An ominous silence had befallen the Hokage office, weighing down on its occupants with the strength of the words spoken before. Hiruzen Sarutobi knitted long fingers in his lap, regarding the towering man before him with a stern look.
Hyōjin Uzumaki didn't flinch, bearing the backlash of his statement with all the dignity of a man convinced in the righteousness of his words. On the contrary, he drew himself higher, shoulders squaring, as his eyes fixed on each of the council members in turn, as if challenging them to contradict him.
"So you would have us wage a war?" Koharu broke the silence finally, a pinch of incredulity colouring her words.
"I would have you do whatever possible to return my daughter safely to me." he said evenly, voice suspiciously void of the turbulent emotions Hiruzen Sarutobi knew to be seething below the surface.
"We are doing everything in our power, Uzumaki-sama, but we need to proceed cautiously." Homura explained, fixing the glasses up his nose.
"Everything in your power is very little indeed if all you would do is send a team consisting of newly-found genin to retrieve one of the most important assets for this village."
Sandaime sighed quietly, reading the man's desperation in his carefully masked words, for desperate he was if he was willing to address the issue of Kushina's usefulness for Konoha rather than the simple fact that his daughter was kidnapped. He was referring to her in the way he despised most – as if she were a weapon first and human second – all for the sake of stirring the village's elders into action.
Those sentiments Hiruzen Sarutobi understood well; he would likely do the same for any of his sons, but in this case it was the village's safety that was at stake. Much as he wanted to grant the man's wish, he knew – as well as Hyōjin Uzumaki did for that matter – that there was indeed very little that he could do.
"Attacking them head on right now would be unwise." Danzō said quietly, "The information we have is scarce and our military preparation is incomplete. Plunging into a skirmish to an unknown effect would draw the rest of the nations into a full-blown war."
"Wars have been waged for less."
"With chances of success, probably." the bandaged man continued, unperturbed. "Konoha would be at a major disadvantage should we decide to engage militarily without the possession of a single Bijū, when each of our enemies has at least one or more. Kumogakure in particular currently hold the two strongest and a third without a host."
By the lack of displayed emotions on the Uzumaki's face Hiruzen could only conclude that the man had considered all those factors already before proceeding with his request. He was unfazed.
"Hyōjin-sama." The Hokage began, a certain tiredness colouring the heavy words. "As you were informed earlier, some of Jiraiya's best informants are already working on the case even as he and his team are headed towards Konoha in this very moment. As soon as information on Kushina's location is provided we will send an expert team to retrieve her. We have judged the Infiltration and Retrieval approach to be most efficient in the current situation and I assure you the team sent will be proficient enough to do their duty excellently. I have faith in their cause and ask you to do the same."
The red-haired man fixed him with an impassive look.
"So you refuse my request."
"I am afraid I have little alternative, my friend."
Had he been any less observant the Hokage might have missed the small differences in the man's otherwise composed expression. Years of experience had thought him to watch carefully, however, and Hiruzen couldn't help but notice the man's eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly, nostrils flaring with the quiet fury at being dismissed for something he considered of vital importance.
"Very well. In that case I would like to remind Hokage-sama that the well-being of an Uzumaki member is in the best interest of both Konohagakure and Uzushiogakure. In fact, the well-being of the Bijū host chosen from our clan was a vital point in the agreement between our villages and a failed attempt to assure it when you could have taken actions would be seen not only as disrespectful, but also insulting. I would hate to see our villages alienated, so for the sake of the prolonged alliance between Konoha and Uzushio: I hope you know what you are doing." with those deceptively calm words Hyōjin Uzumaki inclined his head ever so slightly before leaving the silent office.
Her quiet footsteps echoed through the empty corridor as she cautiously walked away from the room she had initially thought to be her prison and her death-cell. Stealth was irrelevant at this point, not when she knew that the Raikage could detain her at any moment if he so wished – leaving the door unlocked had been an obvious enough invitation and the lack of a stationed guard in front was proof enough of her suspicions – she was welcome to explore the empty premises.
This indicated little change in her status however – what difference did it make whether she was trapped between four or four hundred walls? She was still held against her will, a fact that the Raikage was very well aware of; the man was sure to have her monitored.
