AN: Chapter title references a potential wording for a warning to future societies to not dig up nuclear waste sites. Cheery.
Sabo
The sun was soft and golden above the realm of the Celestial Dragons, spilling slowly over the white marble of Mariejois. The clouds peeled back, revealing the spires of Pangaea Castle looming above the manors of the most powerful people in the world, grand and beautiful in the ethereal light. Manicured gardens spiraled outward from the main structure, coiling around the city like a sleeping guardian serpent, spreading tentacles outward and creating more green spaces, each more immaculate than the last. Not a blade of grass out of place. It nearly glowed in the late afternoon light.
The World Government's crown jewel was perfect, truly a palace of the gods.
And Sabo hated it.
Bubbling below the surface of that perfection was a festering pit of misery. Everything the Celestial Dragons owned or loved was built on the backs of their slaves.
"Are we there yet?"
"No," said Koala, from Sabo's left and within a shallower part of the shadow cast by a flying buttress.
Everything the Celestial Dragons did was dramatic, right down to the architecture and the shadows cast by them, none daring to overshadow the other. That would be in bad taste and start a blood feud over blocking a jewel-toned stained glass window. Scandalous. As such, the building they were on now was a glorious mishmash of differing styles that had clearly been changed mid-build on several occasions, mirroring the one next to it as if it had undergone some sort of architectural dick-measuring contest while forcibly attempting not to cross over property lines. It was dubious at best to guess at who won.
"And now?"
"Not yet," Koala said, because while she didn't have patience, she did have the ability to give patently bored responses basically forever.
"The Great Shukaku is so bored." When Sabo turned to look, thumb-sized sand paws were creeping out of the sides of her backpack. Then a pair of yellow eyes poked out from the main pocket and that same squeaky voice grumbled, "Make people move faster."
"I thought you'd be able to feel it once everyone was in place," said Sabo, handing his binoculars to another Revolutionary who held out a hand.
"What does that have to do with anything? The Great Shukaku wants blood!"
Koala zipped her backpack shut again. It was probably the sixth time that Shukaku had started complaining in the last ten minutes, so they were all fairly used to the interruption. It wasn't great for anyone's blood pressure, but they were managing.
"The Great Shukaku will not be silenced!" the bag complained, wriggling in discontent.
"Clearly," Koala said under her breath.
Sabo sighed, equally quiet. Leaving the transponder snails out of this field operation had been a risk, but there weren't enough white snails to keep their communications secure. After hearing about what the Straw Hat Pirates had managed with a few tiny copies of Isobu at Impel Down, several discussions ensued between Ivankov, Sabo, and Dragon about trying that method themselves. With Isobu unavailable, Gaara volunteered Shukaku as a possible replacement communication method, apparently easily convincing the sand tanuki by talking about battles that he wouldn't otherwise have.
It quickly became clear that Tailed Beasts were not interchangeable.
Thus…
"This Shukaku also wonders what is taking so long," Sabo's hat grumbled, before tiny paws came out to rest on his brow at the same time that he felt a sandy tail sway by the nape of his neck.
There was so much sand. It was like they'd recruited Crocodile. Only smaller, and more willing to stick around for the express purpose of annoying people and getting itchy grains all up in their clothes and hair.
At least Chōmei volunteered his services, providing the much needed air superiority they otherwise wouldn't have had.
"If I sneeze," Sabo told him when a few grains tickled his nose, "you and the hat are going fifty feet straight down into a sewer, and I like my hat."
"This Shukaku also likes the hat." The hat settled back against the top of Sabo's head, and the little tanuki retreated with more wordless grumbling. The next thing Sabo understood was, "Chōmei doesn't have to put up with this."
Sabo wished he'd known the Tailed Beasts personalities and capabilities better before he agreed to lead this mission. He didn't say that aloud, because being in charge meant keeping doubt from creeping into everyone's heads. Especially when they were doing something this important.
But as they say, "the most fertile source of insight is hindsight."
"Oh," said Koala's backpack. Sabo looked down this time and spotted the bag sitting on his boot, having sprouted the signature sandy tail and legs and wiggled along the roof tiles until it hit his ankle. "The Great Shukaku has met unmitigated success!"
Koala knelt down beside the little monster and picked him up. "We're good to go?"
"Yes! The Great Shukaku has copied every single key and lock in the undercity." The little bag puffed up proudly, sprouting arms solely to cross them in front of the straps. A sandy head appeared with a smug expression on the toothy muzzle, the jaw unhinging like a bear trap. "All one hundred and eight unique iterations across Mariejois are now mine."
"That seems like a low number," said one of the other Revolutionaries. "Is the security around here really that lax?"
"That number was when this Shukaku stopped counting," said the clone in the hat. Sabo felt it shift on his head as he no doubt peeked his beady little eyes out from under the brim. His hair was going to be a nightmare after this. "It was boring."
Every single Revolutionary bit back a put-upon sigh.
Still, that meant it was time to move. Sabo tapped one of the little paws poking out from under his hat, which immediately grabbed the offending digit with tiny needle claws. Luckily, Sabo wore gloves. "Could you tell Chōmei to circle around the north of the city? The Marines redeployed this morning."
"This Shukaku could."
It didn't take Dr. Vegapunk to interpret that tone. "Will you, please?"
There was a tiny puff of air from under Sabo's hat. "This Shukaku has already told him."
High overhead, a low ominous hum started to creep into the very edge of Sabo's observation haki. Muffled and warped as the sound was by distance and the thin air at high altitudes, it took him a moment to pinpoint the direction of the noise. The sound itself was unique enough to raise alarms all over Mariejois if the Marine garrison was conscious. Under Commander-in-Chief Kong, stealth might already be a lost cause.
Then again, stealth really went out the window at around the time the giant sapient animals showed up.
Sure enough, the huge blue-green beetle took a long loop around the northern edge of Mariejois. Six rapidly buzzing wings fanned out behind him, allowing the huge Tailed Beast to fly low and set off every single warning klaxon in the district. Within a minute, cannon shots split the air like percussion to the wingbeats, neatly drowning out any possible noise that might be made in, say, a mass slave exodus from the holy city. Giant Cicada in D minor, with explosions.
"If you do not move, the Great Shukaku is going to jump off this roof and start the rebellion personally," said the Shukaku in Koala's backpack. "Because otherwise all of us will die of boredom."
