As Kushina stepped inside, she let out a quiet sigh and dropped into her usual seat. Her movements were slower than usual, like she was carrying a weight she couldn't put down. Souta, watching from behind the counter, noted the tired lines on her face.
Without a word, he turned to prepare her tea, his hands moving on instinct. The system, as usual, remained silent.
'Useless thing.' Souta thought. It always picked the worst times to go quiet.
He set the cup in front of her. Kushina barely acknowledged it at first, her fingers tracing the rim absentmindedly.
A long silence stretched between them.
Then, finally, she spoke, her voice quieter than usual.
"Do you ever feel like… no matter what you do, it's never enough?"
Souta blinked. That wasn't what he expected.
He sat down across from her, choosing his words carefully. "Yeah. Like you're carrying everything alone, and no one even notices."
Her gaze flickered toward him, surprised, then softened. She exhaled and leaned back. "Exactly."
Souta rested his arms on the table, watching her carefully. "You know, it's okay to take a break. Even the strongest people need to breathe sometimes."
She let out a short, bitter laugh. "Easier said than done."
"Maybe. But pretending everything's fine when it's not... doesn't fix anything either."
For a moment, she didn't respond. Then, to his surprise, she smiled—a small, tired one, but real. "You're not like most people, are you?"
He shrugged. "I just say things how they are."
She picked up her cup, taking a slow sip. "This is good."
"Thanks. I have a reputation to maintain."
For a while, neither of them spoke. The quiet wasn't awkward—it was comfortable. The tension in Kushina's shoulders eased little by little.
Eventually, she set the cup down and looked at him again, her expression lighter now. "You're easy to talk to. I don't usually…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "Never mind."
Souta tilted his head but didn't push. "I'm glad I could help, even if it's just with tea."
She stood up, stretching slightly. "Thanks… for listening."
"Anytime."
Kushina made her way toward the door, but before she left, she turned back.
"What's your name?"
"Souta. Souta Kiryuu."
She nodded, as if committing it to memory. "Well, Souta… I'll remember that."
A Month Later
By now, it was routine.
Every night, just before closing, she came back.
Sometimes she looked exhausted, other times frustrated, but she always came.
Souta didn't ask why. He didn't need to.
Tonight was no different. The teahouse was empty except for the glow of lanterns flickering against the wooden walls.
The door creaked open, and she stepped inside, red hair tied back loosely. She looked even more drained than usual. Without a word, she slumped into her usual seat, resting her chin on her hand.
Souta, already expecting her, poured the tea before she could ask.
Kushina let out a slow breath, wrapping her hands around the warm cup.
"You don't ask many questions, do you?"
He smirked slightly. "People usually say everything they need to, even without being asked."
She chuckled softly, but there wasn't much humor in it. "Hah… clever answer."
Souta leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Rough day?"
She swirled the tea in her cup, staring into it. "Yeah… You could say that."
Silence.
Then, she spoke again, voice quieter.
"Some days, I feel like I only exist for others. Like I have to be the strong, reliable Kushina. The one everyone expects me to be."
Souta watched her carefully. She wasn't looking at him anymore.
"What about what you want?"
She hesitated. Her fingers tightened slightly around the cup.
"That doesn't really matter, does it?" A short, tired laugh. "I made my choices."
Souta didn't reply right away. He let her words settle between them.
Then, finally, he said, "Choices don't mean much if you're forcing yourself to live with something you never really wanted."
Her head snapped up slightly. For a brief moment, something flashed in her eyes.
"That's a dangerous thing to say."
He met her gaze evenly. "Is it? Or is it just something you don't let yourself think about?"
A pause.
For a second, he thought she might get angry. But instead, she sighed, rubbing her temple.
"You're too sharp for your own good, you know that?"
Souta smirked. "I hear that a lot."
She scoffed, but there was no irritation in her tone. She lifted the cup to her lips, taking a slow sip. This time, she drank it more thoughtfully.
"You make it sound so simple. But life doesn't work that way."
"No," Souta agreed. "But happiness isn't as complicated as people make it out to be either."
Kushina didn't answer right away. Her fingers drummed against the table. She wasn't looking at him anymore, but…
He could tell his words had landed.
A small seed, planted.
She finally spoke again, her voice quieter. "You talk like someone who's seen a lot."
Souta smirked. "Maybe I have. Or maybe I just understand what it's like to feel trapped."
Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but then she shook her head. "You're a strange one, Souta Kiryuu."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
For the first time that night, she let out a small, genuine laugh. "You would."
As Kushina's soft laugh faded into the dimly lit teahouse, a chime echoed in Souta's mind.
[Ding! New System Function Unlocked: Adaptive Conversational Guidance]
Souta stiffened slightly. It had been a while since the system reacted to anything.
A transparent blue screen appeared at the corner of his vision:
[Current Situation: Kushina Uzumaki – Emotional Vulnerability Detected]
[Optimal Response Choices Calculated. Choose Wisely.]
Three options flickered in front of him:
"You should laugh more. It suits you." (Gentle approach – Builds comfort and familiarity.)
"You can drop the strong act around me, you know." (Intimate approach – Strengthens emotional dependency.)
"You're not used to someone challenging you, are you?" (Playful approach – Subtly provokes interest and attraction.)
Souta's fingers twitched.
"So the system finally decides to help, huh?"
Kushina was still watching him, waiting for his response.
He made his choice.