Land of Snow.
Mikoto Uchiha, having just finished her duties, returned to her room and closed the door with a weary sigh.
Even though some time had passed, she still couldn't quite adapt to this new life.
Her long black hair fell down her back, her eyes carrying the quiet melancholy of a mother who had lost too much. She moved toward her bed, her steps unsteady, swaying slightly as she lowered herself onto the mattress.
But the calm didn't last.
Her nerves tensed as the space in front of her rippled, distorting the air. A masked figure emerged from the void, a single Sharingan eye glowing ominously from the opening.
Mikoto's eyes widened in shock—then realization struck her. She immediately rose from the bed, folding her arms respectfully before her stomach and bowing slightly.
"My lord…?" she asked, her voice soft but laced with nervousness.
Here, in the Land of Snow, with Chihori's words still echoing in her ears, she knew this man could only be him.
The one her captor and savior alike had spoken of.
Her body trembled slightly. She was visibly nervous.
"How is life treating you here?" Obito asked, his voice calm as he stepped forward.
He closed the gap without ceremony. One hand found her waist and pulled, drawing Mikoto to the edge of the bed. She froze, muscles going rigid under his grip.
"You've suffered much, haven't you? But don't mistake your survival for coincidence. I chose to spare you. And I expect you to prove that choice wasn't wasted."
His words lodged in her throat, swallowing everything she'd wanted to say. Mikoto clenched the fabric at her chest until her knuckles blanched. Her eyes trembled with the effort to keep steady.
"W-will you… let them go?" she managed at last, voice small. "They've done nothing like the rest of the clan… they're innocent."
She had heard the stories, how "Madara" hated the Uchiha and that poison had been planted in her mind. That thought made her plea urgent and raw.
Obito's mouth curved into a faint smile behind the mask, though his face gave nothing away.
"You have one thing wrong," he said softly. "How could I hate my sons?"
His hand slid lower... fingers found the soft curve of her hip and then her butt, squeezing roughly. The pressure dug in, and Mikoto gasped. She tried to rise, to wrench away—but his grip at her waist tightened like iron.
"Mikoto," he murmured, voice deceptively gentle, "this world has never been kind. If something is given to you, you must not take it for granted. You must repay it. Otherwise that kindness becomes a blade and it will take your life, or hurt those closest to you."
The last words landed like a blow. Mikoto's motion stilled, the air in the room thick and cold.
Her protest died on her lips, for a moment she simply stared, chest heaving, the raw conflict of mother and prisoner written across her face.
Obito's voice lowered as he delivered the final push.
"Mikoto… you have already died. The life you once had is gone. What stands before me now is nothing but a shield, one that can protect your children's lives."
Mikoto's breath caught in her chest at those words.
"The only thing that remains of you is the role of a mother. That is your last responsibility. Nothing more, nothing less."
He lifted her chin with gloved fingers, forcing her dark eyes to meet the endless crimson of his Sharingan. His masked face leaned close, the pressure of his presence overwhelming.
"You have lived with love, with duty, with loyalty… and you carried them all with dignity. No one would ever blame you for laying that burden down. Because everything you were...wife, daughter, kunoichi—has already been buried with your clan."
His voice softened, almost coaxing.
"But a mother… a mother does not need pride, or vengeance, or even a name. A mother only needs to endure. To survive long enough to become the shield that lets her children walk forward. Even if the world spits on you, even if your heart breaks you will endure. Because their lives are now carved into yours."
Obito's hand lingered at her chin, holding her gaze steady.
"Let go of everything else, Mikoto. You no longer need to carry the weight of the Uchiha. You only need to carry your sons. That is not weakness, it is strength. The purest strength this world knows."
The Shield of a Mother isn't just a phrase… Gaara's mother proved it herself. Even after death, she still stood between her child and the world, protecting him with the last of her love.
That is the truest proof that a mother's strength never dies, only changes form.
Mikoto's lips trembled as she stared into the spinning red eye before her.
Already dead…
The words sank deep into her chest. A part of her knew it was true. Her clan was gone. Her husband was gone. Even her home, the streets she once walked every day...was nothing more than ash in memory. What remained of that woman, Mikoto Uchiha, had indeed died on the night of the massacre.
But her children, Itachi and Sasuke, still lived.
Her hands, which had been clenched so tightly, loosened. A sob built in her throat, but she forced it down.
Obito's words were cruel, but cruel in a way that resonated. He wasn't asking her to forget everything...he was giving her a reason to go on, a way to still matter.
A shield… if that is what I must become, then so be it.
Her tears spilled silently, sliding down her cheeks, but this time she didn't hide them. She drew in a long, trembling breath and nodded faintly.
"You're right… my pride, my past, none of it matters anymore. If what remains of me can keep them alive… then that's enough."
Obito watched her, the faintest smile curving beneath his mask.
"Good. You understand. From now on, every breath you take, every step you walk, is not for yourself. It is for them. That is the only truth you need to carry."
Of course, I know this much isn't enough, Obito thought inwardly.
Mikoto's cooperation wasn't born from acceptance alone. It rested on three pillars.
First, his overwhelming strength...something she could not hope to defy.
Second, her children...her single remaining purpose.
And third, the passivity etched into her bones from a lifetime inside the Uchiha clan, where she had learned to endure quietly rather than resist.
You couldn't expect a woman like Mikoto to suddenly become a Kushina or a Tsunade—fierce, headstrong, unyielding. Her nature was closer to Hinata's: gentle, patient, and self-sacrificing.
Yes, his words had landed deeply, but Obito knew there were still conditions that could breach her calm.
Because in this world, no one was without a weakness.
And for any parent, no matter how strong or weak… a child was always the softest spot. The one place where even the proudest shinobi would bow their head and submit.
Now the next step should be, Obito said to himself inwardly.
He closed the distance even more and pressed his lips against hers, kissing her hard and sudden. His hand slid behind her head, clutching her hair tightly as he forced the kiss deeper.
He sucked and bit her lips, pulling her tongue into his mouth and devouring it in a hot, merciless kiss.
Chu… mwah.
Mikoto gasped into his mouth, her body instinctively resisting. But she quickly realized she could do nothing...she could only let him consume her, helpless as his lips, tongue, and breath overwhelmed her own.
She had already known, from his words and actions, that she couldn't save herself from being defiled. But when it finally happened, the fear and disgust still shook her heart.
Her breath came ragged and short, no strength left to push him away as his hands roamed over her body. One slid down to her ass, squeezing firmly, while the other rose to her breasts, kneading roughly.
Her mind reeled. She didn't understand why the legendary Madara Uchiha—this figure of myth and terror would lower himself to toy with a widow. But she had no time to ask. No courage to speak.
She was completely at his mercy.
I-I'm sorry, Fugaku… I hope you understand. This is all for Sasuke.
Tears streamed down Mikoto's cheeks as guilt twisted in her chest, her husband's face burning in her mind as her lips remained trapped in Obito's.
PS: Has Obito's talk no Justu leveled up?
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