Chapter 2: Chapter no.2 Uzushiogakure: The Hidden Eddy Village
The throbbing of my head is unrelenting. Stumbling a little, I groan and bring my fingers to my temples in an attempt to massage away the incessant pounding, but it is a meaningless effort; the migraine persists. The past three days' gnawing worry finally begins to morph into a more visceral anxiety, and I am just a moment away from full-blown panic when I finally trip on a root and crash face-first into a thorny yuzu plant.
The cuts are shallow, but they sting like all hell. I jerk backwards and the barbs dig into my skin again. By the time I have extracted myself I am covered front and back with lacerations, leaking small beads of blood all over. My kerchief meets its end within the shrub's jagged womb, tearing nearly in two across the side.
For a moment, I can only sit there in speechless astonishment. Then I think, I'm going to die out here.
Dehydration. Infection. Starvation. Malaria. All four options seem to be becoming more and more likely. There is nothing out here; there is not even the slightest trace of civilization. I am no master of orienteering, but after three days of circling the X marked on Kenma's map even I can say that there is no Uzushio here. My head fills with dark doubts, with thoughts like he was lying, he was tricking us, he was making it up to make us feel better—and I spend a long moment sitting there, not quite ready to admit defeat.
Oh, who am I kidding? Uzushio is a Hidden Village. How can a child like me expect to just waltz in? A child with no training at that. Was there even any hope for me here in the first place?
I feel two years of wasted time weighing down on my shoulders then, and when I get up and start walking again, I can only describe the sensation I feel as heartbreak. Was it wrong of me to hope for Uzushio? To hope for a better life there? Is there no choice for me now but to return to the Whirlpool below and live out the rest of my life in squalor and fear, always hiding who I am and running from the world?
I don't want to. I don't want to live like that anymore, without freedom or choices. I can't even take the easy way out like the other kids do sometimes—and I have seen many an Uzumaki child choose to throw herself into the sea over living the lives we live now—because never, not ever, will I be able to kill myself.
I cannot quit, but right now, I do not want to keep going.
The tears are not long in coming. I grit my teeth and hold my breath, squinting hard to keep them from falling. The bleeding is bad enough; I can't afford to lose any more water than I already have.
I spend four more days in the wilderness.
I am dazedly rolled over in the dirt when they find me. When I'd first laid down here under the tree, I'd promised myself I would only rest for a moment, but that moment had turned into an hour and that hour had become a day. At that point it occurred to me that I might have never had a choice to keep on living in the first place; it is very likely that I am going to die here no matter what protests or regrets I might have.
But then someone is pulling me up. Two fingers are on my neck, searching for a pulse as I limply let my head hang, too tired to even open my eyes. A moment passes in silence. Then a voice exclaims, "Hisateru, she's alive!"
There is a tiny rush of wind that carries the sound of almost-silent footsteps. A hand smooths my bangs back in a startlingly parental gesture, and then I find myself being scooped up in a pair of arms.
Through willpower alone I pry open my eyes. The blurry image of a middle-aged black-haired man meets my gaze. His hold is firm and fatherly, prompting in me the thought that he has carried children before. I lift my head sluggishly.
"Where's the rest?" the other man asks hurriedly. "She can't have come on her own."
"Can you tell me where your group went, kiddo?" the man holding me queries urgently. "Where the other children are?"
Other children? I furrow my brow and try to reply, but my throat is parched and all that comes out is a feeble, croaking cough. My pounding head begins pounding harder.
"Shouyo, you finish the patrol route," the man called Hisateru says, hurriedly turning around. "See if you can find them. I'm taking her back."
"On it," Shouyo replies. I watch the two men clap each other on the shoulder before letting my head drop again, feeling like total utter shit. Hisateru puts a hand on my forehead once more, murmuring something incomprehensible but oddly soothing, before taking off over the grass. It is a disorienting experience; he runs faster than anything I have ever experienced in my life.
At that point I must have been drifting in and out of consciousness, because the next thing I know I am being fussed over by a whole crowd of people. Someone is wiping my cuts with a damp cloth; another is checking my pulse; another is squabbling with the others about getting out of the way so she can start an IV.
