Pervert! Pervert! Pervert! Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!
He always acted so aloof and ascetic in front of everyone, yet he… ugh, shameless!
The five-hundred-and-fifteen-year-old Uchiha ancestor buried herself under the blankets in her room, yanking the covers over her head. Her face burned with a mixture of shame and fury. She pressed both hands to her cheeks, desperately trying to erase the memory of what had just happened.
But the harder she tried to push it away, the more vivid that cursed scene became.
Especially because that damned white-haired man wouldn't keep his hands to himself!
Ughhh!
A pitiful whine escaped her as she curled tighter beneath the sheets.
Yet… even as she cursed him, her fingertips unconsciously brushed her own lips.
…Damn it all!
What the hell am I thinking?!
Just as the Uchiha ancestor was shrinking into her shell like a turtle, three soft knocks sounded at the door.
Her heart lurched violently.
Don't tell me… he's not satisfied yet?
Don't tell me… don't tell me this pervert wants to take things even further?!
This is too much!
I only teased him a few times, and he—!
I'll fight him to the death if he tries anything else!!
The young woman shot upright in bed, steeling herself to face the jerk who had just stolen her very first kiss.
But the moment she swung her legs over the edge, they turned to jelly and she crashed straight to the floor.
"Are you okay?"
Hearing the thud, Kakashi pushed the door open without hesitation and found her sprawled on the hardwood.
"I-it's none of your business!"
At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to dig a hole and bury herself in it.
So humiliating!
Kakashi couldn't help the faint smile tugging at his lips as he looked at the stubbornly defiant girl. He stepped forward and carefully helped her up.
"Pervert, what else do you want?" she snarled, baring her teeth like she intended to sink them into his throat the second he got close.
"It's time for dinner," he answered calmly.
…Huh?
He did something that outrageous to me, and his biggest concern is food?
She glared at him, thoroughly annoyed.
Kakashi had just steadied her on her feet when he let go of her hand. Instantly, her legs buckled again and she pitched forward—straight into his chest.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Kakashi instinctively caught her, his voice laced with concern.
Her forehead rested against his chest; her cheeks flamed scarlet, rendering her momentarily speechless.
The first reason her legs had given out was the shock of her very first kiss from a man. The second…
Kakashi supported her weight and noticed a faint smear of red on the hem of her skirt. Frowning slightly, he crouched down. Ignoring her flustered protests, he gently lifted the fabric just enough to expose her smooth, pale calves—and then the ugly scrape across her swollen knees.
"…You hurt your knee?"
Kakashi stared speechlessly at the raw, inflamed skin.
That was just how this world worked.
Even a supreme powerhouse like her possessed a body as fragile as any civilian's. A single well-placed kunai or a drop of poison could end her life in an instant.
It wasn't just her—nearly every shinobi, Kakashi included, was the same. With the exception of freaks like Senju Hashirama, Tsunade, or those Uzumaki who'd awakened monstrous regenerative abilities, most ninja were terrifyingly squishy.
That was exactly why Obito's Kamui was so feared. While everyone else would die from a single fatal blow, Obito could phase through attacks, turning apparent suicide trades into guaranteed kills by exploiting the exact moment his enemy committed.
The first time you fought Uchiha Obito, ninety percent of the shinobi world would die to that "first-sight kill." The remaining ten percent would still end up maimed.
"What are you staring at…?" she mumbled, her voice muffled against his chest.
"Nothing. There's medicine in the living room. Come on, I'll treat it for you."
Kakashi shook his head, carefully lowering her skirt again before helping her shuffle toward the living room.
"…"
She kept her head down, secretly studying the man supporting her. Once she was sure he harbored no further indecent intentions, the tension in her expression eased a fraction.
With Kakashi's help, she sank onto the sofa. Her dark eyes tracked him as he rummaged through cabinets for the first-aid kit.
It seemed… she'd never had a choice from the very beginning.
Her thoughts drifted back three years—to the day she finally broke free from a seal that had imprisoned her for five centuries.
Sunlight had pierced the surface of the pond, illuminating the silver-haired youth reaching toward her.
After five hundred years of sleep, the first thing she saw upon waking was him.
It had taken her two and a half years of living under the same roof to realize that the Kakashi of that day had actually intended to seal her away again.
So annoying…
"Don't move."
Kakashi had found the salve. He knelt in front of her and, with the same careful gentleness, lifted her skirt once more.
She stared down at the man currently rolling her skirt up to her knees, face perfectly composed—yet her crystal-clear ears had long since betrayed her, burning bright red.
The moment his ointment-smeared fingers brushed her wound, a strange, fluttering sensation bloomed in her chest.
The sharp sting of the scrape, the cool slickness of the medicine, and the faint calluses on Kakashi's fingertips—earned from decades of gripping a blade.
…Is he actually… worried about me?
She had always assumed her new life would be simple and monotonous: wake up, watch the sunflowers outside the window bloom and wither season after season, then live out one quiet, ordinary day after another.
Yet here she was, gazing at the man meticulously tending her injury.
She herself didn't realize just how soft her eyes had become.
Kakashi's fingers paused mid-motion. He glanced up at her, a trace of worry in his voice. "Did that hurt?"
"N-no…" She whipped her head to the side, avoiding his gaze.
It wasn't surprising he'd noticed—ever since he started applying the medicine, the system prompt in his mind had been spamming "+1, +1, +1" nonstop.
Seeing her reaction, Kakashi said nothing more. Only a quiet tenderness surfaced in his dark eyes.
He wasn't dense. He wasn't heartless.
Ever since arriving in this world, his golden finger had always left him slightly detached—like he was merely a visitor here. He faced everything and everyone with cool rationality; right or wrong didn't matter. As long as he believed it was right, that was enough.
Only around people like Guy or Naruto did that sense of distance ever lessen.
But now, as his hand rested lightly on her swollen knee…
For the first time, Kakashi felt that this world was undeniably real.
And for the first time, he realized he might have fallen for this Uchiha ancestor—who was technically centuries older than both his lifetimes combined.
"H-how much longer are you planning to keep touching me…?"
Her embarrassed voice finally broke the silence. To her, Kakashi was starting to look suspiciously like a pervert who couldn't control his hands.
Not only had he been staring at her knee this whole time, his fingers had begun wandering—brushing higher, grazing the sensitive skin of her thigh…
"Ah, sorry." Kakashi blinked back to reality, withdrawing his hand as if he'd been burned. "Got a little carried away."
Uchiha Ancestor: ???
You call that a little?!
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