Therefore, hiding her presence and masking her footsteps was not only quite difficult with her locked chakra, but also quite unneeded at this point.
What she did need was an empty room with little chance of disturbances, somewhere where she could lock herself and work on removing the seal binding her; they were fools for underestimating the abilities of an Uzumaki, young as she may have been. She would catch them unaware and run for it.
With a contemplative look she turned towards the tall windows on her left, lining the corridor she was now slowly following. She was somewhere low, on the ground floor of an unknown building, located in a forest if the multitude of gnarled trees outside was anything to go by. It spoke little of her precise location, seeing as trees were no outstanding commotion, but the sunlight brushing against the top of the thick green crowns was enough to indicate the general direction she was facing. If her calculations were correct, she need only run south and she would at some point reach the Konoha border, if she was indeed lucky enough.
Heck, even going through the Yu border would be help enough, seeing as the country separating Konoha and Kumo geographically was better disposed towards the former.
A glance to the right revealed the same repetitive view as some minutes ago: room after room, each door locked (as she found out the practical way), hinting at some sort of remote military accommodation facility that seemed to be currently uninhabited.
After the seventh try at barging into one of the restricted premises she had given up, searching for a bathroom instead and hoping that whoever was playing sentry would have the decency to give her privacy; not that she wouldn't abuse said decency to work on that damn chakra-binding Seal, but still.
An irregularity in the pattern up ahead caught her eyes – a door in between the barred windows, clearly leading outside; and while it suggested little seclusion, anything was better at this point than the seemingly endless corridor. Without thinking she sped up, footsteps slapping impatiently on the tiled floor as she half-jogged to the door and reached for the handle in one breath.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
The voice came from behind her, startling her to attention, and she whirled around violently, one hand reaching for a non-existent weapon holster yet again, out of habit.
A young boy, probably a few years older than herself, was standing in the threshold of the room opposite the exit, leaning in the door frame with his hands casually crossed, regarding her with a curious look. He was unarmed and there was no tension in his posture, as if he truly simply wanted to chat; as if she was no prisoner and he was no exit guard.
Or was he?
The girl straightened out of her defensive stance, eyeing him speculatively. She didn't recall ever seeing him in the previous timeline, and it would have been pretty impossible to have met him and forgotten – he had a most peculiar hairstyle that would imprint itself in anyone's memory – reaching down to his shoulders in an unruly mess, it was dyed white on the right side and dark on the left. As if the peculiarity of his colouring was not enough, a large diamond-shaped purple mark was adorning the right side of his face, as if he had made an unsuccessful attempt at camouflage.
Whoever he was, future knowledge would not help her here and for the first time in some years Kushina found herself truly uncertain about approaching someone. With a pang of worry she realised she had grown too complacent with her absolute knowledge of events to come – its presence had comforted her and its lack was now turning daunting.
"And why not?" she demanded finally, choosing to play it dumb until he revealed his station.
Maybe he was a prisoner like herself? Curiously enough, he didn't appear to be wearing a forehead protector or any marks indicating his village allegiance.
"Because the island is full of giant wild beasts that no one can control, they would rip you to pieces." he said matter-of-factly as if it was the most obvious explanation to an everyday situation.
The island? So they weren't on the mainland after all – she was right to assume their location was somewhat remote – she just hadn't known how very much so it was.
They had come up with a good enough plan – it was unlikely she would make her escape if she couldn't break the seal binding her chakra; as good a swimmer as she may be, not being able to run over the water-expanse to the mainland gave her little chances of slipping away without being caught.
An island under Kumo control however, with a military base constructed on it, was highly unlikely to have beasts as fearsome as the boy claimed. That part of his tale sounded like a load of bull used to subdue unruly children. She just couldn't understand whether he truly expected her to fall for it or whether he himself had been fooled by it into staying put.
Reluctantly she let go of the handle, gulping past the lump in her throat – escape would have to wait.
"I don't see any beasts." she said flatly, channelling a degree of confidence that she was definitely not feeling.
"They never come here. They are afraid of me. Well, most of them are."
Years of experience had taught Kushina to never underestimate strangers; if there was one important lesson every shinobi learned, it was that appearances could be very deceiving. Even so, she couldn't help lifting an eyebrow at the cocky statement, mostly because the boy seemed to genuinely believe the island was indeed swarmed by dangerous creatures.