I find myself searching for Hisateru, blearily looking this way and that. After a moment I catch sight of him off in a corner, talking lowly to two women. It is somewhat mystifying to see a black-haired man talking to two redheads so openly; it has been years since I have seen such a thing. People almost always avoid speaking to redhaired people in public if they can help it. Even if they aren't hatemongers and they don't agree with the discrimination, the risk of being labeled as a sympathizer is too great.
"You're up, sweetie?" one of the ladies fussing with some bandages asks when she catches sight of my open eyes. "You've done a great job. I'm so glad you made it to us. You're such a good girl."
Her praises jangle about in my head for several seconds before I make out their meaning. The skylights above her bathe her in evening light, and I can only stare dumbly at the sight of a clean, well-dressed Uzumaki woman with a warm smile on her lips. Behind her, gigantic high-rise buildings dominate the view. They obscure the sun, but the skyline sits framed in a corona of its reddish golden light.
Then, feeling a pinch of alarm, I slowly turn my gaze around the room.
"There's this place called the River House. It used to be the old village hall, but now it's where all the kid refugees stay before a family takes them in," Kenma says. He makes circling gesture over his head. "They have windows in the ceiling there. It's really crowded, but the view is great; you can see the whole trade district when you look up."
The River House. A crowded, lively building filled with child refugees. A temporary gathering place for them to stay while a permanent residence with an adoptive family is arranged. This is that place; I know it.
But the beds are all empty.
"She's stable now, but she isn't talking much. She's very unsettled," Minami tells the man just outside the door. I roll onto my side and peer over the top of my pillow. "It might just be the new environment, but..."
"But can we move her?" the man asks. After a moment, I decide it is Hisateru and not Shouyo; Shouyo would have just burst in and done whatever it is he wanted to do.
"At this point it all depends on her," Minami replies. "In these kinds of cases it's often the temperament of the patient that determines the speed of the recovery. Children in the past have both been helped and hurt when we moved them quickly."
"I see…" A moment of silence. "May I go in?"
Yes… definitely not Shouyo.
The door slides open and Hisateru is admitted to the room. He smiles when he sees me gazing at him from behind my pillow.
"Hello," he says to me, dragging an empty chair forward as he approaches.
"Hello," I reply, twisting my fingers together.
"How are you today?" He sits down and crosses his legs. The skin around his eyes is somewhat creased and very faintly wrinkled.
"I don't feel like throwing up anymore," I say after a while. "...Are you going to take me somewhere?"
It's been about two days. Contrary to what Minami thinks, I am not being driven mute by the shock of a new environment. It is just that a few things here have managed to catch me by surprise. Though given that hot tea and comforters were chief among them, perhaps it's not surprising that she thinks I'm having trouble adjusting...
"Ah, so you were listening." Hisateru leans forward and laces his fingers together. "Let me ask this first, though. Would you like to leave? Or would you prefer to stay here longer?"
I pull myself into sitting position. Then I look around me, taking in once again how empty the River House is.
"I guess it depends on where you would take me," I tell him after a moment, looking away from the beds and back to him. I would not like to stay here long, that is for sure. But two years alone in a civil war has taught me that it is far too easy to jump into a fire to get out of a frying pan. These days I find I go nowhere in a hurry unless my life is in immediate danger.
"I would take you to my house," Hisateru replies, "to stay with my family. With my wife and my son."
I cannot help it; my eyebrows fly up. Stay with Hisateru? Granted, I had figured he had a family of his own just by the fact he was so comfortable with handling kids, but the offer is still quite shocking. It is one thing to rescue a child. It is one thing to treat that child kindly and politely. It is something else entirely to take her into one's own home.
"Why?" I ask dumbly. It is a flummoxing suggestion.
"Well, as you can see, no one else is here," Hisateru begins, shifting a bit. "We had thought you had come with others and that Shouyo would find the rest of them, so we reopened the whole of the River House expecting to get a crowd of kids. But as it turns out you came on your own, and you're in here all alone… there's no need to keep the whole place open if someone is willing to house you." He shrugs. "Well, I said I was willing. Haruna was ready to take in a kid a year ago, back when they were still coming, and Hisao won't mind."
A year ago… I dart a glance at the bed next to me. A year ago, apparently, this would have been the River House Kenma described to me. What has happened since then to change that? What is something that would stop children from coming to Uzushio?
