1. WIND AND WATER
To say that Uzumaki Kushina and Uzumaki Kushiro were different was to say that Ashina-sama had a grumpy streak— it was nothing short of a vast understatement. From the murkiest depths of their little hearts to the tips of their hair, the twins had absolutely nothing in common except their mutual love for Oji-sama and turtle-shell hotpot.
Akifumi smoothed a gentle thumb over the faded picture, taken almost three years ago. Kushiro and Kushina were first brought to him a few days after the death of his eldest daughter. In the sepia tones of the photo-seal, they were nothing but small bundles tucked in his arms.
"OJI-SAMA!" The aged man was shoved out of his reverie by his granddaughter's boisterous summon, accompanied by loud footsteps. He hurriedly replaced the picture on the shelf. "SHIRO IS BEING A WIMP AGAIN, DATTEBANE!"
With a harsh slam, the sliding door ricocheted into its frame. Akifumi was momentarily blinded by the noon Sun and salty wind. When his eyes finally adjusted, his granddaughter was gripping her otouto by a fistful of his short-sleeved robe, her cheeks flushed the same light red shade as her hair. She glared at her grandfather expectantly, anger simmering in ocean eyes. Akifumi felt a painful tug somewhere in his chest— despite those brilliant blue eyes that definitely did not come from his family line, Kushina's uncanny resemblance to her late mother will never fail to startle him.
Suppressing a sigh, Akifumi stood, his white robes rustling over the cypress floor as he towered over his grandchildren. "Kushina-chan...what did I say about treating your brother like that? Release him."
"B-but—" The spirited girl sputtered, grip tightening. Kushiro deflated in her grasp.
"Kushina. We do not harm family." Akifumi pressed, an edge of authority sliding into his tone. "For your transgression, I will ask Kushiro to explain what happened before you."
Kushina obliged with a glare at her twin, who relaxed as the iron-hold on his navy-colored robe was released. Akifumi waited until his grandson finally made eye contact to speak.
"Now, Kushiro-kun. Will you please tell me why your sister is so angry?"
Whereas Kushina was all energy and movement, boisterous like the swirling waters of Uzushio, Kushiro was calm and aloof, chilled like the fall winds that heralded mild winters. For Kushina, Akifumi was firm— for Kushiro, Akifumi was patient. Akifumi had tamed both water and wind in his long seventy years. Raising a pair of twins was a breeze in comparison.
"I didn't feel like playing Capture the Kusa-nin with Kushina and some other children. They took that as an insult and taunted us. Kushina got angry and started a fistfight, so I pulled her away and told her that she was overreacting. She retaliated by insulting the children before taking me to you." Kushiro spoke softly and slowly, as if each word was unfamiliar and required deliberation. His hair, the color of sea foam under harsh sunlight, fell in unruly curls about his face, nearly obscuring a pair of deep-set, pitch-black eyes. If Akifumi didn't know any better, he would've thought Kushiro was his younger daughter's child.
"B-but Oji-sama! They called Shiro-kun and me bastards, dattenbane! And they made fun of Shiro-kun's hair! As the big sister, I can't let them say that..." By the time her brother finished, Kushina's anger had all but evaporated, leaving only tatters of bitter resentment. Outside, a flock of plump silver pelicans glided by, their large shadows speckling over the twins.
Akifumi's expression hardened as his voice softened. "Kushina-chan, please calm down. Tell me— when others treat you unkindly because of your heritage, what should you do?"
"Ignore them, grow strong, and then laugh at them when they respect your power." Kushina recited sullenly. Kushiro snorted.
Akifumi raised two stark white eyebrows. "...That is not what I taught you. Did Shiro-kun tell you that?"
"Yeah." Kushina mumbled, wringing her small hands as she muttered about 'the other bastard children', completely oblivious to the look Oji-san was giving her brother.
"Very well, then. You will ignore them, grow strong, and then laugh at them when they begin to respect your power. But don't forget; these children are your family."
Akifumi was suddenly acutely aware of how pitiful his grandchildren were— they spent most of their time with him instead of fishing, diving, and picking wild seaberries with the other unapprenticed children. The Uzumaki raised children as a collective. Akifumi would gladly feed, bathe, and teach other people's brats if Kushina and Kushiro managed to bring any home. So far, that has yet to happen. Judging by his granddaughter's temper, his grandson's awkward maturity, and their rather unkind reputation, Akifumi doesn't think they'll make friends anytime soon.
