Ch.013 Maybe… all I can do is love him.

[~1550 Words]

~ A few days before the Uchiha Massacre.

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Location: Kurenai's Apartment – Nightfall

The lanterns of Konoha glowed softly as Kurenai walked the familiar path toward her apartment, her sandal steps quiet against the stone. The breeze carried the scent of night jasmine and cooled her flushed cheeks, but her thoughts were anything but calm.

Her fingers were still tingling from where Haruki had held her.

And her heart… it wouldn't settle down.

She unlocked the door to her home, stepped inside, and closed it gently behind her. The silence welcomed her like an old friend—one she had grown used to. Too used to.

She sat on the cushion near her low table, fingers absently trailing over the rim of her half-full teacup from earlier. The room smelled faintly of lavender and sandalwood—comforting scents she'd once thought she'd always return to alone.

But now… there was someone else.

Uchiha Haruki.

Her thoughts drifted back to the moment he introduced her to his sister. To Izumi's gleeful face. To the quiet storm in Haruto's eyes. And to the sobering conversation that followed.

"Don't tell anyone."

She understood the danger. The logic. The shadows swirling around the Uchiha name. But even so, a part of her rebelled at the secrecy. At the fact that loving someone like him—someone warm, thoughtful, good—could put a mark on her back.

Still… it didn't scare her enough to leave.

She leaned back against the wall, arms around her knees, head resting to the side as she stared toward the darkened corner of her room.

"Asuma would've walked away," she murmured aloud.

Her voice sounded small in the silence.

And she realized… she hadn't thought of Asuma in days.

The exact curve of his face was starting to blur. His eyes. His voice. His presence.

It didn't fill her thoughts and heart anymore.

It didn't hurt anymore.

I don't miss him, she thought. Not really. Not who he was. Not what we were.

What they had was convenient. Familiar. But it was always on his terms. Always with distance, hesitance, and excuses. He never once talked about the future. About them. About anything beyond the next mission.

But Haruki?

Haruki had stood before his sister and father and said—"We'll live a long life. With cute kids."

He saw her. Not just as a kunoichi. Not just as a comrade. But as someone to protect. Someone worth planning a life with.

Her eyes stung.

She turned her face away and wiped the corner with her sleeve. She didn't even know she'd started crying.

"This isn't supposed to happen so fast," she whispered. "I'm not that kind of woman."

But somehow, she didn't feel rushed. She didn't feel foolish.

She felt loved. And that terrified her more than anything.

Kurenai stood and walked to her window. The lights of the village shimmered like embers below. Somewhere, Haruki was probably still awake—maybe training, maybe watching over Izumi.

He's walking into fire, she thought. And I'm just standing here behind paper walls, unable to stop it.

She clenched her fists against the windowsill.

`There has to be something I can do. A way to help him without painting a target on him… or myself.´

But nothing came. Every idea she chased ended in danger. Exposure. Risk.

She knew too well what it meant to work under the radar. To manipulate information, to read people. And she hated that she couldn't find a perfect answer here.

"No leverage. No safe moves. No plan."

Just silence.

And the ache of helplessness.

Her fingers loosened as she leaned forward, resting her forehead against the wood of the window frame.

"Maybe… all I can do is love him."

And somehow… that felt like the bravest act of all.

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Location: Uchiha Household – Late Morning

The soft knock at the gate was rhythmic—just enough to signal familiarity, not formality.

Haruki slid the door open slightly, a knowing smile already tugging at his lips. "Kurenai."

She stood just outside, scroll tucked under her arm, her red eyes glinting in the daylight. "I was in the area. Thought I'd stop by and see if Izumi wanted a quick Genjutsu refresher."

Haruki stepped aside to let her in. "Of course. And by complete coincidence, I just finished cooking enough food to feed four people."

Kurenai raised a brow. "Oh? That is convenient."

"I have a gift for timing," Haruki said, leading her in.

Inside, Izumi's face lit up the moment she saw her. "Kurenai-sensei! You're back?!"