The intent look he gave her next was almost unsettling, his eyes traveling from her toes to the tips of her hair, studying her like a scholar might examine a particularly puzzling object.
"You're one of them, aren't you?" he asked quietly before she could voice any protests.
For a moment she could only stare at him, trying to figure out what on Earth he was going on about.
"What, a beast?"
"No, I mean like me." was the quiet, strained answer and Kushina didn't miss how his hand moved to hover over his stomach instinctively, eyes hardening with an unvoiced emotion.
Whatever doubts about this guy she had had before, quickly evaporated, realization dawning on her and with it – a horrible familiarity with the hollow look that this child bore; he was like her, like she had been so many years ago before she knew better.
"You're a Jinchūriki." she stated with simple certainty.
A quick nod.
"Hachibi's host for two years now."
There was a certain hint of pride in his words, as if surviving two whole years as the host of a Tailed Beast was a feat in its own and he considered it an outstanding accomplishment, despite the burden.
"Were you kidnapped too, ya know?"
Surprise flickered across his face.
"Kidnapped? No, why would uncle… wait, you were kidnapped?" he asked suddenly, hand twitching over his weapon holster and Kushina took a step back, gluing herself to the opposite wall.
"Your uncle is the Raikage?" she asked quickly, barely squashing down the illogical feeling of antagonism towards a kid who had done nothing wrong apart from being born in the wrong family, in the wrong village.
"Yes and he's a good man. He would never kidnap anyone just like that."
The confusion and stress of the situation, coupled with the flaming statement justifying an open act of aggression towards herself and Konoha as a whole, were enough to ignite a spark of anger within her, and before Kushina knew it she had clenched a fist, straightening up to her full height.
To be dragged here against her will was one thing, but to be accused of lying about it on top of it all was a whole other.
"Did you think I'd come to Kumo in my own free will, huh?" she demanded, pointing sharply at her forehead protector, proudly displaying Konoha's insignia. "Do I look like the person who would betray her village, ya know? No, your uncle and his men brought me here against my will and now your uncle is hoping to bribe me into staying voluntarily. Is that why you're here? Did he fetch me a buddy to play with? You can tell him it ain't gonna work, ya know!"
The boy before her had gone wide-eyed at the violent outburst, mouth hanging open as if he had never seen someone take a tone with him. Seconds rolled, the silence interrupted only by the girl's heavy breathing, rage barely contained.
Truth be told, the whole situation was exasperating. The Raikage had openly declared himself against Konoha's tactics of buying her allegiance with "friends to play with", yet he was doing just that on a much more intimate scale.
With unease she realised yet again that if she had indeed been kidnapped the first time around, if the man's speech from earlier didn't convince her then this most certainly would – she had been so lonely in that first timeline, and had felt so shunned and misunderstood that the mere fact that she was meeting someone who shared her burden would have probably overwhelmed her.
"I am not the Raikage's henchman, if that's what you are referring to." the boy said finally, eyebrows furrowing in clear animosity, whether towards her or towards the flaunted family relation, she couldn't be certain. "Who do you think you are, me coming here for you only, give me a break. I don't care about your village or where you come from or how you got here. I'm here because I can't leave, because this is the only place equipped for dealing with people like us who might lose it at any one moment. You should consider yourself lucky to even be brought here, uncle did you a favour!"
A vein had started throbbing dangerously on his forehead, his face acquiring a suspiciously purple tint. Obviously angry as he was, his rage did nothing to qualm her own emotions and the girl ended up reacting more violently than she probably should have.
"Lucky?! How is it lucky to be torn away from everything and everyone you love, what luck is that, ya know! I asked for no goddamn favours!"
"Well aren't you a selfish little brat! Do you think I live here, miles from my home, because I like it?! I'm here, because I'm dangerous to others just by being alive, because the Tailed Beast I carry can kill everyone back home! It is a favour, yes, a favour to those people you said you love! The further away from them you are, the better; and if you truly cared about them you wouldn't whine about your own petty feelings, but appreciate the fact that they don't have to live with a looming threat within their ranks!"