"How old is Hisao?" I ask after I realize I have been drifting from the conversation for too long. I mentally shake my head and resolve to investigate later.
"Exactly your age, if you would believe it," Hisateru replies, smiling a bit. "You're eight, right?"
"How did you know?" I ask, surprised again. I don't recall having disclosed my exact age in years to anyone here at all.
"Ah…" Suddenly, Hisateru becomes hesitant. I immediately give him my most suspicious look, and the silence stretches from alarmed to awkward. Several seconds pass.
"Well—" Hisateru coughs.
"Fukuzawa-senpai!" Minami suddenly exclaims, sliding the door open. "You've been summoned to the eastern outpost! Something's going on."
Hisateru is on his feet in a heartbeat, looking utterly relieved. I look at him incredulously, not quite believing he would jump and bail so gracelessly.
"We'll talk again when I get back, Yuzuki-chan," he says over his shoulder as he hastens to the door. Apparently, he would; he's out in a second flat.
"Bye," I say into the following silence, just a little flatly. I drop my pillow on the mattress; it flattens with a quiet thwomp.
Another two days pass before Hisateru comes back again, by which time I am itching to leave. I no longer have any reservations. He is obviously hiding something, but as far as I'm concerned he's a nice man and if he wants to try something he will do it here just as easily as anywhere else. I actually went as far as asking Minami to tell him I wanted to see him, so desperate I was to get out.
Hisateru seemed to have gotten the message, though, because when he reappears he does so in the company of a short, sturdy-looking redheaded woman who is carrying a rather enormous box.
"My wife," he supplies when I raise my eyebrows in surprise.
"Fukuzawa Haruna!" she exclaims cheerfully. "You're coming to stay with us, right? I brought you some clothes."
I look at the box. It's probably as wide as I am tall, and just as deep.
"That's a lot of clothes…"
"Right?" Hisateru snorts. He looks to Haruna. "See, I told you you could just wait til we got back."
"Nuh-uh," Haruna disagrees, chin jutting mulishly. "Look at her, she's wearing rags! And you said she came here barefoot. Of course I had to bring her clothes. It's not my fault that footwear is bulky."
"You could have just brought one outfit for her to wear," Hisateru says exasperatedly. "Then if she didn't like it she could have picked out something else at home."
"There wouldn't be any need to argue if you had just let me use the sealing scrolls," Haruna replies crossly. "You think I'm carrying this ginormous thing because I want to?"
"If I had let you use the sealing scrolls, you would have unloaded an entire department store in here," Hisateru points out wryly. "But enough of that. Yuzuki-chan will think we're morons."
"No, I won't," I immediately deny. I twiddle my thumbs a bit before giving in and cracking a smile. "I think it's cute."
Haruna immediately beams; Hisateru groans. "Just let her pick the clothes so we can go," he grumbles. "If we stay here any longer, Minami isn't going to let me hear the end of it…"
Haruna does not need to be told twice. She immediately hurries forward and throws the box down at the foot of the bed. I bounce a bit as the mattress bucks.
"Come here, come here," she says, waving her hand at me. I scootch over from the head of the bed as she begins pulling out shorts and shirts and skirts and blouses and dresses.
Wow. That is a lot of clothes. I curiously begin picking things up, holding them out and rubbing their fabric between my fingers.
"Mom used to make me stuff like this," I exclaim delightedly when I come across a yukata-styled blouse with ribbons threaded through the sleeves. Now that I think about it, hadn't Kushina worn clothes similar to these as a child? I suppose it is fairly common fashion for young girls in Whirlpool. Yayoi had loved to sit and spend an evening sewing clothes like these for me.
I find myself smiling a bit at the thought of my mother.
"Is there a bottom that goes with this?" I ask, setting the blouse down and rummaging through the rest of the box. Then I stop and wonder if I'm not being a bit too shameless. Most other people would be a bit more bashful about being offered an entire box of clothes, right? I look up, but both Haruna and Hisateru seem entirely unoffended.
I consider it for a moment longer before I shrug and forge on. Up until now the only other way kids like me had to get clothes as nice as these was to steal them off of someone else's back. Or to pull them off of dead bodies. In fact, now that I think about it, Sayaka had gotten her dress from the same mass grave she'd taken the hitai-ate from, hadn't she?
