Inside the seal space, Kurama, currently in his human form, and Kushina Uzumaki were locked in intense sparring, their movements a blur of speed and precision.
The once oppressive space around them, a dark and dreary dungeon, had become their training ground. It wasn't much, and there was no equipment, but it was enough for their purposes.
Kushina ducked under a feint and twisted to deliver a spinning back kick at Kurama's ribs. Her form was raw, driven more by instinct than technique, but there was a fire in her that gave every move weight. With her natural Uzumaki vitality, the Nine-Tails' chakra strengthening her passively, and years of taijutsu drills, she could already go toe-to-toe with most chunin in hand-to-hand combat.
But Kurama was a Tailed Beast. Even in his human form, he possessed immense speed and strength.
He leaned back, allowing her kick to fly past his chest with only a few strands of his long, flame-colored hair catching the air.
Kushina didn't let up. She followed the momentum of her failed kick and aimed a tight right hook at his chest, but Kurama pivoted on his heel and swept her legs out from under her.
"Ugh!" she yelped as her back hit the cold stone floor with a loud thud. Her red hair fanned out beneath her like a halo of wildfire.
Kurama extended a hand, his expression unreadable but his eyes faintly amused. "That's enough for today, brat."
Kushina slapped her palm into his and let him haul her upright. She rubbed her sore butt with a grimace. "I can keep going!"
Kurama raised a brow. His fox-like ears flicked slightly. "I know. But we're not just training to make you good at punching things. It's time to move on to ninjutsu."
At those words, a flicker of unease crossed her face. Kurama noticed.
He sighed and folded his arms. His exposed chest rose and fell slowly, the open white blouse of chakra he wore fluttering with his movement. "You've been avoiding it all day."
"I haven't-!"
"You have," he said flatly.
Kushina deflated a little and looked away. "It's just… I've always sucked at ninjutsu. I couldn't even make a proper clone before." Her voice was small. It was rare to see her without that usual fierce edge.
Kurama watched her for a moment in silence. He wasn't used to this either. The way her bravado peeled back to show this soft, bruised core she so carefully protected. He might have been around for nearly a thousand years, but he was always above humanity, not interacting with them like this.
"Come here. We'll do it together."
Kushina hesitated, but walked over. Kurama guided her through the hand signs slowly.
Tiger → Boar → Ox → Dog.
She inhaled deeply and focused.
'Clone Jutsu!'
Poof!
The puff of smoke cleared, and in front of them stood… a clone! It was off-color, oddly shaped, and slightly lopsided, but it was there!
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "I did it…"
Kurama smirked, even as he kept his arms folded. The portion of his chakra inside her had been quietly smoothed and tamed, no longer a maelstrom she had to wrestle into obedience. With his influence, it flowed cleaner and calmer, enough for her to form a jutsu.
"I did it!" she shouted, voice rising in joy. She leapt up and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.
Kurama went stiff. Her warmth, the way her hair smelled faintly of rain and smoke, the fact that she trusted him enough to let her guard down like this, he didn't know what to do with that. His hands hovered uncertainly before settling on her back in a clumsy pat.
"Alright, alright. Don't get ahead of yourself," he said, though his voice had lost its usual rough edge.
She pulled away, beaming up at him. Her cheeks were flushed, and a little sheen of sweat clung to her brow. "You don't get it. That's the first time I ever made one that actually looked like a person!"
Kurama exhaled, trying not to look too pleased. "The Clone Jutsu's nothing special. You just needed to get past your block. But now…" He stepped back and crossed his arms again, resuming the role of gruff teacher. "The real ninjutsu training begins. Let's try the Multi-Shadow Clone Jutsu."
Her brows shot up. "Wait, that's a forbidden jutsu, right?"
He nodded. "Yes. But it's one that suits you. Most ninja can't use it without dying, but your chakra reserves are absurdly high. The real danger for you is control, not capacity."
Kushina furrowed her brow as he slowly demonstrated the hand signs, explaining the pattern and flow of chakra in careful detail.
When he finished, he performed the jutsu, but nothing happened.