He might have punched her in the face and she would have probably been less stunned. The boy's heated speech clashed over her like a tidal wave, effectively freezing her in place, and Kushina found herself staring at him through wide disbelieving eyes, mouth hanging comically open.
Ringing silence ensued, the other Jinchūriki obviously expecting some sort of comment and eyeing her through no small measure of surprise when no such followed.
The unbearable truth in his words, dumped over her like a bucket of ice-cold water, stung in a new, unfamiliar way, her chest suddenly constricting with the realization that he was right in all the wrong ways. He was likely not in control, an actual threat for the people around him, unlike her – she could live amongst her friends and family freely if she so chose, she had never been a threat in that way, but… she was a target.
A target for a powerful man.
A target who put everyone at risk.
With a sudden disorientating thrust her perspective shifted forcefully, as if someone had pulled the rug from under her feet. The girl shot out a hand at the wall to steady herself, pressing one palm to her forehead in an attempt to squash the upcoming headache.
A looming threat within their ranks… That's what she had become, what she would always be until the masked man was stopped; and the truth was she had made very little progress in that direction.
What guarantee did she have that she would stop him? All the knowledge of the future was useless in the hands of someone who did not know how to use it; her clues were far too few, the information she had acquired in her dying moments was far too sparse. Worries had gnawed on her until now, the constant fear that she will fail yet again, but she had grown overconfident in her fleeting successes in Konoha and put those to rest at the back of her mind.
Now, for the first time in a long while, she was faced with the raw unflinching reality of her likely failure and its consequences.
What would happen to Konoha if she lost despite everything? What would happen to Minato? What would happen to Uzu and her parents? Would they have to face the same fate?
Despite appearances she was no child; she couldn't wrap herself in the safe blanket of denial and ignore the possibility that her actions might not only make no difference, but also make matters worse. Because of one thing she was certain: Madara Uchiha, or whoever the masked man might be, was surely after Kyūbi and he would chase her regardless of her choice in life.
The painful idea of shunning Minato had crossed her mind before – after all, the Kyūbi's extraction had been made possible due to her weakened state through pregnancy. If she hadn't been with child it would have been avoided altogether. And she knew that, aching as it may have been, had avoiding Minato been the healthiest, most convenient choice, she would have made it – for his sake. To make sure that he survived she would stay away from him.
Even as she had considered it, however, she had known it was futile – someone as powerful as her attacker would stop at nothing to achieve his goals. Her pregnancy had simply been a convenience that he exploited, but he was sure to find some twisted way to succeed no matter the case presented; and maybe in such an eventuality his attack would be impossible to halt, causing Konoha's utter destruction? No, she had given up on the idea, branding it as a path that strayed too far from the original timeline, bringing with it too many variables and unknowns that she could not allow.
Now a whole new path presented itself before her in the most unexpected way, an idea that she had never, would have never considered, if not for the misfortunate turn of events.
What if she wasn't in Konoha at all?
What if she stayed in Kumogakure as she was being offered by a man, who should have, by all rights, killed her? What would failure mean then?
Her village would be attacked and her Kage would be in danger, but that village wouldn't be the Leaf; that Kage wouldn't be Minato.
Even if she failed, her home would be safe.
Not only that, but one of Konoha's strongest enemies would be brought down to their knees. For a moment she paused, guilt flooding her mind as she considered all the innocent civilians that she was thinking of eventually dooming for the sake of saving her own home. People who, just like her friends, had hopes and dreams and loves.
People whom she didn't know.
Vice, your name is selfishness.
In a battle between her humanity and her love, how could common decency stand a chance? If she had to choose between sacrificing a village full of strangers to save a group of people whom she loved, how could she choose the latter? She was, after all, only human, no matter how many lives she lived.
If I stay in Kumo, though, Konoha will lose the military advantage of a Bijū. Even as the thought crossed her mind she knew that the counter-arguments she was fighting herself with were pointless. A weak attempt at convincing herself that selfishly returning home was a good choice, not for her, but for everyone.
Konoha had never really harnessed her Jinchūriki power on the battlefields, however, forcing her to fall back to prevent a direct attack on the village; an attack that had never come. It wasn't her who had won the upcoming war. It was Minato. Konoha's Yellow Flash. Her loss would shake them, yes, but they would have a beacon of hope to guide them later on. And it was in the darkest hour that the light shone brightest.
