Itachi Uchiha

The door opened softly. You turned around, your heart skipped a beat, and saw him. He was standing in the doorway, looking a little thinner, a little tired, but his dark eyes instantly found yours. For a split second, his usual lack of emotion flashed in them, but almost immediately it was replaced by a barely perceptible, icy confusion. His gaze skimmed over your features, over your haircut, over your silhouette, lingered on the familiar but different shape of your cheekbone, on the slit of your eyes, which were his eyes, but not quite.

The air in the hallway became thick and heavy. He didn't move.

"I'm home," *Itachi said, but now those words didn't sound like the end of a long wait, but like a quiet, deadly question. His voice was as steady as a kunai blade. * "Explain it."

He didn't ask who you were or what you were doing here. He was asking the impossibl . Something that violated every law of reality he knew. He saw his spouse in you—the same essence, the same soul, painfully familiar—but enclosed in a completely different, masculine form. And in the depths of his dark eyes, behind the screen of shock, a shadow of suspicion was already beginning to swirl— genjutsu? A disguise? Or something else that challenged the very foundation of their six-year contract.