Koala responded, quite rationally, by throwing the backpack Shukaku at a Mariejois guard passing below them. The high-pitched screech he emitted on the way down was unearthly, but was still rather satisfying the moment it cut off with a muffled whumph! The little dust cloud added to that effect.
The guard flailing about with an amorphous sand blob engulfing his head was an amusing, if a bit grim, sight.
"Let's go," said Sabo, consciously jamming his hat into place as he made a swift exit from their hiding spot. Fortunately, the architecture allowed for the ease of descent as the number and frequency of handholds were numerous. It was actually almost funny.
Koala landed next to him when they hit street level, slamming the guard face-first into the ground with her entire weight and some Fishman Karate for good measure. When metal met polished flagstones, the bag Shukaku waddled down the man's spine and held out both sandy forepaws to be picked up again like a particularly grainy toddler.
In the distance, a battalion's worth of artillery exploded all around Chōmei, to no effect. A rain of silvery scales scattered across the sky directly above the city, starting at the height of Pangaea Castle, and swirled through the street like bug-flavored dust.
Still probably not the worst thing I've ever breathed in, Sabo thought with a faint huff. He tied a kerchief over his face anyway and tugged down his goggles, just to be safe. Baltigo's climate made both accessories a part of his daily outfit.
"You'll take left?" Koala asked, pulling on her own goggles and kerchief. She then scooped the whining Shukaku clone over her shoulder as though the bag was still intact, rearranging her jacket until she was wearing the resulting hybrid monstrosity.
It was kinda cute, though. If one ignored the sandy murder raccoon bit.
"And you'll control the right." Sabo drew his pipe and performed a few experimental swings. Satisfied with the results, he smiled under the kerchief. "Time to liberate Mariejois."
Hat Shukaku and Bag Shukaku both laughed. Simultaneously, with the sound of faraway gears squealing in protest, several of the moving pathways halted and sand creeped up from the depths of the drainage tunnels on the edges. The effect flowed faster than rainwater, causing the ground to rumble uncomfortably beneath their feet.
Shouts and whistles of guardsmen sounded from every quarter, though the sound seemed more frantic than organized. Sabo and Koala managed to duck behind a shrubbery as a group of Marines dashed past their hiding spot.
Bag Shukaku reached out with one sandy paw and said, "This amount of chaos is nothing for the Great Shukaku."
He never really stopped talking.
"That Shukaku is going to take the gates. Watch and learn, humans!"
Mariejois didn't really have "gates," per se. Not the way that a lot of walled cities might, because no commoner besides slaves was ever supposed to ascend high enough to blight the eyeline. Or so Koala told him. After spending two days shuffling through the city's manors in disguise, Sabo was inclined to agree without any arguing; unusual, for both of them. The only slaves he'd seen in daylight were used as pack animals by Celestial Dragons. The undercity was where the rest were kept.
Bought. Sold. Worked to death. Whatever the Celestial Dragons wanted.
And in the distance, the ground rumbled again as though Whitebeard had something to say. Within minutes, a column of smoke and flame rose in the distance as several defensive batteries detonated. A moment later, two battleships' magazines of ammunition started cooking off and exploding like firecrackers.
Sabo should know. He'd planted some of the bombs himself.
Soon, the sky along the city's border—where the sewers met the undercity and met the wall—were ablaze.
Just as Sabo assumed things were going essentially according to plan, Chōmei hung left with a loud guffaw and flew directly overhead. The sound of exploding cannonballs couldn't overpower his voice as he bellowed, "Shukaku! Shukaku, did you see him?"
The groan of the city grew louder, even as people everywhere started screaming.
"I have questions," Sabo muttered up toward his hairline.
"So do I, human!" Hat Shukaku wriggled atop his head.
Sabo considered that, and then a distant, booming version of the same voice said, "What do you want, you gigantic bug?"
A full-sized Shukaku loomed over the manors of the rich and powerful from the west, ruining everyone's day even if he didn't have the personality of a hippo with a toothache. All of the gray-purplish marks on the sand were visible on that one, so Sabo and Koala gave him a very wide berth as they pretended to be panicking members of the public.
It worked better than it normally would have in Mariejois, solely because basically the entire free population was freaking out at once. They both had to dodge being accidentally trampled by very distracted Marines more than once, despite how suspicious they both looked. And this was despite Sabo's suspicions that someone higher up in the World Government knew there was a very human element prodding these giant monsters along.
Well, at least they couldn't mistake them for Sea Kings anymore.
"Shukaku, I saw him! I saw Son Gokū! What a lucky find!" Chōmei did a loop in midair, despite the sheer number of cannonballs and air bullets and so on flying his way. The maneuver caused a shockwave that blew a roof off the nearest manor caught in the downdraft, which the giant insect hardly paid any mind as he wiggled in excitement. "Didn't you wonder why I was late?"
"The Great Shukaku assumed you were taking time for self-expression without a timetable. Or goofing off." A huge sandy paw pointed accusingly at the sky. Though the angle was wrong, Sabo imagined he had little paw pads to match the clones. "Just because that monkey is found doesn't mean you have to be so… flighty!"
Chōmei's lone tail lashed. "Then you'll be glad to know I asked him to follow me here. Honestly, with all these mountains, he can't miss it—"
At this point, a lucky cannonball shot hit Chōmei in his armored face and distracted him.
"What was he talking about?" Koala asked for both of them, as Shukaku's insectoid sibling turned to address the garrison problem. Probably by burning it to the ground. The backdrop of explosions and the screaming of commanders trying to rally their troops was like the sweetest symphony to Sabo's ears.
Served those high-and-mighty hypocrites right.
"Siblings are very loud and annoying," Bag Shukaku said, rolling his beady yellow eyes. There was no self-consciousness in his squeaky voice or his posture. Sabo was honestly convinced that the only Tailed Beast that knew much about embarrassment was Kurama. "We can't hear him complaining now, but just you wait, humans. You have not heard screaming until a monkey is involved."
Not exactly the Monkey I'm used to, but sure. That works.
Koala made a skeptical face, but there was no point in arguing with the Tailed Beasts now. In a very literal way, Sabo and Koala and all of the other Revolutionaries were about as significant as ants to them. Ants that could talk, at most.
But at the same time, everyone here had a job to do.
Shukaku's clones were spread across the city like a sandstorm, if sandstorms manifested as angry little tanuki sticking out of trash bins and storm drains while screaming. Their high-pitched voices belted out dozens of variations of their bombastic babble, even while sandy paws grabbed at Marines and nobles alike. The sheer panic caused by the unending tide of shouting tripwires caused more than enough trouble for the Revolutionaries to go anywhere they wanted.