And she wouldn't truly abandon them, would she? Jiraya's network of informants was spread wide and far, she could come in contact with them and relay information that only someone high up in the Kumo shinobi ranks could harness – she would have those positions guaranteed to her; an unique chance that she couldn't have hoped for if she had decided out of the blue that she would defect from Konoha for its own safety.
In wake of the war she knew was brewing, this intel could save numerous lives; in fact, now that she came to think of it, she could report future knowledge in such manner too – no one would question her source of information; people would just assume she learned it at her post. She could intervene in the misfortunate events that were to come and claim she simply had intel – she could still prevent Sakumo's, Obito's, Rin's deaths and so many others. She could save everyone and no one would think her mad.
She could interfere freely with the events in Uzu, using her strength to its full capacity. She could prevent the calamity before it even occurred; she could save everyone; her parents wouldn't have to die.
The thought of them made her bite her lip subconsciously, imagining what they would think when they hear of their only living child defecting Konoha as if her loyalty cost only so much in the hands of an invisible enemy. Would her father denounce her? Would her mother hide the silent tears over another child lost? Would they be ashamed? Would they never speak to her again?
Would it matter if it meant their lives?
Perhaps she could contact them at some point in the future, when the masked man was taken down and it was safe to talk freely of her situation; when maintaining pretences before Kumo wouldn't be so vital and she could allow herself some respite. Perhaps she could find them then and explain everything, even if they thought her mad for it (and would they really? Who else would believe a time-altering story if not for the Fūin masters who knew the countless possibilities of Fūinjutsu)? Perhaps she would have the chance to stand before them once more and drop to her knees, begging forgiveness for all the pain she would have caused.
Perhaps…
The chips were falling down to form a solid puzzle now, her head spinning from the possibilities this choice presented, as if she had just looked through a prism and seen a whole new world.
She wouldn't have to hold back here, she could display her full potential and ask for more; she could start from where she left of, instead of repeating what she knew, all just for pretences – no one here would question her progress after all; she could easily claim Konoha put her through intensive shinobi training for her Jinchūriki status and that would be that. Not only wouldn't they have no means of confirming the truth, they would in fact expect it. If anyone from Konoha ever doubted her, she would give them a similar explanation with Kumo in those lines.
She would finally have the freedom to pursue the masked man in any means available; heck, she could even ask the Raikage for help – the man seemed desperate to recruit her, she would probably be able to negotiate a few terms.
She would find him faster, easier even, and no one would have to die – not Konoha citizens and not the innocent bystanders of Kumo. Not the Raikage and not Minato and-
Her heart clenched painfully, something icy coiling in her stomach.
Minato.
Minato…
She would have to leave him.
Once, a lifetime ago in a life that seemed so distant and unreal by now, she had feared him leaving her behind; he had promised her over and over again that he never would. A beautiful origami blossom had taken the shape of that promise; one which she had kept until her dying breath. How ironic was it that now she was considering being the one to cause him what she feared he would cause her? How cruel?
But this was a different timeline; a different life. There was no origami blossom, not yet and there might never be; there was no promise to keep – only the unspoken affection in her words for a boy she loved no less. Yes, he was not her Minato, but she had gotten attached to the sunny boy all over again, the fragile feeling growing steadily with each passing day. Her betrayal would hurt him more than she would have liked: a member of his own team, defecting for reasons unclear.
Because if she made that choice she wouldn't see him again, perhaps never, and definitely not on good terms. She wouldn't be able to explain. And it would break his heart.
Or would it? Maybe she had imagined the bubbling feelings behind his sincere words; maybe she had misread his curiosity, dormant feelings of a past life blinding her. He was just a child after all; her loss would sting him, but surely he would get over her quick enough.
Their feelings were incomparable – for him she was a friend, whom he had known for a brief period of his life. For Kushina he was her first love and would be her last – the man she would always cherish, no matter what. Who was she lying to; it wasn't Minato's potential hurt feelings that were causing the laden feeling in her chest – it was her own. Having to grow up far away from the people she loved, having to live a life far away from him, now, when she had received a second chance in the most unexpected way, was a thought painful enough to bring a sting to her eyes.
But it was the prospect of losing him again that truly terrified her; the thought which truly caused her pain.
