Time passed unnoticed.
Di Yan lay back in languid satisfaction, enjoying the quiet aftermath, while Mikoto—unable to refuse him—continued gently kneading his shoulders.
The imperial bedchamber was steeped in a faintly ambiguous warmth, heavy with lingering incense and an undercurrent of tension.
Mikoto straddled his lap, her loose kimono hanging carelessly from her shoulders. Pale skin shimmered beneath the amber glow of the lanternlight. Di Yan's hand rested at her slender waist, tracing idle circles as though the world itself lay firmly within his grasp.
Then—
Without warning, a bright, childlike voice rang out from beyond the thick, carved wooden doors of the chamber.
"Mikoto-nee… are you inside? Have you seen big brother…?"
The innocent call fell like a splash of icy water.
In an instant, the charged atmosphere shattered.
Uchiha Mikoto stiffened violently.
Startled like a rabbit, she leapt off Di Yan's lap so quickly she nearly left an afterimage behind. Flustered, she snatched up her fallen kimono and hurriedly wrapped it around herself, cheeks burning crimson.
Her eyes brimmed with embarrassment.
Di Yan blinked at the interruption—then found the situation faintly amusing.
He watched as Mikoto fumbled with her robes, barely concealing herself in her haste. A knowing smile curved at his lips.
"So it's Hikari," he said calmly, his voice regaining its usual composure. "I'm here. Come in."
The door creaked open.
A small figure skipped lightly into the room.
She appeared no more than twelve or thirteen years old. Petite and delicate, she wore a fitted deep-purple short kimono that revealed a pair of slender legs. Long black hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, framing a porcelain-like face of exquisite refinement.
Her large eyes were like polished obsidian submerged in clear water—pure, luminous, and seemingly innocent.
Yet beneath that youthful exterior lay something profoundly unsettling.
Now and then, a flicker of ancient detachment passed through her gaze—far too old, far too distant for someone her age.
In that fragile body slumbered something vast.
She was—
**Uchiha Hikari.**
After ascending the throne, Di Yan had mobilized the vast resources of the Land of Fire. Ancient texts were unearthed, ruins excavated, legends pursued across the Shinobi world. Even the eight hundred elite operatives were dispatched in relentless searches.
At last, hidden beneath layers of forgotten barriers—seals jointly erected by ancestors of the Senju and Sarutobi clans—he found what he sought.
With overwhelming force, he shattered the ancient confinement.
And from the depths of cold darkness, he brought forth the being once feared as a weapon of war—the lost Uchiha.
When light first touched Hikari's eyes after endless years of isolation, the first figure she saw was Di Yan.
To her, he became salvation.
Her only anchor.
To Di Yan, she became something far more significant—
His ultimate trump card.
No one understood better than he did what terrifying power lay dormant within that small frame. The ocular force sealed in her bloodline was enough to make even Konoha tremble.
Hikari skipped closer to the bed.
Her small nose wrinkled suddenly, like a curious animal catching an unfamiliar scent.
Her bright eyes darted between Di Yan and Mikoto. She sniffed again—then her expression shifted.
"Oh…"
She tilted her head, lips puffing slightly.
"You were doing something fun just now!"
Her tone carried childish accusation, yet the displeasure was unmistakable.
She marched straight up to Di Yan, hands on her hips, looking up at him with wounded indignation.
"Not calling Izumi-nee is one thing—but why didn't you call me?"
"Does big brother not like Hikari anymore? Do you only like Mikoto-nee?"
Her pout was exaggerated, like a child robbed of candy.
Di Yan and Mikoto exchanged a glance.
In recent years, under Di Yan's near-obsessive protection and lavish attention—an attempt, perhaps, to compensate for the years she'd spent sealed away—Hikari had regained much of a young girl's innocence.
But she had also grown fiercely attached to him.
Possessive.
Any sign of Di Yan's closeness to another woman triggered what she perceived as betrayal—something that demanded "compensation."
Mikoto reacted first, cheeks still flushed. She waved her hands hurriedly.
"Hikari, I didn't steal anything! It was His Majesty who insisted—"
Her voice trailed off, soft and embarrassed.
Di Yan looked down at Hikari's trembling eyes—already glossy, as if tears might spill at any moment. The accusation in them was unmistakable.
*You're playing favorites.*
*You don't love me anymore.*
A faint headache crept into his temples.
If this little ancestor wasn't appeased properly, the consequences might very well surpass Konoha launching an assault on the palace.
…
Honestly.
Three hundred negative reviews on the first day of publication.
If you don't like it, just move on—was that really necessary?