Once a skirt and a pair of modesty shorts have been located, Hisateru is shooed from the room and is only invited back in after I have changed and been charged with contemplating the pile of shoes. There is a pair of the standard clunky ninja sandals, some surprisingly modern-looking sneakers, zouri, geta…
After spending the better part of a year with bare feet on the ground—I'd lost my too-small shoes in Ajisai, well before I had managed to get around the mountains—I can safely say that closed-toed shoes are the most uncomfortable thing ever. The zouri are the closest things here to flip flops, so it doesn't take much more time to figure out what the next course of action is. I stand up, dropping down from the bed, and slip my new sandals on.
"Cute," Hisateru notes, tone carrying just enough surprise for me to know that his compliment is genuine. I wonder if I ought to find that offensive, but honestly, I know that I haven't looked anything but shitty for several years now. Sweating to death in the Yuzu Foothills had probably not done much to help that impression, either.
"All you need now is a haircut," Haruna muses, gazing contemplatively at the jagged, asymmetrical ends of my cut-with-a-rusty-kunai hair. "But we'll deal with that another time. Why don't we get going? Hisao's waiting at home."
We shove everything back into the box, struggle to fit its plastic lid on, and leave. I wave to Minami on the way out, who manages to simultaneously smile at me while smirking at Hisateru. Hisateru pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a long sigh.
The River House is built right at the water's edge, so we go up the embankment using a set of cracked stone stairs. The climb puts us level with the rest of the village, which is really more accurately described as a city. Straight ahead of me is a cluster of tower blocks, rising into the sky like square-topped mountains. I take a moment to stare thoughtfully. I have not seen such a crowded skyline in years; no place in Whirlpool could boast of buildings like these.
"That way's the clan residential district," Hisateru says, lifting an arm and pointing west. There, an enormous bridge is rising out of the river. It is a megalith carved into a curved sliver, held up by cylinders made of stone; torii gate it at either end, each bearing the mon of Uzushiogakure at its center. Beyond the bridge, black-tiled roofs stand, made with shingles that are curved and shiny.
It takes several minutes to traverse the trade district, and almost half as many to cross the bridge itself. Everything is, for lack of a better word, humongous. Such a place could only be a village in name.
"Uzushio is easily the largest settlement in all of Whirlpool," Hisateru says thoughtfully, seeming to catch my thoughts. "Our population isn't as big as our friends of Konoha's is, but it's sizable nonetheless."
"That's not unexpected at all," Haruna snorts. "You'll soon learn that Uzumakis breed like bunnies. For us, filling a town or two is no great task."
Curiosity piqued, I look up at her thoughtfully. "Is Hisao your only son?" I ask. Hisateru makes a sound like he's choking on his spit, and Haruna immediately throws her head back and roars with laughter.
"He is," she answers, waggling her eyebrows at Hisateru. Hisateru looks like he wants to crawl into a hole and die, and I sense an embarrassing story in my near future. "Hisao's an only child, so he's a bit of an exception. I, on the other hand, have seven siblings, and six of those seven have four kids apiece so far. Nonoka, the seventh, has five."
Six times four plus five… adding in Haruna and Hisao, that's thirty-one Uzumakis, ignoring parents, cousins, aunts, uncles, and spouses. If that is the norm for people around here, it would indeed be very easy to fill a town or five with Uzumakis alone. Considering that this is the Village of Longevity, too, the elderly must also last quite a while.
I spend the rest of the walk in silence, contemplating the fact that there is actually a political faction in existence right now, tearing apart the country, that is calls for the total destruction of all these people. Forget Uzushio; the Uzumaki are all over. They were the settlers of this country. How many people here in Whirlpool could claim they were completely free of this clan's bloodline? I have been living under the shadow of the revolutionary faction for over half of my life, but just then I realize, for the first time, how utterly insane their manifesto is.
If halfas like me and Sayaka are Uzumaki enough to kill, they will run out of people to do the killing before long.
Fukuzawa Hisao is not redhaired, but he is undeniably an Uzumaki; his face is made of the same blunt angles and edges that my friends' faces were. Despite having grown up here in the safety of Uzushio, he does not look sheltered, or delicate, or squishy. He has the toughened, scratched-up, slightly bruised appearance of a shinobi in training. It is easy to imagine him fitting in among the ranks of the street-urchin Uzumaki I had lived so long with. He carries himself with an air of supreme common sense, and both his clothes and his demeanor are terribly pragmatic—yes, many of my friends had looked like this boy. But despite that, he is different. His gaze is straightforward. His stare sees the present.