And if he wasn't, Chōmei was still circling the city like some kind of truly nightmarish vulture.
Sabo and Koala descended on the slave pens with a fury. Plate armor crunched like newspaper under Sabo's armament haki enhanced dragon fist, his hands leaving behind the signature three-finger indentations that his fighting style called for. In his blind spot, Koala dropped men four times her size with Fishman Karate and didn't slow down for an instant. The two of them were a storm of their own making.
And then, the cages. The chains.
Gaunt faces looked upon them with a mixture of fear and hope shining in their eyes, unshed tears and vows of gratitude resounding from the liberated masses. Passing hands touching them as if to remind them that they were real.
Koala took the lead there. She clasped hands with every slave who reached out to her, speaking softly in a voice that carried Fishman Island's accent instead of the more standardized version they'd had to learn from the Revolutionaries. She talked about Fisher Tiger, more than once, especially to the fishman slaves who might otherwise rip themselves away from a human faster than anyone else.
And if, between reassurances, she and Sabo continued turning guards into broken heaps of pain—well, no one minded. The slaves who were willing to stay and watch were more than happy to get their own licks in while they could.
Hack met up with them midway through, with yet another Shukaku clone sticking out of his sleeve.
"Did you clear your sector?" asked Sabo.
Hack nodded. "Well ahead of schedule. We caught them entirely off-guard. The diversion surpassed all expectations."
Sabo's answering grin was as terrible as Hack's. Hack would probably say Sabo's was by far the worse one.
Between the Whitebeard Pirates going after Marineford and the Tailed Beast ambush in the open ocean, the Marines' forces were stretched thinner than they'd been since immediately after Roger's execution. A little more pressure, here or there, could tear through what remained like tissue paper.
Finally, the Revolution's goal was in sight. Even if they were driven off now, the chances the World Government would gracefully recover were slim.
To his left, Koala hefted a bright aqua fishman up by one hand. She spoke as much with her free hand as her voice, persuading a hulking human and another fishman to help her newest rescue toward freedom. It was one small scene in the midst of hundreds of others.
Other Revolutionaries would help escort the wounded and abused to their final destinations, and there they'd all get the same choice Sabo and Koala had when they were children: Stay, and join the Revolution, or be gently resettled into peaceful lives around the world. For fellow victims of the World Government, the Revolution could do no less.
Sabo, Koala, and Hack divided their subordinates between those involved in the next stage of the infiltration and those who were going to help organize the rescues. The latter would avoid even the relatively unarmed firefighting brigades rushing all over Mariejois, because their only goal was to secure a way out. Even if the slaves hadn't been here and ready to run, the Revolutionaries were an organization formed with adaptation in mind.
Dragon hadn't run a Revolution from the shadows for decades to go all in without recourse.
The afternoon's shadows stretched long underneath the columns of smoke and sounds of screaming. Autonomous sand sank entire manors after freeing all the slaves—and if some of them took the time to extract a bit of revenge on their former masters, that was no one's business but theirs.
"A little late, but our district's clear," Koala said, as the last of the grand mechanisms for Mariejois's walkways was finally liberated. "Any word from the top?" she asked a fellow Revolutionary.
"No untoward changes from what some of our agents at the other front are witnessing," the agent responded around his cigarette, turning a dial on the black transponder snail as he listened into the portable receiver for chatter. The snail's mouth moved silently as he spoke. "Someone did say there was a convergence between the Akainu and Aokiji combat zones, but they couldn't get close enough to see anything more. The Two-, Three-, and Six-Tailed Beasts still seem focused on that area."
Sabo frowned in contemplation, worry pinching his brow. Ace had been one of the main combatants versus Aokiji last he'd heard, and the numbers of those Tailed Beasts were the same group that had initially been traveling with him. Had something happened that they weren't aware of? He hadn't just gotten his brothers back to risk losing Ace now.
He eyed the mini Shukaku around them, aware all the more of the one squatting in his hat. Would he say anything if something went wrong? He doesn't seem worried at least...
Though who really knew how much information they shared amongst themselves.
"No sign of Yang Kurama?" Sabo said aloud to banish the intrusive thoughts, setting his worry aside for now.
"No, sir. Though it seems a new Tailed Beast has appeared to aid them, one we haven't seen before. The Five Tails."
"Kokuō? Hah! I wonder how long it took that recluse to wander out of the mist?" said Hat Shukaku. "What an unpleasant surprise for the Marines!"
Not the end of the world, maybe, but Sabo felt the faintest shiver run down his spine anyway. If the only surprise was two new Tailed Beasts appearing inside of four hours, then it'd be a mild day for anyone who'd traveled the length of the New World.
At least Hat Shukaku was happy. For now.
Far above them, Chōmei jerked to a sudden halt in midair. Rather than being a huge target for the remaining cannons on the ground, a silvery whirlwind of dust and scales burst outward from the fanned-out wings, shrouding the source entirely. From the middle of it, Chōmei's low voice, no longer chipper, said, "Shukaku, did you feel that?"
"Wait, what? What is happening?" Hat Shukaku suddenly swiveled around, standing at his full height and facing a direction that threw Sabo for a loop before remembering that another group of Tailed Beasts were there.
At Marineford.
Then, like an echo, a wave of something rippled through their ranks, setting the hair on the nape of Sabo's neck on end and his teeth on edge. It started from the direction Shukaku was facing, coiling up from the ground with invisible fingers and ensnaring all of them in its grip. It had the imminent calm before a tsunami's wave that spoke of impending doom, a formless gong that sent his observation haki into a silent scream of warning with no source to report.
A roar sprang up from a thousand throats, cracking through the sky with all the speed of thunder and the depth of a volcanic eruption. Sabo had to throw his hands over his ears as the din grew in intensity, vibrating his bones as (every) Shukaku and Chōmei and another newer voice bellowed in unison. It was backed with that wave of cold fear that seized the hearts of every person, like on Fishman Island when the Tailed Beasts unleashed their haki, but worse.
This wasn't just about insults.
Sabo blinked as the wave passed and found a startling number of people conscious.
But something had changed.
The air felt… wrong. It wasn't anything concrete, not like a smell or a sound carried separately on the wind amid the cacophony. It was just off in a way that made Sabo's hair stand on end despite the miniature Tailed Beast sitting in it.
