar voice.
Kushina.
Mikoto couldn’t turn around. She felt relief surge in her chest, so great and full and desperate it felt like a white-hot dagger, but still she couldn’t look at her.
“Hey,” Kushina said again, closer this time, voice soft and urgent, “I’m here, it’s okay. What’s wrong?”
She was worried about her. After all this, and Mikoto was the one she was worrying about, who she was there for. Wordlessly, she unclenched one of her hands, and placed its contents on the wood of the dock beside her.
“Oh.”
The last lock of hair shone its usual red, even in the dim light of the evening.
“You found me,” Kushina went on, and Mikoto felt a wave of guilt rise inside her. Kushina sounded…warm. Happy, even. But she didn’t understand. Mikoto shook her head.
“I didn’t make it in time."
“But you saw, and you tried. And I’m okay.”
Mikoto felt a warm hand on her shoulder, then, as Kushina knelt down beside her.
“You did enough. I was hoping it would be you, who found me.”
The words were so gentle that Mikoto felt tears prickling behind her eyes again. Unable to help herself, she looked up, and saw Kushina smiling down at her, gaze soft and warm. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find a shred of hurt or accusation in her eyes.
“But I didn’t,” Mikoto said, fighting to keep her voice steady even as her eyes welled up again, “I saw the trail you left, and I didn’t…I was a coward. I’m such a coward Kushina.”
The words came out trembling now, Mikoto’s back shaking as she drew in rough, heaving breaths.
Kushina didn’t speak. Instead, she sat down beside her, and wrapped her arms around her. Mikoto didn’t have the energy to pull away. She felt herself sink into Kushina’s arms, burying her face in the folds of her dress. Even now, through all the guilt and shame, she couldn’t help but feel warm and safe, so close to her.
“I’m so sorry,” she managed, voice small, “I’m so, so glad you’re okay. You’re right, that should be enough, I just…I wish I’d been brave enough for you.
“You’re here now,” Kushina said, “that’s enough for me.”
She reached up and ran a hand gently through Mikoto’s hair. The prickling behind her eyes was fading now, the tears pushed down for the moment, but she didn’t move. She just kept her face buried against her friend’s shoulder.
“What happened?” she asked, voice small, “Did they hurt you?”
Kushina shook her head.
“Just my pride,” she said, “It was a few shinobi from another village, I think. They were…going to take me somewhere.”
“Why?”
Kushina was silent for a while, then. Finally, she shrugged.
“Something Aunt Mito told me,” she said quietly, and Mikoto could tell she didn’t want to talk about it any more. She wouldn’t push her, not today. It was the least she could do.
“How’d you get out?” she asked instead, “Did you fight them?”
“Someone found me,” Kushina said simply, and suddenly Mikoto knew.
“The blond boy,” she said, “the blond boy with the…he asked about you."
Above her, she felt Kushina nod.
“His name’s Minato.”
Her voice was soft, almost dreamy as she mentioned the boy's name. And, suddenly, Mikoto felt all the warmth in her drain away.
“What’s he like?” she asked, voice dull, only half listening as Kushina went on.
“He’s super strong! I would’ve gotten away on my own, but, well, you should have seen him, he was…amazing,” she giggled to herself, “He’s so polite in class I figured he’d be useless in a fight.”
Kushina paused, then went on, almost embarrassed.
“He, uh. Said he liked my hair, too. Can you believe that? I know I should feel shaken up by all this, or, well, or something. But I just keep thinking…”
“Mhm,” Mikoto managed.
Beside her, Kushina pulled away, leaning back to look at the dusky red of the sky.
“You know,” she said after a moment, swinging her legs as they hung over the edge of the dock, “I was never really sure what people meant. When they talked about crushes and stuff, you know?”
Mikoto nodded silently, eyes fixed on the inky darkness of the water. She should feel happy for her, she knew, but instead she just felt…small. Ashamed that even now she could only think of herself. What was it she even wanted? She hadn’t been there when Kushina needed her. He had.