This, the thought strikes me, is what young people should look like. Young people should have gazes that turn forward. Instead of watching the horizon, replaying distant pasts or dreaming far-off futures, they should be staring straight at the present moment.
"Fukuzawa Hisao," he introduces himself, matter-of-fact, as he sticks out a hand. "Hisao's fine," he adds, gray eyes shining curiously. Despite this, though, I get the sense that he is trying to act aloof. Not to seem cool, but because prodding would be uncomfortable.
What a considerate boy. I find myself shooting Haruna and Hisateru an approving look, which makes Hisateru smile and Haruna stifle a small chortle.
"Fujioka Yuzuki," I reply, taking Hisao's hand. "Yuzuki is fine for me, too."
....
Several years have passed, and now at the age of sixteen, I find myself patrolling the city as a shinobi, keenly aware of the escalating political turmoil. Despite Uzushio's relative calm, whispers of conflict between Kirigakure, Kumogakure, and Iwagakure send ripples of tension throughout the region, the threat of war looming like a storm on the horizon.
However, a more pressing matter occupies my mind: the disturbing pattern of disappearances in the city, particularly amongst children and young adults. The Uzukage, rightfully concerned, had ordered heightened patrols in an attempt to curb the unnerving trend.
Hisao appears beside me in a flicker of shunshin, his eyes serious. "Did you find anything?" he asks, referring to my use of the Mind's Eye technique to detect and locate chakra signatures.
But before I can respond, a shockingly evil chakra signature erupts nearby, sending a shiver down my spine. It's so potent, so malignant, that my breath catches in my throat. "Run, Hisao!" I scream, my eyes wide with fear, but it's as if we're trapped in molasses. I can't move, can't think - I can only watch as a figure cloaked in shadows begins to approach.
The figure draws nearer, shrouded in mystery. But then a glimmer from beneath the cloak catches my attention, and I freeze as I catch sight of what lies beneath: the unmistakable glow of red Sharingan eyes.
Everything after that is a blur. The world begins to spin, the malicious chakra signature intensifying as if it's squeezing my heart. And then, the world goes black. The last image imprinted in my mind are those haunting red eyes, swirling with the promise of imminent danger.
...
I wake up in a cave, an uncomfortable chill creeping up my spine. My wrists are chafed from the chains binding me to the cold, stone walls. As my eyes adjust to the dim light, I hear Hisao's screams echoing off the cave walls, a sound that sets my blood on fire. Desperate to maintain some control, I keep my breathing steady, feigning unconsciousness.
Activating my Mind's Eye, I observe the surroundings beyond my line of sight. The cave is part of the system running beneath Uzushio. It's in our very backyard. The man cloaked in shadows is nearby, and what I perceive with my Mind's Eye paints a horrifying picture. He's injecting Hisao with something—something brimming with malicious chakra. Hisao's body is convulsing, rejecting the foreign substance. Helpless, I listen to his anguished cries, each one a stab to my heart.
The pain in Hisao's screams is unbearable, and yet, I have to remain silent, a hard task for any lover. I pray fervently that the Uzukage receives the signal from my tracker seal. The seal, hidden in the region of my abdomen, was a safeguard for young shinobi in these troubled times. Its very existence now could be our only hope.
"You can stop faking it," a voice pierces the deafening silence.
I force myself to remain calm as I find myself face-to-face with the man behind the shadowy cloak. His face is hidden behind a thick layer of genjutsu. My mind races, desperately seeking a way out of this situation.
"Hmm, I've never had a pregnant one before."
My heart sinks.
The confirmation of my pregnancy should bring joy, but the news only induces a deeper dread as I see him pull out two syringes. One is filled with a pale, white substance; the other, a dark crimson blood.
"I wonder if you will survive the essence of Yin and Yang creating the eyes of the sage," he muses, a disturbing fascination in his voice. My gaze falls upon the corpses littering the cave floor. Hisao's body, now lifeless, lies among them. Each person has a look of terror etched on their face, a final scream forever frozen. A strange purple hue tints their eyes, marking them as victims of a horrific experiment.