"Tell you what," Akifumi began, watching both of his grandchildren perk up at the phrase. "If you two mill some ink for me, I'll demonstrate how to link two storage seals and transport items between them. It is the basis of many systems on Uzushio."
"But ink-milling is boring, dattebane!" Kushina complained, though the quiver in her voice betrayed her anticipation.
"Come on, Kushina. This beats playing with them anyways. Oji-san never shows us his sealing, anyways." Kushiro yawned, hiding the grin tugging at his lips. Akifumi scoffed at his attempt to seem unperturbed— the little rascal was positively bouncing with excitement.
"Fine," The redhead huffed.
Moving in tandem, they rushed to the sealing cabinet. Akifumi watched in amusement as Kushina forced Kushiro down into a crouch, hopped onto his back, and rummaged around for the equipment. Kushiro looked somewhere between resignation and murder as Kushina took her time picking out shallow pans, chakra-stone shards, unrefined black ink, and empty clean glass vials.
"Let's go!" Kushina tittered cheerfully as she hopped off her otouto. Arms full of equipment, she rushed outside with another harsh slam of the door. Kushiro grumpily rolled up and ambled after her, picking up the items she had dropped.
Akifumi followed the duo outside, stepping onto the giant veranda that ran along the cliffside. He took a moment to relish in the glow of the beautiful summer day. Uzushio was not known as Paradise Island by its neighbors for nothing. Akifumi's quarters were located at the lowest floor of the Uzumaki's Mountain Complex, which overlooked the sparkling azure bay that bisected the Island of Uzushio. As its name suggests, the Uzumaki Mountain Complex had been sculpted from the inactive volcano by carpenters and clever Suiton users. Their handiwork transformed the rugged mountainside into an ever-changing thirty-floor complex of stone, marshwood, and bright paint. It was a beautiful sight to behold, floating above the bustling seaside town of Uzushiryo, home to nearly two thousand civilians, shinobi, and non-Uzumaki Sealsmen.
"Seaberry sake, Akifumi-sama?" A pair of rosy-cheeked elders leaning against the railing offered with wobbling hands.
"Oysters, Oji-san?" A grinning apprentice, tan skin slick with sweat, held out a palmful of the gleaming shells.
By the time he arrived at the sealing room, Akifumi's hands and heart were contently full. The wooden planks below curved around the cliff-face and away from the apartments, opening up to a large patio of flat stone.
"Oji-sama!" With Kushina's loud voice and Kushiro's stark white hair, Akifumi easily picked out his grandchildren amongst the crowd. This time of the day, the sealing room was bustling with retired elders trying to digest their midday meals by slow-milling and apprentices scrambling to perfect their technique.
Akifumi ambled over, casually eyeing their set-up. The chakra stones were wetted to a high gleam under noon Sun— good. Each pan only had a thin film of ink— good. Counter-clockwise swirling— good. Using tongs to hold the stones as they filtered spun ink— good. Pouring the ink over the flat side of the rock—
"Wrong."
Kushina faltered, the sudden hesitation in her movement sending ink splashing into Kushiro's hair. After a quick squabble and a jug of water as a peace offering, the siblings resumed the procedure, this time with the rock's sharp point meeting the stream of ink.
Akifumi nodded his approval. Kushina beamed, prompting a small smile from Kushiro.
At first, his teaching method had been incredibly frustrating. Slow-milling was a twenty step procedure. But the hard work sure paid off. The twin have only been milling for three months, but the quality of their ink has progressed beyond most first-year apprentices.
"Hello, Chichiue." Akifumi stilled. The hubbub of the sealing room receded in the wake of the Uzumaki Clan Head's sudden arrival.
Akifumi rose to his full height, unbent by age, turning to face his youngest. "Uzumaki-sama." He bowed deliberately.
Yumei was a striking woman, with a presence that silently demanded attention. Willowy and tall, she moved like a seaberry branch in gentle wind. Like every high-ranked Uzumaki on the Island, she wore tight black under-clothes under a simple white shift robe. However, her over vest was dark gold, emblazoned with a bright red whirlpool— the only one of its kind. Instead of the Uzumaki's hallmark red shade, the long braid over her shoulder was a silver-white hue. In contrast, her brown eyes were dark enough to pass as pitch black. She could pass as Kushiro's mother, and Akifumi knew it irritated her to no end.
For a few tense seconds, she regarded his bow with a lifted chin. "Please rise, Chichiue."
"What brings you here, honourable Uzumaki-sama?" Akifumi demurred, stepping closer to his grandchildren.