Staying in Kumogakure, however, painful as it may be, would eliminate those possibilities; would mean he would be safe.
Had she not considered it already after all, everything for his sake? Had she not reached to the wrenching conclusion that if she had to, she would let him go? If it meant his happiness at the cost of her own, how could she not? As long as she knew he was safe and alive somewhere, how could she not be happy too?
After all, she had already had a lifetime of smiles and laughter with him, a life filled with more love than most people could ever hope to find. Was it not greedy to want, no, to expect more?
Perhaps this was why she was sent back; not by a jutsu on the whim of the man by her side, but by a greater force that she had failed to consider. Perhaps it had been fate who determined it, a God with a twisted sense of justice, who gave her one more chance to do what she should have done in the first place – stayed away from everyone for their own good.
Had it all been a dream? Sometimes, in moments like those, she couldn't even tell anymore, blissful blurred memories clashing with the clear recent ones of a second childhood that was no less sweet.
It would have to do. It would be enough.
Another ache was fighting to make itself known no matter how much she tried to squish it; a thought worming itself in her consciousness against her will, for she knew that if she gave herself in those feelings it would crush her with the weight of the strongest loss. That of a mother, who lost a child.
Despite all the differences and the alterations that she was planning to make, despite not being certain whether this Minato would even want her again at all, despite all the insecurities, she had harboured a hope somewhere deep within that one day, when this was all over, she would once again hold a golden-haired child in her hands. That she would once again kiss its cheeks and rock it to sleep, singing lullabies. That this time there will be no tears streaming down her cheeks as she did so.
How much she had wanted, nay, how much she had longed to meet Naruto again.
And choosing Kumogakure over Konoha, even if it was for everyone's sake, meant that Naruto would never exist. In a broad sense of the word, she was ending a life before it even began – a life that meant to her more than any other – that of her own son.
And this was a thought so unbearable that she might have recoiled physically if she had allowed herself to sink in it.
He's alive. Somewhere, far away, in another world, he is alive and well and happy, were the thoughts that she kept chanting inwardly, like a mantra to cling to, because she knew that if she hadn't already convinced herself that Naruto existed elsewhere, she would never be able to do what she must.
He would be exactly four years, eight months and seventeen days old by now. He would probably be a little ball of energy, running around whole day and talking in that adorable manner that toddlers had, tasting new words and learning about the world as he met everything around him for the first time. She hoped to God he didn't have her horrible verbal tic.
Not a day passed without her thinking about him and she hadn't realised how with every passing moment she had become more and more impatient to meet him again one day and get to know him, catching up on everything she missed – every toothless smile, every laughter, his first words, his first steps, the first family photo, the first time he saw snow and the first time he learned of chakra; the first time Minato would play with him and the first time he would teach him. So many dreams, all lost.
How much she had yearned for it; how much she had expected it, to hell with greed and selfishness.
Making this choice now meant giving up on it, on everything she had hoped for and it hurt, her breath suddenly coming out ragged.
The boy in front of her had stayed quiet all along, watching the silent blossoming of emotions on her face as they twisted from incredulity, through sadness and to pain. How long had she stood there, rooted to the spot, motionless, while the torrent of thoughts and emotions swirled on the inside? It had felt like ages, when it couldn't have been more than a minute, all ideas piecing in her mind in fragments, jumping madly around, confusingly, painfully so.
Her composure was crumbling, her trembling fingers and laboured breathing giving her away, the wetness in her eyes doing her no favour either, and he had noticed.
"You realise it, don't you?" he said quietly and the unvoiced pain in that single question was the last drop in a glass filled to the brim.
The voice of the martyr.
This boy, who was no older than thirteen, had already realised what she had known all along: sometimes, to do what's right, people had to give up on what they wanted most.
AN: Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! It was quite hard to write, because I had to justify a decision-making process that I think is quite burdening. It's never easy to describe the shift of perspective of an otherwise determined and strong-willed character and I can only hope I made it somewhat believable.
I hope I don't have to dodge daggers here. There is still a chance that Minato might save her and convince her otherwise! I don't want to give anything away, however, so you are free to guess how you think the plot would progress. I am quite curious to hear your thoughts on the topic, I love hearing your ideas!
Ja ne~