“But with this kid, with Minato…” Kushina was saying, voice still soft and warm, “I get it, I think. This is how I’m supposed to feel, when a boy I like talks to me. And I do really like him. So. Now I know.”
“I’m happy for you.”
The words felt hollow even to her. She should leave, she thought, tell Kushina she was happy she was safe and go crawl under her covers and never see her again.
“Kushina, I–” she began, but the girl was still talking.
“Mikoto, just. Wait a moment,” she said, giving her a careful smile, “I…well. Now that I know, I know something else, too.”
Her voice was quiet now, only just above a whisper.
“What do you mean?” Mikoto said, carefully looking up to meet Kushina’s eyes. To her surprise, the girl was blushing.
Kushina bit her lip.
“I…can’t say with you looking at me like that,” she said, lowering her eyes and giving an awkward smile, “Can you just…close your eyes? For a sec?”
Confused, Mikoto did as she was told. For a moment, echoes of evening light played across her eyelids as her vision adjusted to the dark. Then there was just blackness. In front of her, she heard Kushina take a breath.
“Now that I know how it’s supposed to feel,” she said, voice small and careful, “I know he’s…not the first.”
There was a pause, and Mikoto frowned slightly, trying to imagine what Kushina could mean. Finally, the girl went on, voice shaky but determined.
“W-what I mean, is. Well. I think I feel that way about you, too. I, um. I have since the beginning, I think.”
For a moment, there was nothing but silence. The words echoed in Mikoto’s mind over and over again. The shame, the fear, the anger at herself — all of them were drowned out. I feel that way about you, too.
“Please say something,” Kushina said suddenly, voice close and frantic, “Mikoto, I didn’t mean–”
Mikoto opened her eyes, and, without waiting for Kushina to finish speaking, leaned forward until they were just inches away. Suddenly, she knew exactly what to do. For a moment, nothing else in the world really mattered.
She kissed her.
It wasn’t a long kiss. It was short, and soft, and clumsy, and the instant their lips touched Mikoto couldn’t find a single thought in her head. There was only the warmth of Kushina’s lips against her own, the sound of her heart beating in her ears. And it was…right. She knew it could only have lasted a moment, but in another, truer way, it felt like the kiss went on forever.
And then the moment passed. She pulled away, breathless, and opened her eyes. Kushina was staring back at her, eyes wide, red hair — beautiful red hair — silhouetted against a sky almost the same color.
And, in that instant, something shifted. It wasn’t a pain, or even a feeling at all, at least not one she could name. It was just that one moment she was looking at the world the way she always did, and the next, it was…different. Suddenly she could see the way the light shone off each individual strand of Kushina’s hair, the way the sunset caught tiny almost imperceptible ripples in the water behind. She saw every shade of the blush on Kushina’s cheeks, and each one was something to treasure. Her eyes, too, such a dark blue-gray they were almost violet. Every shadow, every scrap of light, laid out before her like a painting.
“You’re beautiful,” she said, and for once the words came without a shred of fear. They were just true.
In front of her, Kushina was gaping.
“I…you,” she began, eyes widening further as she groped for words, “…you...kissed me, and then…”
Mikoto smiled despite herself. She’d never noticed how lovely Kushina’s eyelashes were before. Now, every detail seemed clear.
“I did,” she said, and Kushina’s blush deepened.
“But then,” the girl stammered, “I mean, your eyes…”
Mikoto frowned.
“My eyes?”
“Look!” Kushina insisted, grabbing her shoulders and turning her so they were both facing the still dark water.
Mikoto looked. Her face was the same as it always was. Nothing special. She took in her features — straight black hair, gently arching eyebrows, dark lashes, and…her eyes. She blinked. She leaned in close to the water, and stared.
“Does it hurt?” Kushina asked, and Mikoto shook her head.
“No, it’s fine, it’s…” she blinked. What could she say?