Kushina blinked. "Uh…"
Kurama looked annoyed. "Don't look at me like that. I don't have a functioning chakra network in this form. I can't use Jutsu yet."
"You're teaching me a jutsu you can't even use?"
Kurama gave her a flat stare. "Do you want to learn it or not?"
Kushina laughed despite herself and nodded. "Fine, fine."
She mirrored the hand signs.
'Shadow Clone Jutsu!'
Poof!
The stone space was suddenly crowded with dozens, hundreds of Kushinas.
She gasped. "Whoa!" She turned around in a circle, staring at her clones with awe. "This is so cool! With this many clones, I could take on that old man, dattebane!"
Kurama raised a brow. He walked up to one of the clones and poked it.
Poof!
It vanished immediately.
"Your chakra distribution is still all over the place. Some of them barely exist, and others are overloaded. One tap and they're gone."
Kushina groaned and scratched her head. "Dammit… I thought I had it."
"You do have it. Just not mastered. And it's already enough to speed up your training."
She sighed and dismissed the remaining clones. Her body sagged slightly, worn from the effort.
Kurama tilted his head, observing her. "Even that much is good for now. Once you can consistently create ten proper clones, we'll begin chakra control."
Kushina frowned. "You mean like leaf balancing?"
He nodded. "Among other things. Tree walking, water walking, and I have another technique most people have forgotten about."
She groaned. "That stuff is boring."
"It's essential for you."
"Ugh... fine."
There was a pause. Kushina sat down and leaned against the massive stone wall, her arms draped over her knees.
Kurama sat beside her, his long tails swaying slowly. "You did well today."
"…Thanks." She rested her head against his shoulder without warning, using his tails as a cushion.
He tensed, then slowly relaxed. Her breathing was steady, and he could feel the pulse of her chakra brushing against his own.
"I never thought I'd enjoy training like this," she said quietly. "Not just because I'm getting stronger, but because… it feels like someone's with me, for once."
Kurama didn't answer right away. For hundreds of years, he'd been alone, misunderstood, or hated. It was a novel experience to have someone trust him and interact with him like this.
"You're not alone anymore," he said at last.
She smiled and closed her eyes. "I know."
Kushina exhaled slowly, letting herself rest on Kurama and his tails. Her muscles trembled from the strain, but her heart thudded with something she hadn't felt in a long time: triumph.
For years, she'd struggled in the academy. She was told she was too loud, too brash. The kids made fun of her hair and her lack of talent in ninjutsu. Even surrounded by all those people, she was completely alone.
Kurama didn't speak. He sat near her, legs crossed, tails curled neatly beside him. His crimson eyes were contemplative.
"…You're not so bad at this teaching thing," Kushina said quietly, her gaze on the ceiling of the seal space, where countless cracks spiderwebbed like veins through the stone sky. "You act all grumpy and mean, but you explain stuff better than any of my teachers ever did."
"Hn."
"Seriously," she added. "If I had you around in class, I might actually pass some of my exams."
Kurama snorted. "You'd still punch your classmates."
She smirked. "Only the ones who deserve it."
The silence that followed was peaceful and comfortable. Something Kurama never thought he'd feel inside this accursed cage.
"…I don't hate it in here," she murmured after a while. "When it's just us."
Kurama tilted his head. "It'll be much better when we're both outside. Then we can have real freedom."
"We'll rebuild the Uzumaki clan stronger than ever," he said, 'and destroy Konoha.' he swore silently, in his heart.
"I'm glad you're here, Kurama," she said. "I don't care what that old man or those stupid villagers think."
He looked at her, surprised by the warmth in her tone. By the sincerity. Humans were always so fickle. So quick to twist affection into betrayal, or anger into love. Even though he's been burned many times by their mercurial nature, he believes this time is different.
"…Don't get sappy," he muttered.
"Too late." She sat up and hugged him again, tightly, with no hesitation. Kurama didn't resist it. He rested his chin on her shoulder and let the silence stretch.
In this stone-walled cage the village had forced upon them, they were jailor and prisoner no longer.