"Are you all right?" asked Koala through the noise, holding Bag Shukaku's little face in her hands. In many ways, Koala was braver than most people Sabo had ever met; this was just one demonstration.
"No, none of us are!" Bag Shukaku flowed out of the backpack and out of her hands like only sand could, springing back into shape as a miniature version of the monster still glowering down at all of Mariejois, his hulking form standing even with Pangaea Castle. His stubby ears twitched as he paced around on all fours, clearly distressed. "What have those useless foxes gotten us all into now?"
"Foxes? You mean the Kuramas?" Sabo wondered, suddenly wary. "What about their partners? Is Naruto alright?"
Shukaku turned back toward him, the jagged line of his frown stretching still wider. "No one knows. We can't hear him."
Kei
Waiting was always the hardest part.
I wasn't a stranger to sitting in a hospital long after visiting hours, keeping myself awake with weak tea and the same mental exercises that helped me survive meditation. This world had coffee, which made half the process a little easier. As for the other half… Well, I didn't have the best record of actually meditating before Isobu came along, and my usual method of diverting nervous energy involved deep cleaning my apartment. Not a great outlet while on a submarine.
"Are you sure you don't want me to get you anything?" asked the talking polar bear who served as the ship's first mate. He lingered by the door as though I'd made him an intruder on the spot, which was the exact opposite of how this kind of thing normally worked.
"Here," in this case, described the top of a yellow submarine bobbing gently in the waves. The Polar Tang didn't actually have a waiting room. It didn't need one; the crew's work spaces were more important, and Law didn't seem to be the type to adhere to social niceties. He probably didn't have many other patients anyway.
"I'm fine, Bepo." Mostly because they were far enough from the ice field by now that it wasn't too cold. Siphoning all the seawater out of people's clothes blunted the temperature's adverse effects still more. "I feel more useful keeping watch out here."
Not that I was adding much to security.
The other members of the attack force had arranged themselves around the Polar Tang in a fleet formation that was both an escort and an implied threat. Even enshrouded in Isobu's and Kokuō's deep mist, I could easily make out the chakra signatures of each Tailed Beast following the sub. Matatabi sat atop Isobu's back, curled into a massive flaming donut shape as she awaited news of Yugito's recovery. Kokuō swam in the lead, all four hoofed feet tucked out of the way so the five tails could do most of the work, and Marco and Thatch were somewhere around Han. Saiken brought up the rear, googly eyes peering over the edge of the sub while the rest of him was nearly submerged.
"Would you stop kissing the sub?" Utakata said from next to me, since there wasn't much space at all for the rest of Saiken's head. Explained why what I could see of Saiken looked a little concave, at least. "No one's going to disappear just because you're not smashed flat against it."
"I want it to move faster," Saiken whined. His voice was almost impossible to make out from all the bubbles, but the water neatly cut down on the decibel count. Both of his stalk eyes focused on Utakata. "And you are there and not here."
Utakata barely had to reach out to put his hand flat against Saiken's squishy head. "Fine, fine. Stop making the crew uncomfortable."
"Was I?" Saiken asked, but didn't appear to actually need an answer. Once Utakata hopped up onto his head, Saiken detached himself from the back of the sub with a colossal POP, and the two of them shifted to silent conversation that required less use of earplugs.
Saiken has to be the most graceless of us.
Doesn't seem to bother him much.
Bepo watched them go with all of his fur fluffed out in clear agitation. Once the Six-Tail pair had retreated a good ten meters, some of that fur started to lie flat again. Not that I could blame him; Tailed Beasts were the kind of people that took some getting used to. And from the Heart Pirates' perspective, their first impression was tremendous violence. Shaking that took time.
"Sorry about Saiken," I said to Bepo, once Utakata and Saiken were out of earshot. "He means well, but he doesn't know how ships work. Or people for that matter."
"Ah, no, it's fine." Bepo pressed his hands together, a clear nervous gesture.
I leaned back against the sub's upper hull, shifting a little since I'd been in basically the same lotus position for about twenty minutes. "Since you're up here, I guess things are going well?"
"Oh right, sorry. I was going to say that Captain wanted me to tell you that things are proceeding smoothly and your friend is stable, but then there was, um, Saiken," Bepo rambled, not making direct eye contact as he fidgeted. "Oh, but… You already knew that… Sorry."
At least he wasn't bowing. I hauled myself to my feet and said, "You didn't do anything wrong." After taking a couple seconds to pop my knuckles properly, I went on, "Yugito's still out?"
"Yes, but she's improved quite a bit already. The second-degree burns are mostly clearing up on their own," said Bepo, ears perking up. He scrunched his muzzle as if something occurred to him, pausing in his squirming. "Which doesn't normally happen, but Captain said it's okay. S-so it must be good news?"
If impalement couldn't keep her down, chakra exhaustion definitely wouldn't. She'd had access to half as many powers back then. Matatabi's calm was proof enough that Yugito would be okay in the end.
"Thank you for telling me, Bepo," I said eventually, once I realized I'd been silent for too long. Long lulls made some people anxious. Bepo was probably one of them. "If anything changes…"
"I'll be back," Bepo confirmed, and disappeared back inside like he was shinobi-trained.
I rubbed my eyes as soon as he was gone. With Utakata hanging out with Saiken, and Isobu's back well and truly occupied, some hindbrain nerve insisted I could sleep when I was dead. I'd effectively volunteered myself as the human representative in negotiations, since the Heart Pirates were all wary of the three Whitebeard commanders to some degree and actively afraid of the Tailed Beasts. It wasn't like Han or Utakata was going to do it.
The day you stop putting unnecessary weight on your own shoulders is apparently the day the world ends, said Isobu. About forty meters away, I swore I could hear him sigh.
Apparently. I bonked my head against the hull again, closing my eyes. The sea spray felt nice back here. It was calming, which was something my overworked brain really needed these days. How's Matatabi holding up?
She's snoring.
That well, huh?
Isobu sent me an impression of smoke-muddled vision and freezing rain. Seemed like Matatabi's dreams were a mess. Just like the rest of us.
Everything seems worse when you have not slept. Isobu couldn't lash out with his tails while his back was occupied, which somewhat limited his expressive options. None of the battles still remaining will be ones that we can affect from here. And if they were, those who fight have already accepted the risk.
Easy for us to say. We'd won, by dropping Tailed Beasts and Whitebeards on an unprepared force. The Marine fleet that tried to ambush us was mostly decapitated, lying at the bottom of the sea, or fled. We were free to make our fog-shrouded way to the rendezvous island unopposed. Going by what Isobu said about Naruto's arrival at Marineford, the rest of the chaos was well underway.