"Don't get distracted now," he says, a cruel smile tugging at his obscured face.
I barely have time to prepare as he plunges the syringes into my body. A surge of Yin and Yang chakra rips through my system, tearing at my very soul.
The sensation is indescribable, unlike anything I've ever felt. The foreign chakra rages within me, tearing through my body like a wildfire. It feels as if I'm being ripped apart from the inside out, each cell screaming in agony. The pain is so intense that I can barely think, let alone focus on the man studying me with such cool detachment.
I force myself to concentrate on the flow of chakra within me. It's a tempest, a whirlwind of power that threatens to overwhelm my senses. My body, however, isn't as fragile as it seems. The dense chakra of the Uzumaki bloodline pulses within me, a lifeline in this sea of chaos. It's potent, resilient, and stubborn—just like me.
I draw on this innate strength, channeling it to contain the volatile Yin and Yang chakra rampaging within me. It feels like trying to hold back a tidal wave with a piece of string. The pressure is immense. It's exhausting, physically and mentally, but I cannot afford to falter. Not now.
I concentrate on my abdomen, a source of life, a source of hope. It's where my child lies, oblivious to the turmoil unfolding within me. The struggle becomes a desperate fight to protect what is most precious to me. I can sense the foreign chakra trying to penetrate this sacred space, trying to reach my unborn child.
My baby... I can't let it reach my baby.
So I fight back. I fight back with every ounce of strength I have left. I use my chakra as a barrier, a shield, separating my child from the onslaught of volatile energy.
The man's gaze remains fixed on me, but I pay him no mind. My focus is entirely inward, on the battle raging within my own body. I have no idea how long I can keep this up, how long I can protect my child from this insidious force. But I'm determined to fight until my last breath.
No matter what happens, no matter how much pain I have to endure, I will protect my child. And with that resolve fueling me, I keep fighting, hoping, and praying for the strength to survive this ordeal.
My vision blurs as I see a steady stream of blood pouring from my eyes, my nose, my mouth. The relentless assault of the foreign chakra is tearing me apart. But I'm not ready to die. I cannot accept that. Not yet. Not when my child is still in danger.
Suddenly, the cave erupts in a shower of stone and dust. My heart soars at the familiar chakra signatures that flood into the space – it's the Uzukage and his guard.
Uzukage Nakano is an imposing figure, standing well over six feet tall. His fiery red hair, the trademark of the Uzumaki clan, seems to capture his unyielding spirit and stubborn willpower perfectly. It's wild and untamed, flowing down his back like a cascade of embers, mirroring the fierce, burning energy that radiates from him. His eyes are a sharp and piercing azure, always alert and full of a keen intelligence that has seen him through countless trials and battles.
His body, sculpted from years of grueling training and arduous combat, is a testament to his power and resilience. Despite his size, Nakano moves with an agility and grace that belies his imposing stature. His muscles, while not excessively bulky, show a lean strength that speaks of endurance and hardened stamina.
When he forms his chakra chains, the ethereal energy coils around his arms, intertwining like serpents. They glow with a soft, azure light, seeming to hum with contained power. These chains symbolize the power of the Uzumaki and their ability to bind and control.
By Nakano's side is Asami, a woman of contrasting yet complementary nature. She's not as tall as Nakano, but her presence is no less commanding. Her hair, a sleek, raven black, is tied back in a high ponytail, leaving her sharp, attentive eyes unobstructed. Those eyes, the color of onyx, are constantly vigilant, scanning her surroundings with an uncanny ability to notice even the smallest details.
Asami is quiet, her words are few, but when she does speak, it's with an authority and clarity that leaves no room for doubt. Her silence is not of the timid sort, but rather the quiet before a storm, a deadly calm that warns of the tempest within. She may not have the same brute strength as Nakano, but her finesse and precision in battle are second to none.
These two, the fiery Uzukage and his cool-headed guard, stand as the bulwarks of Uzushiogakure, their contrasting strengths creating an unbreakable defense against the enemies that threaten their home.
Their arrival forces the cloaked man to stop his sinister work on me. Nakano engages him with a furious roar, chains of chakra swirling around him like a whirlwind.