“But they’re red, are they…what happened?”
In the dark mirror of the lake, Mikoto’s reflection stared back at her. She blinked, and watched as two ruby red eyes blinked back from below.
“It’s the sharingan,” she said, half to herself, “but it isn’t supposed to…I mean. It’s an Uchiha thing. I told you we have special eyes, right?”
She glanced over to Kushina’s reflection beside hers, and saw the girl nod.
“Well…this is what I meant. But it’s not supposed to happen like this, there’s supposed to be danger, or…or something.”
She looked back to her own reflection. The clarity she’d felt, the lingering warmth of the kiss…all of it was fading now, slipping away as she grappled to understand what had happened. Slowly, the edges of the world started to feel fuzzy and indistinct again. Below, in the water, the red of her eyes began to fade away.
Kushina yelped.
“They’re going away! Is that supposed to happen?”
“I…think so?” Mikoto managed, “I don’t really know how it…I mean, I’m not sure why they did that in the first place, let alone what they’re doing now.”
“How do we get them back?”
“I…what?”
Mikoto looked up. Kushina was staring at her oddly, the trace of a smile forming at the edge of her lips.
“You said it was special, right? Well how do we get it back?”
“I don’t know,” Mikoto managed.
“Well,” said Kushina, smile broadening into a grin, “I have an idea.”
Mikoto opened her mouth to ask what she meant, but before she could manage a word Kushina was leaning forward. She stopped an inch from her face, and peered up at Mikoto through her eyelashes.
“Is this okay?” she asked.
“Well,” Mikoto managed, “purely as an experiment.”
Her voice was teasing, but Kushina didn’t laugh. Instead, she leaned forward, and soon the inch between them was gone. The last kiss had been short, but this one was longer, slower. Gentler. When they finally pulled away, a strand of Kushina’s hair had fallen in front of her face, and Mikoto reached forward to fondly, carefully brush it aside.
“Did it work?” she asked, eyes dancing.
Kushina nodded.
“It did,” she said, “but I think we should try again just to be sure.”
Mikoto agreed.
Later that night, back home, Mikoto stood in the bathroom, hands resting on either side of the sink. She stared into the mirror. Same dark eyes, same dark hair. Now, alone, the panic and relief of the day felt like barely more than a dream — someone else’s memory. Still, the feelings were there. And the kiss. She took a breath, and closed her eyes.
Carefully, keeping her voice just above a whisper in case anyone heard, she spoke.
“I’m in love,” she said softly.
Once, the words would have felt like a confession. Now, they spread like the sunrise through her chest. She remembered the way Kushina had looked at her, the way time had seemed to slow down around them, the warmth of her skin against her own. She held the feeling in her heart, and opened her eyes. In the mirror, her dark irises gently bloomed into red.
They were the same red as Kushina’s hair, she realized. Just the same shade.
With that red in her eyes, on her lips, in her chest, she felt…pretty. The word rose unbidden in her mind, but, staring at her reflection in the mirror, and glow of red against the shadows of her face…she hadn’t felt that way in a long time.
She closed her eyes, and, carefully, willed the feeling away. When she opened them again, the red was gone. But it was still there, she knew. It was still a part of her. It always would be.
My Dear Tomato,
I finally have a secret admirer too.
She's the prettiest girl I've ever met, and I don't know what I did to deserve her. She's the bravest person I know, and the funniest, and the strongest, and every time I see her I feel like my heart is too big for my chest. And she's kind, too. She's much too kind to me, and if I have to I'll spend every day of my life trying to pay her back for everything she's given me. I wish the summer would never end. I have this funny, giddy feeling, like I'm worried we'll run out of kisses, or days together, but I don't care either way. Even if I live to be a thousand years old, I'm never forgetting this summer. I'm never forgetting her, either.
I won't tell you who she is, though. After all, that's why it's a secret!
Lots of love,
Your secret admirer