I hated feeling useless. Extraneous. Having to wait for results on every front. The coil of tension in my chest wound tighter as though it thought it was a component in some kind of clock.
There were footsteps near me, just barely audible amid the waves.
"Looking kinda restless over here, aren't you?" asked Thatch's voice. He sat down next to me with a heavy thud and an "oof," pausing to wince on impact. "Sheesh, I guess I'm a little more tired than I thought."
I opened my eyes and peered up at his honest smile, no matter how exhausted we both were. Even sitting down, he was tall enough that I had to crane my neck a little. The last time we'd sat together like this, the most serious thing happening was a drinking contest.
"Why the long face?" he asked me.
There were several reasons, and I was pretty sure mentioning most of them was going to mean walking right into a pun or a joke. Instead, I scratched at my scar, averted my eyes, and said, "Tired, bored, and worried at the same time. Pick your poison."
"See, if I was gonna pick one, I'd go back to sake as a mainstay," said Thatch, patting my shoulder with startlingly gentle touch. "The Surgeon of Death doesn't stock near enough for a real party, though, so I guess we're both going dry."
"Doesn't affect me anyway."
"It's not about the drunkenness, it's about the atmosphere." Seeing I wasn't playing along, he changed tactics. "Could always find a barrel of potatoes and make our own. It'd be a fun science project for the next three months." He leaned on his upraised palm. "Or, y'know, it's been a long time since I had a chance to raid a fridge I don't personally stock on weekends. Maybe the Heart Pirates wouldn't mind if I whipped up a little something from their supplies? Ooh, maybe croquettes."
My stomach growled, because it was a traitor and I hadn't eaten since breakfast.
"You'd need their permission," I said, trying to distract him.
"They're gonna have to feed Ace while he's recovering from major injuries," Thatch countered immediately, mock serious. "No chef who realizes what that means is gonna turn down help."
If not for the storage scrolls I'd made for our food supplies, I'd have been muscled right out of our food budget on that first search for Teach. My fingertips twinged where long-healed scratches once sat. Even if the seals didn't require much blood per use and I healed in seconds nowadays, the calorie requirements of one fire Logia demanded a lot of neat little cuts over time.
"Even my help?" I asked at last.
Thatch paused a bit too long. "Well…"
"I've gotten better since I was on the Moby Dick, you know," I huffed at him. While he arranged his face into a perfect picture of skepticism, I said, "Look, Yugito and Ace weren't going to do it. Up until we started hanging out with the Straw Hats, I was the closest thing to a cook we had."
"All right, all right. But it's not my fault that my last memory of your cooking prowess was burning water."
That was probably better recalling than the dubiously-edible sludge I produced with the "help" of the Fourth Division. One of them was probably the real jinx, because that had never happened when I cooked at home. The worst I ever ended up with was scorched vegetables.
I elbowed him anyway.
"Just for that, I'm giving the first croquette to Marco. He respects me."
"Where is he, anyway?"
"Oh, still with Han." Thatch shrugged. "Han seems the real quiet type, and I guess I was talking too much for him. Seems like a nice enough guy under all that armor. Literal and figurative."
"He didn't punch me through a building." I wobbled a hand in midair in a "so-so" gesture. "So, surpassing expectations."
"That bar is so low it's on the floor, Kei," he deadpanned.
"I swear someone mentioned Ace attacking Captain Whitebeard a hundred times in a row." Probably Ace. Pirates were still weird.
"Well, okay, it's a low bar for people who aren't Ace." Thatch laughed, just under his breath. After he was done, he sidled a bit closer so his weight was partly against mine and partly against the wall. "Ah, he'll be a handful when he's awake. Not just for the poor sap getting stuck cooking for him. Also known as me. Think you and Yugito are up to the challenge of keeping him busy while he's stuck recovering?"
That depended entirely on two factors. First, my priority was going to have to be Kushina and Naruto. And as for the second… "I'd rather not get between those two, after everything."
Thatch blinked at me in confusion. "Between what two—oh." His gaze darted skyward as he thought, dawning realization making his eyes wide. "Oooooh. Those two are a thing?"
"I don't know," I hedged, because I wasn't sure, "but they deserve enough time to figure it out."
"Oh, I hope they do," Thatch replied, looking overjoyed at the very idea. He was such a sap. "They'd be so cute together."
"Yeah." I'd already teased Ace about it more than once. Getting around to do the same to Yugito required more ground work. And maybe everyone kinda needed to be conscious, and healthy, and then I could think of something. My thoughts kept getting snagged on it like a fishhook, never quite coming to a conclusion. Constantly cycling.
Thatch tapped my knee. "Hey, Kei?" When I looked back at him, he said a little cautiously, "You went quiet for a bit there."
"I do that," I muttered, gaze skittering to the side. "A lot." Usually Isobu was involved, but he'd spent the last couple of minutes talking to Kokuō. So much for that excuse.
"Well, sure, but I figure you need to hear this, so pay attention?"
I forced myself to look directly at his earnest face.
"Ace knew what he was getting into," said Thatch with uncharacteristic seriousness. He caught my wince and went on patiently, "We're pirates, Kei. We take our lives into our own hands every time we walk up the gangplank and head out to sea. Ace is a tough kid by anybody's standards and has definitely picked up his fair share of injuries. Maybe more. Which is how I know what it's like taking care of him during recovery." Here, he nudged a knuckle into my jaw. A gentle slug. "So chin up, sis. He'll be fine."
Against my general melancholic mood, I found myself smiling just slightly. I let out a slow breath, forcing the would-be sigh into a different shape. Then: "Thanks for trying to make me feel better, Thatch."
"Ehh, what are big brothers for?" Thatch rubbed the back of his neck, mouth slanting into a crooked grin as his voice pitched louder. "We're here if you need us, you know. I mean, he may not look much like it, what with the whole being big and blue and a bit of chicken—"
"I can hear you!" Marco called back to them, clearly overhearing.
"—But he's also a great listener!" Thatch concluded, his mischief managed and a cheeky grin to go with it. "And so are the rest of us. So don't be afraid to talk to us about things, alright?"
I opened my mouth to reply, ready to play things off as a joke like I did when faced with sincerity I didn't quite understand. The Whitebeards were the kind of people who could accept that kind of backhanded response without issue. They did it to each other all the time.
