Konoha's mornings were never truly quiet—not with construction cranes clanking, vendors shouting, and genin racing rooftops with no regard for tiles.
But this morning was different.
The air was sharp.
Tense.
As if the village itself was holding its breath.
Arashi felt it as soon as he stepped onto the street. The guards at the main gate stood straighter. The ANBU on patrol doubled back more often than usual. Even the market chatter was laced with murmurs:
"Did you hear? Another operative—missing."
"White Fang's son again?"
"No name. No blood. Just a note: 'Too late.'"
Root was bleeding.
And everyone knew who held the blade.
But the war was about to reach a front Arashi had avoided until now.
The Uzumaki.
Specifically: Kushina.
The message came at sunset. Not from a crow, but from a civilian runner—a bakery apprentice with trembling hands and a scroll tucked under his sleeve.
Arashi unrolled it on the rooftop without ceremony.
The handwriting was rushed, but unmistakable:
"Hospital. East Wing. Tonight. Quietly. —M"
Only one man would sign with just an M and still make Arashi run.
Minato Namikaze.
—
The hospital's east wing was being renovated—empty corridors, dim lighting, occasional flicker from faulty ceiling fans.
Arashi stepped inside through the side entrance, past a janitor who didn't look up.
Minato was waiting in the last room—arms crossed, eyes grim.
And next to him, seated on the bed, her red hair tied in a messy bun, was Kushina Uzumaki.
Her eyes narrowed the moment she saw Arashi.
"So this is the ghost-boy everyone's whispering about," she said. "You don't look like much."
Arashi didn't flinch. "Neither did the men I buried."
Kushina snorted. "Fair."
Minato gestured for them to sit. "We don't have long."
Kushina placed a hand over her stomach.
That's when Arashi understood.
Not just a secret.
A secret pregnancy.
"She's in her second trimester," Minato said. "We've kept it hidden. Only two people outside the clan know."
"Make that three," Kushina said dryly. "Unless Root already knows. Then it's fifty."
Arashi's gaze sharpened. "They attacked you?"
"Not directly," Minato answered. "But Kushina's been followed. And yesterday, someone broke into the sealing archive."
"They were looking for jinchuriki containment scrolls," Kushina said.
"More specifically," Minato added, "they were looking for transfer seals."
Arashi stiffened.
They weren't trying to kill her.
They were preparing to extract.
Possibly while the child was still in the womb.
"Root's experimenting with sealing hybrids," Arashi muttered. "I thought it was rumor."
"It's not," Minato said. "They want to see what happens when you imprint a chakra beast's energy before birth."
Kushina's hand tightened.
"And we're not letting that happen."
Silence hung.
Then Arashi nodded once.
"I'll clean the watchers."
"Already started," Minato said. "But we need help inside."
Arashi tilted his head. "Meaning?"
"Someone's been leaking chakra fluctuation reports from Kushina's medical logs. There's a traitor in the hospital staff."
Kushina looked him dead in the eye.
"You find them, Hatake. And I'll make sure they don't die clean."
By morning, one medic was missing from his station.
No body. No blood.
Just a seal on the door.
A warning.
And the message it burned into the floor:
"Uzumaki protected. Try again."
Root didn't try again.
Not yet.
But now Arashi had earned something rare.
A promise.
Kushina wasn't just a jinchuriki.
She was an Uzumaki—and they never forgot debts.