Chapter 6 She is my "Wife"

The scene shifted to the hut where Hiro and Mikoto had been staying for the past few weeks.

The remnants of their presence were unmistakable: scattered firewood, the remains of a fruit meal, and faint footprints leading away from the hut.

In the nearby trees, four figures appeared, clad in black cloaks and wearing white animal masks. 

They moved with practiced silence, their presence barely disturbing the night. Upon reaching the hut, they spread out, inspecting the area with keen eyes.

The leader of the group scanned the surroundings, taking in the evidence. "It's clear someone stayed here," he said, his voice low but authoritative. "Follow the trail."

The ninjas moved swiftly, following the faint footprints left behind. Their movements were stealthy and precise, barely making a sound as they advanced. 

The forest grew denser around them, the moonlight casting long shadows that danced with every step. The pursuit was on, and they wouldn't stop until they found their targets.

 ...

The scene shifted back to Hiro and Mikoto, who were now deep into the Land of Waterfalls.

The lush landscape and serene atmosphere were a welcome change from the tense journey they had endured. 

In the distance, they spotted a small village nestled among the rolling hills.

The village was quaint and picturesque, with narrow streets and charming, traditional houses. 

Upon arriving at the village's edge, Hiro and Mikoto made their way to the village square, where an elderly man with a kind face and a dignified presence sat at a small wooden table outside his office.

Hiro and Mikoto approached him, bowing respectfully.

"Good evening," Hiro began, his tone polite yet firm. "My name is Hio, and this is ikoto. 

We've recently arrived and are looking for a place to stay while we get our bearings. We've heard this village is peaceful and would like to request permission to rent a home here."

The village head, who introduced himself as Yoshiro, studied them for a moment, noting their worn appearance and modest demeanor. "Greetings, Hio and ikoto. 

We welcome travelers who respect our way of life. There are a few vacant houses on the outskirts of the village, but we only offer them to couples." His tone carried a hint of seriousness.

"Are you two…?"

Mikoto's face betrayed a flicker of surprise and discomfort at the question, her eyes darting to Hiro. Before she could respond, Hiro stepped forward, his voice steady and confident.

"Yes, we are," he replied smoothly. "She is my wife." He gave Mikoto a reassuring glance, hoping to ease her unease.

Mikoto hesitated briefly, confusion evident in her eyes. 

She hadn't anticipated this complication, but with no other option, she chose to play along. With a deep breath, she nodded, her expression softening into a semblance of acceptance.

The village head scrutinized Mikoto for a moment, noting her youthful appearance despite her apparent age. 

Her graceful demeanor and the way she carried herself seemed to satisfy his curiosity. Yoshiro's eyes conveyed a mixture of understanding and approval.

"Very well," Yoshiro said with a warm smile. "I'll guide you to your house. Follow me."

He led them down a narrow path lined with blooming flowers and small, well-kept homes. 

The village exuded serenity, with the gentle hum of daily life providing a comforting backdrop.

As they walked, Yoshiro made polite conversation, asking about their journey and offering bits of local advice.

"This village is peaceful, but we take care of our own," Yoshiro explained. "If you need anything or have any questions, don't hesitate to ask."

Hiro nodded, grateful for the village head's kindness. "Thank you. We'll make sure to respect the local customs and contribute to the community."

They arrived at a modest house on the edge of the village, nestled beside a small garden with a view of the river.

Tall trees surrounded the property, offering ample privacy and a sense of seclusion.

"This will be your home for as long as you need it," Yoshiro said, gesturing towards the house. "I hope you find it comfortable. If you need anything, my door is always open."

Hiro and Mikoto thanked him, and after a polite exchange, Yoshiro departed, leaving them to settle into their new residence.

Once inside, Mikoto finally broke the silence, her tone tinged with rare anger. "Why did you say we're married?"

Hiro shrugged, setting down their belongings. "It was the easiest way to ensure we'd be accepted and given a place to stay. It's better than trying to explain ourselves too much."

Mikoto sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "I suppose it makes sense."

Hiro chuckled lightly. "We'll just keep to ourselves and make sure no one questions our presence."

In the days that followed, Hiro and Mikoto settled into a routine, trying to blend in with the villagers while remaining vigilant.

Their days in the small village were a blend of simplicity and careful routine, echoing the peaceful lifestyle they had rarely experienced before. 

Every morning, Hiro would wake up early, his body conditioned from years of training, and start his day with light taijutsu exercises. 

At night, after the village had quieted and everyone was asleep, Hiro would accompany Mikoto to the back mountain to help her regain her Jonin strength.

The villagers had grown fond of the quiet couple. Hiro, with his unassuming demeanor, assisted with tasks that required strength and skill. 

He helped in the fields, repaired tools, and occasionally sparred with some of the younger men, showing them basic self-defense techniques—just enough to protect themselves from wild animals, but not enough to reveal his true abilities.

Mikoto, on the other hand, found solace in the village's small garden. She spent her time tending to the plants, her hands moving deftly as she cared for the herbs and flowers. 

The children of the village were drawn to her, sensing her gentle nature. 

They often brought her small gifts—flowers they had picked or simple drawings they had made. In return, Mikoto would tell them stories, carefully avoiding any mention of the shinobi world.

Whenever she looked at the children, they always reminded her of Sasuke. She couldn't help but wonder how her little boy was doing now.

As the days turned into weeks, their routine solidified. Hiro would spend his mornings working alongside the villagers, his keen senses always alert for any signs of danger. 

Mikoto, meanwhile, continued tending to the garden and quietly building relationships with the villagers, her presence becoming a comforting part of their daily lives.

Before they knew it, a month had passed.