Then came the blast wave.
The creeping sense of dread hit me first, squarely in the middle of my thoughts like a hammer on a wire. While my nerves shuddered through the recoil, my mind was full of nothing but white noise. It pushed me up against the walls of my own skull and flattened everything else to nothing. My ears didn't ring.
Of course they didn't.
There was no actual sound.
"—shit, are you okay?" was where Thatch's voice was when I could process language again.
When I looked up, Thatch held Utakata up by his long blue overcoat, and I had no idea when he'd gotten back to the sub or when Saiken smashed his face up against the hull again. He looked about as ragged as I felt, but slapped his own forehead hard enough to leave a mark while I struggled to figure out words. So, he was probably fine.
"If I ever get my hands on whoever keeps doing that," Utakata hissed as he shook off Thatch's hand, "I am going to gut them with my bare hands." Even with his bravado, it took him a couple of seconds to get his feet underneath him, and it took gripping the nearby handrail and one of Saiken's eyestalks.
Well, if he could be pissy right out of the gate, so could I. "Ugh, only if I don't get there f—"
"We have a problem." Isobu had also gotten closer, and maybe that wasn't the thing I should have noticed third in the sequence of events. " Several problems."
"What's going on?" Thatch asked. On his face, I could practically read the longer version of that question: If we're only having a problem now, after fighting three admirals and a fleet, what the fuck kind of mess are we in now?
Thatch had a very expressive face.
"In order of distance from us, something has cut Naruto off from all his bonds. Violently. Yin Kurama, Kushina, and Killer B are now trapped on Marineford with the Whitebeard Pirate flagship, and—" there was an echoing BANG from belowdecks, and several voices shouting in panicked concert, "— Yugito is awake in much the same way Utakata was, on Banaro."
I was opening the rear door of the sub before Isobu finished any of those sentences, following the explosion of Yugito's chakra.
It was easier than thinking of the problems I couldn't reach.
Luckily, the sub was pretty small. Even the extremely barebones tour I'd gotten when carrying Yugito to the surgical suite was enough to let me navigate the interior. And besides that, a raging jinchūriki was probably the least subtle chakra signature on the planet, barring maybe Matatabi herself.
The entire crew was arrayed around the door to the surgical suite, which was frankly not-enough-kill for a jinchūriki. Once they saw that Utakata and I had arrived, Jean Bart and Bepo relaxed fractionally. Then Penguin and Shachi, and then the rest like dominos. That allowed us to get past them and finally meet Law face-to-face.
Law's body language was somewhere between alarmed and long-suffering once we came into view. His hands were still covered by bloodstained surgical gloves, arms raised in an inoffensive manner (or perhaps not, considering his Devil Fruit). He turned to me, voice completely flat, "I'm not getting paid for this."
I weighed the boiling maelstrom of Yugito's rage to Matatabi's alarm, then compared it to the memory of Utakata's directionless fury. Yugito's chakra signature was nothing when held up to the mess she'd been even a few hours ago. Never mind Utakata's rampage on Banaro. This was more a reflexive response than anything that would last.
Finally, I said, "You're supposed to say 'I'm not getting paid enough.'"
Law rolled his eyes. "Which is also true, but slightly secondary to the feral cat-lady hovering over my patient." He stood aside, an invitation to pass. Snapping off his gloves as he went and tossing them in the nearest trash, having clearly deciding they were too contaminated to use anymore. "Don't let her damage my sub. More."
"No promises," I muttered, stepping past him to finally address the problem.
Yugito was a mess. Despite how her regeneration had healed most of the damage to her dermis, the rest of her was clearly disheveled and frayed in a way that only jinchūriki could be after a battle. She'd even managed to mangle her replacement clothes—Kei's spares—with uncontrolled bursts of chakra. Her hair was undone and bristling with a faint crackle of lightning, her nails extended into claws that dug into the mattress. The sound she made as she met our approach could only be described as a growl, her lips peeling back into a snarl that showcased her fangs.
And below her crouched form was Ace, covered by a surgical sheet and an oxygen mask strapped to his face. The IV in his arm was a relative afterthought to the way a ten-centimeter chunk of his abdomen was lying in a cube of light on a stainless steel tool table.
I'd ask later.
"Yugito, it's just us," I said, entering the room enough to allow Utakata inside behind me. I held my hands in plain sight, nonthreatening. No claws, even if Isobu decided to back me up. I didn't want to hurt her at all. "You're safe."
People said the roar of a mountain lion sounded like a woman screaming. This was both. And yet, she didn't move to attack. Merely hissed, as the reddish haze of Tailed Beast chakra coalesced around her; not enough to form full tails, but her eyes were exactly like Matatabi's.
She bobbed her head side to side. Watching.
Utakata, still behind me, shifted from neutral to grabbing Saiken's chakra without a sound. He'd make the jump to V1 just as fast if he had to, but not before then. It was the least obvious of our options, and Yugito was in no state to recognize the change.
And if they actually did start fighting, this place would last as long as a tin can.
"Yugito, we're on a ship." Hopefully, it helped to deliver information in smaller chunks. "We got a doctor for Ace. Ace is…" Here, my voice caught and I had to take a moment to compose myself. Swallowing thickly. "Ace is hurt. But we can't do the operation if you don't let us."
No sign of recognition.
I didn't move. Any improvement?
Matatabi is available. Which sounded like a bit of a non-sequitur, until Yugito started to sway.
Utakata rushed forward, standing on the ceiling before Yugito's knees even fully buckled or her nails shrank back to normal. He managed to grab her by both elbows, one with Saiken's chakra and the other with his actual hand, and blew a bubble that engulfed her on the spot. With the faintest sound of confusion, Yugito collapsed and was simultaneously snatched entirely off her feet and contained within it.
"Well, that's new," came Law's comment by the door, a reminder that they had an audience.
"I'm available for birthday parties never," said Utakata. He shifted his grip on the bubble experimentally, likely to see if Yugito would wake.
She didn't.
Good.
"Can you even imagine what that would be like?" I wondered aloud, now that my heart was climbing back into its usual position. "A birthday party overrun with shinobi in bubbles."
"Get that image out of your head right now," Utakata ordered.
"Nope, it lives there forever."
Matatabi says she regrets not acting sooner. Isobu's attention turned toward the dent in the wall, which was probably from Yugito rushing Law. Matatabi had dealt with a fully berserk jinchūriki more times in two months than most Tailed Beasts probably ever did, and it was never a problem that originated on her end. Try to tell them that.