"To see my niece and nephew, of course. Their third birthday is tomorrow, correct? I'm here to pay my respects." Yumei glided past her father. "Hello, Kushina-chan and Kushiro-kun."
To their credit, the twins mimicked their grandfathers' stoic respect with deep bows of their own. Akifumi watched the exchange calmly, ignoring the undisguised curiosity around them.
Yumei reached into the front fold of her white robe. Two small flat parcels wrapped in fish-patterned paper emerged.
"For you, Kushina-chan. And for you, Kushiro-kun." Each twin rose respectfully at the sound of their name and accepted the gift with the slightest hesitations and lowest "thank you"s.
"Please enjoy them. Good afternoon, everyone." She bade farewell to the sealing room, walking calmly away.
That evening, the trio polished off the last of a large steamed sea bass and a mountain of rice in Akifumi's humble living room. The presents laid untouched on the shelf, a visible source of tension. Kushina was droning on and on about an imaginary scenario in which she was a princess-kunoichi and Kushiro was her grumpy younger brother-turned-mad-Sealsman. Kushiro only looked half-insulted as she described his dramatic betrayal as he descended into madness, and only rolled his eyes once when she "used a cool good-guy seal array to capture him, dattabane!". It was an almost daily exercise that Kushina went through, a sort of post-meal digestive aid that mirrored Akifumi's reading, and she would always nod off after she defeated her brother in each elaborate story.
Once Kushina's snores became audible and a small puddle of drool began to form near her mouth, Kushiro's expression sharpened. He brushed the white curls out of his eyes, combing his fingers through them as if trying to form a ponytail. When he turned towards Akifumi, the expression in his eyes seemed much, much older despite the vulnerability in his eyes.
"Ojii-chan, am I—" he began, voice much faster and surer than that of a three year old child, only to be gently cut off.
"You're doing fine as a younger brother, as I have assured you many times in the past. I cannot reprimand you for your inability to interact with the other children, just like I cannot reprimand Kushina for her unwavering loyalty to you. " Akifumi spoke, voice low. He quietly set down his novel. "Come, let us continue this conversation in the study."
With practiced movements, Kushiro slipped a cushion underneath Kushina's head and followed his grandfather into the adjoining room. It was a small study lined with scrolls and odd trinkets from Akifumi's bygone Combat Sealsman days. It was sparse aside from several well-loved cushions and a sealing mat.
"Any visions today?" Akifumi asked, never one to tiptoe around his grandson's predicament.
"…no." Kushiro took a bit to respond, the adult-like focus almost silly on his childish features. "Well, I don't think. But when the children were taunting Kushina, I remembered something. I think…I think some girls bullied me in elementary school when I was...well..."
Akifumi let him trail off. Elementary school, as he had come to learn, was where the children in Kushiro's previous world received an education. It seemed quite inefficient, having children sit still all day and learn from bound scrolls. Silence descended upon the pair as Kushiro stared intently at the well-worn wooden floors. Akifumi gave him time.
"I was a tomboy, like Kushina." Kushiro's voice trembled as he slowly lifted his eyes to meet Akifumi's steady gaze. "Ojii-san…it hurts so much to see her get bullied too. I…I want her to be happy, I want to be happy, I don't want everything to be like this because I—" a sharp inhale.
Akifumi took a deep breath for both of them. No matter how many times he has seen that potent brew of agony, self-loathing, and frustration on his grandchild's face, it will never fail to knock the breath out of him.
"I hate all of these memories." His grandson was crying now, face grotesquely contorted as he held back sobs despite the steady stream of tears already streaking down his cheeks. In the dim wash of moonlight and candlelight, Kushiro's pain was laid bare for all to see. "Oji-san, w-when I was born, why did she have to stay?"
Wordlessly, Akifumi opened his arms and leaned forward, enveloping the child in his arms when Kushiro scrambled desperately into his lap. The awkward air of maturity and aloofness that his grandson wore like a cloak to keep others at bay in the daylight dissipated, leaving behind nothing but a confused and hurt boy. Akifumi tightened his hold and started to rock when Kushiro finally let his sobs run free, muffled against Akifumi's chest.
As the night trickled along with the crash of the waves in the distance, Akifumi steadily rocked Kushiro until his sobs faded into gentle hiccups and before finally petering out into even breaths of deep dawn birds had already begun their songs by the time Kushiro had succumbed to sleep, but it was the least Akifumi could do. After all, even a withered man who had tamed wind and water, killed countless enemy-nin in the name of family and survival, and seen the rise and fall of dozens of clans cannot even began to comprehend the tragedy of conscious reincarnation.