Walking quite a bit today, she definitely needed a good, thorough bath.
Furin gave herself a mental pep talk, trying her best to brush aside a subtle sense of guilt.
Patting her cheeks, Furin muttered to herself, "I just like being clean, that's all! I swear I don't have any weird motives!"
With a change of clothes in hand, she pushed open the bathroom door. A wave of heat rushed out, and the hazy steam drifted like a thin veil, easing Furin's nervousness just a little bit.
Looking in the mirror, Furin saw that her fair face was slightly flushed from the heat.
Instinctively reaching out to touch it, her cheek felt as soft as a peeled egg, prompting a vain little smile she couldn't help but flash. "I really never get tired of looking at this face."
After admiring herself in the mirror for a moment and nodding with satisfaction, her gaze drifted downward to take in her delicate, shapely young girl's figure.
Her cheeks flushed pink once more, and Furin quickly averted her gaze, though that strange, heart-pounding sensation refused to fade away.
"Ugh, this just feels kind of weird," she muttered, slowly beginning to strip off her outer clothes.
Her flawless, snow-white skin emitted a soft glow under the lights, resembling fine porcelain. Halfway through undressing, she couldn't help taking a deep breath, fighting hard to calm her increasingly chaotic thoughts.
"Stay calm! Stay calm! This is just my body, what is there to be shy about?"
Furin patted her cheeks and silently began chanting a calming incantation: "Ancient ice, all things remain still; quiet the heart and spirit, keep the mind solely focused..."
Even so, that warm, restless feeling clung to her like a shadow. She hurried to strip off the rest of her clothes and slipped quickly into the bathroom.
As the warm water flowed over her skin, the lingering shame and discomfort slowly receded.
She reached out to gently stroke her own body. The warm touch relaxed her nerves a little, yet it still carried an indescribable awkwardness.
Suddenly, she let out a soft, low hum—a sound so light and muffled it was as if she had accidentally leaked a secret from deep within her heart.
"This body... isn't it a bit too sensitive?" Furin's face grew even redder, the tips of her ears turning as bright as boiled shrimp. Muttering to herself, she quickly turned on the bathtub faucet, hoping to mask her embarrassment with a soak.
The tub slowly filled with hot water, and the warm steam turned the entire bathroom into a sauna.
Furin slowly slid into the water, and only when the warmth completely enveloped her body did she finally relax entirely.
Furin let out a soft puff of warm air, her gaze growing hazy as some "unspeakable" thoughts inexplicably popped into her head.
"No wonder the protagonists in body-swap stories never switch back once they change..." Furin suddenly figured something out and bit her lip. "So that's how it is."
At this thought, a fresh wave of heat rushed to her face, and she quickly shook her head to toss out all those "unhealthy" notions.
"Lewd thoughts, absolutely not! Furin, you have to respect and cherish yourself, you can't fall for this!"
She quickly submerged her body into the steaming tub. The warm water embraced her like a mother's arms, driving away the last traces of shame and tension.
Furin closed her eyes and let out a long sigh, melting into the water completely. She slowly slid further in, leaving only the top of her head floating on the surface as she blew little bubbles, looking just like a content little fish.
"This feels... simply amazing..."
Furin murmured softly, her voice laced with a hint of laziness.
The bathroom was quiet and warm, filled only with the gentle lapping of water and the occasional splash.
Furin's thoughts drifted into a blank void, all those complicated emotions washed away by the hot water.
Completely immersed in this moment of relaxation, Furin even began to wonder if she had perhaps worked herself too hard in her past life, which was why she craved such fleeting moments of comfort so intensely in this one.
"Furin, don't stay in the bath too long, okay?" Mikoto's voice came through the door, gentle yet carrying a touch of reminder.
Furin, who had been completely spacing out in the tub, gave a start. It took her a few seconds to react, and she replied in a weak voice, "Okay—I'll be right out."
Reluctantly standing up from the soothing water, Furin slowly dried herself off, slipped into a loose bathrobe, and shuffled out of the bathroom with a head of dripping, messy hair, looking utterly wilted like a steamed bun just out of the steamer.
In the living room, Mikoto sat upright on the sofa with a book in hand, as if waiting for her. Seeing Furin walk out, Mikoto set the book aside and beckoned to her. "Little Furin, come here."
"Mom, I'm done." Furin walked obediently over to Mikoto's side, still wondering if she had done something wrong to make Mikoto wait up for her.
Mikoto looked at her endearingly clueless younger daughter with a bright smile, pulled her gently into her arms, and began drying her damp hair with a towel.
Furin felt a bit uneasy and tried to pull away, but Mikoto pressed down on her shoulders and said softly, "Stop squirming, leaving your hair wet will give you a cold."
Feeling Mikoto's gentle technique, Furin gave up struggling and comfortably surrendered to her mother's care—until Mikoto suddenly asked, "Little Furin, you didn't forget the promise you made to Mom, did you?"
"What promise?" Furin froze, her head full of question marks, and tentatively looked up. "What did I promise?"
Seeing this, a mischievous glint flashed in Mikoto's eyes. She couldn't resist reaching out to pinch Furin's soft cheeks, her tone carrying a hint of mock grievance.
"Honestly, you forgot already? We clearly agreed you'd sleep with Mom tonight."
"Huh?" Furin was dumbfounded. She instinctively shrank back a little and stammered, "Mom, you... you've got to be kidding, right?"
"Of course not." Mikoto looked at Furin with complete earnestness, as if the matter was far too important to dispute.
Furin's face instantly turned as red as a beet, and she nervously tugged at her bathrobe. "G-Grown daughters should keep their distance from their mothers! Mom, show some restraint!"
"Who says? I've never heard of such a rule." Mikoto responded with a beaming smile, grabbed Furin's flailing little hand, and scooped her up effortlessly.
"M-Mom! Put me down!" Furin was so embarrassed her voice cracked, and she buried her small face in Mikoto's chest like a startled cat with puffed-up fur.
"There, there, stop squirming." Mikoto soothed her softly, carrying Furin straight toward the bedroom.
This entire scene was witnessed by Fugaku, who was drinking tea on the sofa. He set down his teacup, let his gaze linger on his wife and daughter for a moment, and finally couldn't help speaking up. "What about me?"
Mikoto stopped in her tracks, glanced back, and said coolly, "You? Go sleep on the couch."
Fugaku froze, then snapped back to reality, a look of helpless resignation washing over his face. He opened his mouth to argue, but seeing the unquestionable look in Mikoto's eyes, he could only let out a silent sigh. "Sigh..."
Watching his wife carry their daughter away, Fugaku leaned back against the sofa and fell into deep thought.
His mood was quite complicated: a gentle and virtuous wife, a cute and filial daughter—this ought to have been a double blessing, yet for some reason he felt a faint sense of loss.
After a moment, as if struck by a sudden thought, he turned to Sasuke. "Hey brat, you're sleeping with me tonight."
Sasuke, who was reading a book nearby, looked up and blinked. "Huh?"
"Huh? What? Got a problem bunking with your old man?!" Fugaku's tone carried a hint of stern authority.
Sasuke was at a loss, and he furtively glanced at Itachi beside him, trying to signal for help.
However, Itachi only offered a helpless smile, reached out, and flicked Sasuke gently on the forehead. "Sorry, Sasuke, Dad belongs to you tonight."
"Damn it! Brother, you don't love me anymore!" Sasuke cried out in total despair, his eyes brimming with anguish.
Pouting, he couldn't help picturing the adorable scene of Furin acting spoiled earlier at noon, and silently added Itachi to his mental blacklist.
"If Furin knew about this, she'd definitely back me up! Big brother's performance today gets a terrible rating!"
——————
Inside the bedroom, the dim, warm light spilled over the soft bedding, filling the air with a cozy ambiance. Furin curled up tightly beneath the small quilt, huddled into a ball with only her flushed little face exposed.
Every so often, she would steal a glance at Mikoto beside her, then quickly snap her gaze away, acting just like a kitten caught red-handed doing something bad.
Mikoto sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her daughter bundled up into a tiny ball, feeling both a pang of heartache and amusement.
She gently pulled back the tightly wrapped blanket, drew Furin into her arms, and gently stroked her head. "Little Furin, why are you all curled up like that? Are you cold?"
As Mikoto embraced her, Furin's heart skipped a beat. Her mother carried a pleasant, clean fragrance, and the warm embrace made her relax against her will, slowing even her breath.
Furin's nose twitched slightly as she absorbed that unique peace and tranquility that belonged only to mothers, and a complex wave of emotion welled up in her chest.
Furin raised her head, gazing into Mikoto's deeply affectionate face. Deep down she felt a pang of shame, yet mixed with a sliver of secret delight.
"Mom really is so good to me..." Furin murmured softly to herself, and gradually, that slight awkwardness and shyness melted away without a trace.
"Actually, I shouldn't always push Mom away when she wants to be close," Furin thought to herself silently. "In her eyes, I'm still just a child. If I keep rejecting her care, how hurt would she be?"
Thinking of this, Furin felt a sudden wave of regret, and even an impulse to act spoiled stirred from the bottom of her heart.
She secretly took a breath, her little face as red as a ripe apple, and mustered up her courage to call out in a soft, sweet voice, "Mom."
"Hmm?" Mikoto lowered her head slightly, looking at the little daughter in her arms with ever-tenders eyes.
Furin bit her lip, her voice as quiet as a mosquito's. "Can you... hold me a little tighter?"
The moment the words left her mouth, her face flushed completely red. Not daring to meet Mikoto's eyes, she buried her head deeper into her chest, as if trying to hide herself away.
Mikoto was stunned for a second, then couldn't help laughing, her eyes brimming with doting affection. She reached out to flick the tip of Furin's nose, asking half-playfully, "What, not feeling shy anymore?"
"Mmm..." Furin mumbled a response, yet unconsciously pressed closer against Mikoto's chest, as if seeking an extra measure of security.
Her little hands grasped the hem of Mikoto's clothes, her voice low yet overflowing with reliance. "When Mom holds me... it feels so nice."
Mikoto's heart practically melted at these sweet, spoiled words. She didn't say anything more, wrapping both arms tightly around Furin and gently patting her back as she whispered, "My little Furin will always be Mom's precious baby."
Furin nuzzled against Mikoto's chest, her head brushing lightly past her shoulder, looking precisely like a pampered little kitten.
Closing her eyes, she felt her mother's warm embrace and the rhythm of her heartbeat, feeling more relaxed than ever before.
"Mom..." she murmured softly, then added, "Good night."
"Good night, Furin." Mikoto lowered her head and pressed a gentle kiss to Furin's forehead.
As the night deepened, only the sound of steady breathing and the warm companionship of mother and daughter remained in the room. Outside the window, the moonlight fell softly, as if standing guard in quiet devotion over the moment.