Utakata flipped down from the ceiling, holding the now-unconscious Yugito in the same bubble. When it popped, he dropped her unceremoniously into the bed she'd clearly abandoned a minute earlier. She bounced without waking, and Utakata grumbled as he tucked her back into the sheets.
"So, how likely is a repeat performance going to be?" Law asked, rather reasonably. He was already halfway through the process of sanitizing his hands for another round of medical magic. It was the only way to describe what he was doing with his Devil Fruit, though the word "magic" would probably piss him off.
Bepo dutifully held up the box of gloves by his side, eying Yugito just as warily. I didn't blame him one bit. No one liked the idea of a patient who could go off like a landmine.
Or an ally.
"No idea," said Utakata, who was clearly not in a mood to be helpful. "Shout if she starts acting up again."
And with that, he left the room as though he was back in his sullen teenager phase.
Out of the side of my mouth, I muttered "Seriously?" to the empty air. Once Utakata was long gone (and hopefully talking to the Tailed Beasts outside), I strode across the room to sit on the side of Yugito's mattress. With her wrist in my hand, I could get a better view of her chakra through a basic medical scan.
Which said, at the moment, that she was as deep in Matatabi's genjutsu as was likely safe. Having two minds to fight against a single genjutsu, like jinchūriki did, only worked while they were in sync. This, however, was a new take on sedation, now that Yugito was probably immune to narcotics.
"If you're going to sit there, you should sit on her," Law threw over his shoulder, snapping on a new pair of gloves.
"It's fine," I said. "She won't be waking up for a while."
"Oh?"
"The only thing keeping her out was exhaustion before. Now, it's Matatabi." I put Yugito's arm back down, then moved it to rest across her stomach. "Safer this way. And if by some miracle she does get up, she'll go through me first."
He hummed thoughtfully, approaching the operating table and the glowing cube. His yellow eyes were already laser-focused on a particular section of Ace's gut, as sharp and shrewd as a hawk's. He picked up a scalpel. "Well, hopefully you aren't squeamish."
"Do what you have to," I told him, because there was no way I was sitting down and explaining my entire lifetime's worth of skills to someone who had a job to do. Instead, I shifted so I was cross-legged again and ready to wait. And at the same time, I prodded Isobu to say, What else?
Follow me.
Kushina
Kushina saw the eruption from her vantage point atop Yin Kurama's head. The sound hit a second later, hammering on the whole of Marineford with the resonating BOOM.
An achingly familiar explosion of chakra made her heart seize in terror at the implications. The red and black column of energy spearing through the sky was unmistakable. The reverberations twanged through their bond like strings on an instrument, connections strained and screeching as nails dragged along the line.
Naruto.
Waves crashed against the white strings of the Birdcage, billowing between the gaps like a taunt. The space between was barely enough for a lone human to pass through without being shoved through the shredder. Some marine squads were already trying to saw through the strings and widen the gaps, though their efforts, it seemed, were in vain.
"B," Kushina said, half through their jinchūriki connection, "I need to be out there."
Her chains swayed in the air around her like an audience of cobras, with only a few keeping her secured to Yin Kurama's crimson fur. Damn the army at her back, that was her baby out there in the middle of the chaos, and no amount of trust in her pirate crew of the last few months would make up for the fear.
Kushina had been worried about Naruto long before he was even conceived. The worst of it crystallized on the night he'd been born, and in some ways there was no coming back from that extreme. A tiny part of Kushina's mind remained in the moment Minato teleported her back to their son, just after Kurama had been half-torn out of her to form Yin and Yang, and remembered the ache of tears against her eyes as she scooped her newborn against her chest. Tatsumaki's birth had been nowhere near as nightmarish.
"Dunno how to do that without leaving allies behind," said Killer B, having climbed up in the time it took for everyone to calm down a little. Or at least redirect their wrath. "This Birdcage thing has us in a bind."
There was a world-shifting BOOM as Whitebeard slammed his power against the Birdcage's strings. The white lines bowed outward where he struck, as though he'd dented it from the inside. A handful of the white lines looked like they were one blow from bursting, before regenerating back like nothing had happened.
Not good.
"Perhaps more power is required," Gyūki rumbled, his horned head emerging from the sea just inside of dwindling barrier. A few of his tails were already in the process of regenerating after being minced against the string wall. Below, the ships congregating at that location scattered like ants, finally making good choices.
In the distance, she could see the Red Force's sail making a beeline for the area she knew Naruto had transformed. Kushina wasn't sure if she could hear chakra-enhanced screaming through the connection or in the wind. Her connection to Yin Kurama was still strong, but the mirroring bond with Naruto was tenuous at best.
She'd already tried to summon him, and Yang Kurama when that failed. Then Yin Kurama, solely to see if it would work at all. There was blood under her nails from the blowback, though the pain had only lasted an instant.
Kushina leaned down and rested her hand against the thick fur. "Yin, what's the status on Yang Kurama?"
"Unhappy." Yin Kurama's ears twitched like he was listening for something, his muzzle wrinkling. "Whatever hit him hasn't allowed him to hit the ground yet and he cannot call on Naruto now. Without him, no one can. Damn these Devil Fruits…" Yin Kurama's long ears swiveled forward. "He says to keep an eye out for someone named 'Kuma.'"
Damn. "B, can you summon Gyūki?"
"I don't see why, but I'll give it a try."
Kushina was a little busy surveying the Birdcage for shrinkage, at least while Killer B made his attempt. It was too large to block with her chakra chains directly, one chain per each string. She'd be able to keep part of the island safe, but that was not remotely acceptable.
Not least because she didn't care about Marineford.
"No dice, home slice." She heard B's verdict and closed her eyes in mute frustration.
There had to be a way.
"Enough of this, Kurama. Let's do it," Gyūki growled, rearing up to his full height, his horns nearly brushing the top of the string construct as he pivoted with a great heave, somersaulting so his back faced the Moby Dick and their allies. The pointed ends of his tentacles eased him into the landing, careful to allow those few Marine ships that were in the fray to scuttle out of the immediate impact zone.
They didn't intend to kill everyone, after all.
Yin Kurama, meanwhile, turned neatly on the spot and picked his way through the Marine structures until he dropped off the side of the artificial island. The water's surface rippled where he landed, but he found his stride and rushed the rest of the way to Gyūki's side.
"Targeting sorted out?" Kushina asked, over the rush of waves and wind.