Kurenai laughed. "Didn't want your skills getting rusty."

From the hallway, Haruto stepped out, raising a brow at the familiar voice. His expression was unreadable—but he offered a curt nod. "You're welcome here… under the pretense of training."

Kurenai bowed politely. "Of course, Haruto-san."

The table was set, bowls steaming with rice, grilled mackerel, rolled omelets, and miso soup. Haruki carried in the last dish—a lacquered tray of pickled vegetables and dumplings.

"All this just for training?" Kurenai asked, eyeing the spread.

"Training the stomach is still training," Haruki replied, sliding into his spot beside her.

Izumi giggled and leaned toward her brother. "You're showing off."

Haruki reached beneath the table and, with subtle confidence, slipped his fingers into Kurenai's hand beneath the cloth. She tensed slightly, then gave a soft squeeze in return, cheeks faintly pink.

Haruto pretended not to notice.

As they ate, Haruki kept it casual—making small comments about how Kurenai should visit more often for "professional" reasons, praising her chopstick precision, and occasionally leaning close to whisper something just out of earshot.

Kurenai chuckled quietly, trying not to smile too wide, but Izumi saw it all.

"You two are really bad at hiding it," she teased, pointing her chopsticks.

Haruki shrugged. "We're not hiding anything."

"Except from the village," Haruto muttered under his breath, though there was no real bite behind it. Just hint of caution for them.

Kurenai sipped her soup, then nudged Haruki with her elbow, whispering, "Stop flirting in front of your family."

"I can't help it. You look dangerously pretty with steamed rice in your hair."

Her eyes widened, and she quickly reached up to fix it—only to find nothing. Haruki grinned.

Izumi laughed out loud. "Oh my god, you're worse than Anko-san!"

"I'll take that as a compliment," Haruki said, still holding Kurenai's hand beneath the table.

They ate together as if they had done it a hundred times before. As if the storm outside the compound walls didn't exist.

As the meal ended, Haruto stood and stretched. "Izumi. Help me clear the dishes."

"But I did it last time!"

Haruto gave her a pointed look.

Izumi groaned, dramatically shuffling to her feet. "Fine. I'll do it. But only because I like Kurenai-sensei."

Once they left, Haruki turned to Kurenai near the front door. "You're not in a hurry, are you?"

Kurenai blinked, smirking. "I was about to say goodbye—"

He suddenly pressed her back gently against the doorframe, arms bracing on either side, and kissed her.

Hard.

It wasn't rushed. It wasn't desperate.

It was possessive. Deep. His hands slid around her waist, pulling her close. Her arms slipped up around his neck as she melted into it, sighing softly against his mouth.

He tilted his head and deepened it, taking his time—lips brushing hers in slow, deliberate waves. Her fingers curled into his shirt. His palm ran down the length of her spine.

Ten minutes passed like seconds. Breathless and warm, their bodies pressed together, completely forgetting they weren't alone.

Until—

A deep throat-clearing cut through the air like a kunai.

They froze.

His father Haruto stood at the end of the hallway, arms crossed.

"I'll give you both the benefit of the doubt," he said dryly, "and assume she was choking on something and you were providing extended… mouth-to-mouth."

Kurenai flushed bright red. Haruki just grinned. "That's one way to describe it."

Haruto pointed toward the door. "Now, you may say goodbye."

Kurenai quickly stepped back, fixing her hair, trying not to look mortified. She bowed politely—too quickly—and turned toward the gate.

Izumi popped her head from the kitchen, grinning. "Ten minutes, nii-san? You're getting bold."

"Don't encourage him," Haruto said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Kurenai waved, still pink in the cheeks but smiling genuinely. "Thank you for lunch… and the lesson."

Haruki leaned in one last time at the threshold, whispering in her ear, "Next time, I'm cooking breakfast."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're impossible."

"And yours."

With a final breathy laugh, she walked away down the path—hands brushing over her lips, heart still racing.

Behind her, the house faded into quiet again.

But the heat she'd left behind lingered.

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