I find myself in the hands of an ANBU member, his mask etched with the image of a fox. He rushes me out of the cave, as the battle behind us rages on.
As I'm laid down outside, I feel myself slipping further and further away. My vision blurs, my consciousness wavers, but a terrifying, god-like surge of chakra in the distance tells me that the fight is far from over.
"You're dying," the ANBU tells me, his voice solemn.
"I don't want to die," I whisper, my voice a feeble echo of what it once was.
"You're pregnant," he continues, having sensed the life growing within me.
"Please save my child," I beg him. My voice is hardly a whisper now, each word a struggle.
"I can use a forbidden technique to save one," the ANBU replies.
"What forbidden technique?" I ask, my fear temporarily eclipsed by curiosity.
"Jikan Yaki no Jutsu. Time Burning Jutsu," he says. "It accelerates an individual's time and age by burning their life force into chakra. You can use it to suppress the essence of that foreign chakra and I'll seal it away using a Biju seal."
I nod, my decision made. Whatever it takes to save my child.
As the ANBU starts to perform the jutsu, my world explodes in white. I feel myself age rapidly, the foreign chakra being suppressed with each passing moment. My hands, once young and strong, shrivel and wither, my body aging decades in mere seconds. But my stomach also grows, my child growing within me at the same rapid pace.
At last, the ANBU seals away the foreign chakra with a Biju seal. I'm on the verge of death now, my body feeble and frail. The ANBU member quickly performs a C-section, and my child is born into this chaotic world.
Despite everything, I hear her cry. Through my mind's eye, I can sense the Yin and Yang chakra sealed away in her blood. My heart breaks and mends at the same time, tears streaking down my face.
"What is her name?" the ANBU member asks, cradling my newborn daughter in his arms.
"Kushina... Kushina Uzumaki," I whisper with my last breath, a smile gracing my lips as the world fades around me.
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[ Author Note ]
[ Name: Jikan Yaki no Jutsu (Time Burning Technique)
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Type: Kinjutsu (Forbidden Technique)
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Rank: S-rank
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Users: Restricted to a select few shinobi with appropriate training and chakra control. The technique is considered highly dangerous due to its significant risks.
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Range: Short
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Hand Seals:
Horse → Dog → Boar → Monkey → Ram → Horse → Snake → Dragon → Ox → Monkey → Tiger → Bird → Snake → Boar → Rat → Dog → Tiger → Boar → Rabbit → Snake → Ox → Monkey → Dragon → Boar → Ram → Horse → Bird → Monkey → Snake → Boar → Dog → Rabbit → Rat → Horse → Dragon → Tiger → Ram → Snake → Boar → Rat → Dog → Bird → Horse → Rabbit → Ox → Snake → Boar → Tiger → Bird → Monkey → Ox → Rabbit → Ram → Horse → Boar → Dragon → Tiger → Snake → Rat → Dog → Bird → Horse → Rabbit → Ox → Monkey → Dragon → Snake → Tiger → Ram → Horse → Bird → Boar → Rat → Dog → Rabbit → Ox → Monkey → Snake → Dragon → Bird → Horse → Tiger → Boar → Ram → Rat → Dog → Rabbit → Snake → Ox → Monkey → Dragon → Horse → Bird → Tiger → Ram → Snake → Boar → Rat → Dog → Horse → Bird → Ox → Monkey → Dragon → Rabbit → Tiger → Ram → Boar → Snake → Rat → Dog → Rabbit → Horse.
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Description: Jikan Yaki no Jutsu accelerates an individual's time and age by converting their life force into chakra. It is an extremely dangerous technique, often resulting in severe, irreversible damage to the user, including rapid aging and a potentially shortened lifespan.
The technique was initially developed as a tool to combat Jinchuriki. By rapidly aging a Jinchuriki, the technique disrupts the connection between the host and the Tailed Beast, weakening their combined strength and making them easier to defeat.
Jikan Yaki no Jutsu must be executed with the utmost caution. Its indiscriminate use can have devastating effects, not only for the target but also for the user. Despite its inherent risks, in the hands of a skilled shinobi, it can turn the tide of battle, particularly against formidable foes such as Jinchuriki.
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Caution: This jutsu is considered Kinjutsu due to its ability to drastically shorten the user's lifespan and can result in immediate death in some cases.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone