Uchiha Haruki in One Piece

[~1600 Words]

~ A few days before the Uchiha Massacre.

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Location: Early afternoon, Kurenai's home

The door creaked open just after the noon bell.

Haruki stood at the threshold, holding a small bag in one hand, a faint smirk on his lips.

"So... still not tired of me?"

Kurenai raised an eyebrow, stepping aside to let him in.

"Not yet. Though that depends on what's in the bag."

He held it up teasingly.

"The makings of a very good lunch—Sukiyaki. And no, you don't get to just sit and watch me cook this time."

Her eyes lit up with amusement.

"Oh? Are we doing a co-op mission now?"

"Exactly," he said, stepping in and setting the ingredients down on the kitchen counter. "And if you mess up, I'll deduct points from your performance review."

Kurenai gave a mock gasp.

"How dare you. I was Jounin before you could properly tie your headband."

"Which makes you perfectly qualified to wash mushrooms and cut tofu," he quipped, rolling up his sleeves.

She laughed—a bright, genuine sound as she joined him at the counter. Their shoulders bumped lightly as they stood side-by-side in the small kitchen, hands moving in casual rhythm. The domesticity of it all felt oddly… peaceful.

"You actually know how to cook Sukiyaki?" she asked, glancing sideways.

Haruki smiled without looking up.

"Let's just say I learned out of survival. When you're living alone in enemy seas, good food becomes its own kind of morale."

Kurenai hummed thoughtfully.

"I suppose that's fair. I expected you to be the kind who survives on rice balls and stubbornness."

"Harsh," he said, feigning a wince. "But accurate."

He passed her a few slices of beef.

"Now layer these neatly—no tossing them like shuriken."

Kurenai's lips curled into a teasing smirk.

"Bossy much?"

"Just maintaining order. I'm an Uchiha, after all."

"Tch. There it is."

"What?" he asked, eyes glinting. "Intimidated by the clan pride?"

She gave him a sidelong glance.

"I've faced B-rank missions in the Rain with no backup. I think I can handle one flirty Uchiha in my kitchen."

Haruki chuckled, amused by her pushback.

"Fair. But don't get too confident—I can multitask. Cook and charm at the same time."

"You're lucky I'm hungry."

Their hands brushed occasionally as they worked, and each accidental touch lingered a little longer than necessary.

The kitchen filled with the savory aroma of simmering beef, soy, and mirin. Haruki handled the heat while Kurenai arranged the table with quiet grace.

"It smells amazing," she admitted, breathing it in as she set down two bowls.

"That's because I'm amazing."

"Modesty. A lost art in your clan?"

"I wouldn't know. I'm the lost Uchiha, remember?"

Kurenai paused—then smiled softly.

"I think you've been finding your place just fine."

Haruki met her eyes for a moment, that smile grounding him more than he expected.

"Maybe I just needed the right kitchen to start in."

She rolled her eyes but blushed slightly.

"Careful. That almost sounded romantic."

"Almost?"

"Almost," she repeated, sipping her tea as she sat. "But I'm giving you points for effort."

They sat down together at the low table, the hotpot between them gently bubbling. Kurenai picked up her chopsticks, took a bite—and visibly brightened.

"You're kidding me. This is actually good."

"You sound surprised."

"I am surprised. This is Jounin-level."

"I told you, cooking is part of my Seduction Jutsu."

"Oh please," she laughed. "You wouldn't last a minute in seduction missions. You'd smirk once and the enemy would stab you out of annoyance."

"But I'd die looking good."

They laughed again, and this time, something soft passed between them. Not just playful banter, but the warmth of something starting to take root—something deeper than flirtation, more comfortable than formalities.

They ate slowly, occasionally brushing knees under the table, never quite acknowledging it. When they were done, Kurenai stood to clear the bowls, but Haruki stopped her with a raised palm.

"You invited me, remember? I clean."

"Fair enough," she said. "But don't break anything. That teacup set is from my mother."

"You have my solemn oath."

As he washed the dishes, Kurenai leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching him work.

"Haruki," she said thoughtfully, "you ever think about staying in the village for a while longer?"

He glanced over his shoulder.

"Why?"

"You cook. You train. You banter reasonably well. I think you might actually be… tolerable company."

He smiled slowly.

"That the best compliment I'll get today?"

"Probably."

They shared a long look—gentle, knowing, and full of things unspoken. And in the quiet aftermath of laughter and miso and sukiyaki warmth, neither of them felt the need to rush anything.

For now, this was enough.

And it was good.

The sun was dipping low behind the rooftops of Konoha, painting the village in hues of amber and rose.

Cicadas buzzed in the distance, and the air held that warm silence between day and dusk.

Haruki stood at Kurenai's door, his hand on the handle, ready to leave. He turned back with a soft smile.

"Thanks for the meal," he said casually. "And the company. It made today feel… lighter."

Kurenai leaned against the doorframe, arms loosely crossed, a shadow of hesitation flickering across her otherwise composed face.

"Haruki," she said, her voice softer than before. "Wait."

He turned just in time for her to grab his wrist and pull him back inside. The door shut behind them with a quiet click. The air between them thickened.

Haruki blinked.

"Kurenai—?"

But she didn't give him time to speak further. In one swift, decisive moment, she reached up and kissed him.

Her lips were warm, tasting faintly of tea and mirin. The kiss wasn't tentative—it was conflicted, yes, but honest. Bold. Her hand clutched lightly at the front of his shirt as she pressed into him, her breath catching slightly against his mouth before she slowly pulled away.

She didn't meet his eyes at first. Her voice was laced with guilt, with honesty, with longing.

"I shouldn't have done that," she whispered, almost scolding herself. "You're younger with long time ahead of you, and I'm supposed to know better."

Haruki stood there for a heartbeat, stunned—not from the kiss itself, but from the raw emotion she had just poured into it. Then slowly, he chuckled. Not mockingly, but gently, his smirk teasing but warm.

"So... you like me."

Kurenai glared at him with a flush on her cheeks.

"Don't push your luck."

He grinned wider.

"I mean, if you wanted me to stay longer, all you had to do was—"

She put a finger to his lips, silencing him with narrowed eyes and a twitch of a smile.

"One kiss," she warned. "Then you get lost."

Haruki's smirk turned into something more dangerous. More serious. His dark eyes searched hers for permission—saw it there in her gaze, in the way her lips parted, in the pulse at her throat—and then he leaned in.

This time, he kissed her.

And gods, he kissed her like he meant it.

It was no longer playful. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against him. Kurenai gasped into his mouth, her hands instinctively sliding up his chest, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt.

He kissed her with the steady, commanding confidence of someone who wanted her to remember this moment for the rest of her life. Their lips moved slowly at first—then faster, more urgently. Their breaths intertwined, warm and shallow, as her back gently pressed against the wall behind them.

His fingers brushed her cheek, down to her neck, reverent but daring. He tasted the softness of her sighs, felt the way her body melted slightly into his with every second the kiss deepened.

One minute.

Two.

Three…

Time warped around them, the silence between kisses filled only with shared breath and the thud of two hearts learning each other's rhythm.

By the fourth minute, Kurenai had stopped pretending to resist—her lips sought his, matched his hunger, her body answering every teasing flicker of his mouth with soft, quiet need.

Finally, after what felt like five minutes suspended in a dream, Haruki slowed. Their mouths parted slowly, unwillingly, lips brushing a few more times—gentle now, like aftershocks.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, tender and grounding.

"Expect kisses like that every day," he whispered, his voice a warm promise in her ear.

Kurenai's breath hitched. She looked up at him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide but shimmering with something she hadn't shown anyone in years.

"You're trouble," she said under her breath.

"And yet... you opened the door."

Haruki stepped back at last, giving her one last teasing wink as he turned to go.

The door clicked shut softly behind him.

And then he grinned.

With a lightness in his steps, he walked down the corridor—then skipped once like a giddy genin who'd just passed the Chunin Exams. The feeling in his chest buzzed like chakra fire, his heart soaring.

By the time he reached his home, the sun had set.

But Haruki was definitely glowing.

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