"I hope so!" shouted one of the Whitebeard Pirates, from the deck of the Moby Dick.
"We'll hit it in a bit," Killer B said, making a framing gesture with both hands. "Looks good to me. In three?"
Kushina nodded.
One.
Two.
Three. At their silent call, Gyūki and Yin Kurama's Tailed Beast Bombs collided with the Birdcage at the same point, far enough away from allies that Whitebeard could counteract the resulting wave. Upward, at an angle, the eye-searing bursts of chakra cleaved through the Birdcage's white border like a finger shoved through wet tissue paper.
The rest withered like a popped balloon and thread fragments rained from the sky.
But Kushina was already moving, hand gripped tight to the hairs on the tip of Yin Kurama's tail before the Tailed Beast Bombs even landed. Her chakra cloak coalesced into a flamelike shield as she climbed. A buffer for the wind. And with a whip-crack that would have turned anyone else into bloody mist, was shot out at blinding speeds. A veritable comet of pissed-off jinchūriki that had her sights set on one thing and one thing alone.
She had just enough time to see her baby, already red and black in the throes of V2, attempt to cleave off Shanks's other arm and gouged a huge chunk out of the railing instead. Bones mimicking Yang Kurama's own structure burned around him like he'd been possessed by an undead kitsune instead of a very living one, rattling atop his head and all around his limbs like a macabre costume.
Shanks knocked Naruto's V2 berserk state overboard with a wave of conqueror's haki, but he landed on the surface of the water without issue. Only to spin, jaws gaping at the large blindingly gold figure of Fleet Admiral Sengoku, who was by some providence kicking the air to stay above the water. He did not seem to fare well against the onslaught, the toxic power of the V2 cloak searing burns into his unarmed hands, tarnishing his gold veneer.
And then she zeroed in on the root of the problem. It was as easy as following the chakra-tainted strings with her own eyes. A pink feather-coated abomination grinning like a jester as he puppeted her boy's movements, a gruesome play right out of Suna's nightmare playbook.
Kushina saw red.
Adamantine chakra chains ripped their way out of her system as she landed, water exploding all around her as their mass shoved everything else out of the way. Some chains shot through the air in light-catching spirals, coiling entirely around Naruto and locking him into place with even his chakra contained. The others wove directly through the ranks of Doflamingo's strings and severed everything they touched.
"I think we've found our mama bear! Or should I say 'fox'?" The man threw his head back and laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. He stood balanced on a string suspended between two masts, bowing the ships slightly inward with his weight. "Coming to ruin the fun already? Oh, but we had so many laughs!"
"I'm going to flay you alive," Kushina promised in an icy tone. She didn't need to look around to know a V2 jinchūriki—even her son—could wreak havoc across an unprepared fleet. Few of the people here had even seen a transformation like that before.
His grin was sickeningly confident, the glare from his glasses making him seem all the more inhuman as he wagged his tongue in her direction. "I'd like to see you try—"
And that was when a wave of Gyūki's black ink washed over him, as what usually happened to anyone the Eight-Tails didn't like. He plummeted off the string with a shriek, but Kushina didn't trust that. Not one bit. Luckily, she didn't have to worry much longer as B finally caught up to the fore.
In the instant Doflamingo was blinded, Kushina dragged herself to Naruto rather than the other way around. Her chains compressed his V2 cloak—the first one she'd ever seen him use—nearly against his own skin, letting her swing him up onto the deck of the Red Force behind Shanks.
"I take it something's wrong with the kid," said Lucky Roo, even as he lined up a shot on the suddenly-embattled Warlord.
"Not a bad guess, Roo," Kushina replied over her shoulder, even as her chains wove into a restraining bubble.
Naruto writhed in the middle of the sphere while the barrier took hold and started slowly peeling away the outermost layer of corrosive chakra. The facsimile of Yang Kurama's skeleton fizzled away into mist at the slightest touch of Kushina's sealing technique, which might have been a sign of either lack of reinforcement from Yang Kurama or lack of will. Even with Naruto right in front of her, this didn't look like aggression.
It looked like pain, spiraled out of control.
"The punishment for treason is summary execution, Doflamingo!" Sengoku roared in the background.
"Is that what we're calling creative thinking nowadays? You're not so young anymore, Buddha!" Doflamingo shot back, sounding entirely too gleeful about the whole scenario, his voice practically dripping in malice. "That brat really was something, huh? I can already tell you're slowing down."
"With everything going down, I'm not gonna bet on that clown," said Killer B from unusually close by. He must have gotten back to the ship not long after Kushina climbed aboard. "Hey, Gyūki? Let's show him how it's gonna be."
And then Killer B rejoined the fray, seven swords a-swinging.
"Roo, Yasopp, can you cover me for a little while?" Kushina asked, while the battle raged all around them. A minute or so more and she might be able to wear the cloak down to her own level. Then she'd be able to actually hug him for the first time since the fighting started.
"Like you had to ask," said Yasopp, and took aim.
The next sixty seconds of chaos didn't come close to the Red Force at all. In the back of her thoughts, the acknowledgement of the explosions and shrieks and clashing blades happened, but none of it broke her concentration on her fūinjutsu. That fight—and the bucking of the sea that followed every time someone else threw a punch—didn't matter compared to the slow disentanglement of Naruto's chakra system.
Come on, I've got you. You'll be fine. Kushina didn't let any of her fear creep into her thoughts. The self-control didn't seem to matter either; he didn't move as though he heard her.
Keep trying, said Yin Kurama. Something in the distance burned shadows away like a camera flash, but ten thousand times wider. He didn't tell her what it was.
Naruto may not have reacted to her wishes, but the V2 cloak loosened its grip the longer she concentrated. It flaked away like ash, leaving V1 and its translucence. The storm of energy calmed, bit by bit, until Kushina once again held her son in her hands.
The chains circled around them both, completing a binding seal she hadn't needed to use in a decade.
Cradling his head, Kushina shoved Yin Kurama's chakra down into a banked fire so she could lower Naruto into her lap. He always complained now how he was too old for coddling, and started shying away from the physical affection that was Kushina's mainstay from childhood onward. He was the big brother. He didn't want bear hugs or to be patted on the head or even hang on to his parents anymore.
Too grown up.
Kissing his forehead, Kushina closed her eyes. "It's okay, sweetheart. I'm on my way."
And activated the array.
AN: Not for nothing is Kushina the person Minato goes to when he needs help with seals.