Over the past few weeks, Kushina had devoted herself to mastering the art of sensing malice. Every morning, she walked the streets of Konoha, ignoring the stares, the subtle tension, and the whispers behind her back, to train her new sensory ability. At first, the emotions she picked up were a blur, a tangled mass of unease and aversion. But now, she could parse through them with precision. She could isolate the source of a killing intent from a simple passing anxiety, could identify the sharp spike of hatred from the dull hum of irritation.
The streets of Konoha had become her classroom, and now, it was time to test this ability in combat.
Fortunately, Sakumo Hatake had returned from the front lines. Although he was her Taijutsu teacher, she rarely got the opportunity to train with him. Being a Kage-level shinobi meant that Sakumo was an invaluable asset to the war effort, often stationed at critical outposts or engaged in high-priority missions. His time in Konoha was limited.
So, when she sensed his chakra within the Hatake compound that morning, Kushina wasted no time.
She walked through the tall wooden gates of the estate and into the courtyard, greeted by the soft rustle of wind through the trees and the chirping of cicadas. Hana Hatake was sitting on the porch, her hair tied back in a loose bun, rocking little Kakashi gently in her arms. The baby's wide gray eyes blinked curiously at Kushina as she passed.
"Good morning, Kushina," Hana greeted with a warm smile.
"Morning," Kushina replied, nodding respectfully. Her gaze lingered briefly on the baby. Kakashi was quiet, unnervingly so. But well-behaved. In her opinion, too well-behaved for a baby. Then again, maybe it ran in the family.
She continued past them, into the training grounds, where Sakumo stood with his sword sheathed and his arms folded. He turned as she approached.
"Sakumo-sensei, I want to try a new form of training today," she said without preamble.
His gaze flicked down to the folded blindfold in her hand, and his brow arched. "You want to train blind? That could boost your reflexes, I guess, but I don't think it'll be more effective than our usual drills."
She shook her head. "It's not just a reflex drill. I want to rely completely on my ability to sense malice. The Nine-Tails' ability."
Sakumo's expression shifted with understanding. "Ah… I see. That makes more sense. You'll need to hone it to perfection if you want to use it mid-fight."
"That's the plan." She smiled confidently. "When I'm done training this, I'll beat you for sure, dattebane!"
He laughed. "Alright. Let's see what you've got."
Kushina stepped into the center of the training field, sliding the blindfold over her eyes and stuffing the earplugs into place. Her world became a muted void. She reached behind her and unhooked her scythe, gripping the smooth, chakra-conductive wood with both hands.
She couldn't see or hear, but she could feel it.
Sakumo was calm, as always, but beneath that calmness, there was something else. A subtle ripple of anxiety, almost imperceptible, but she could detect it now. It wasn't directed at her.
If she had to guess, it was for his wife, Hana. Despite having a newborn child, Hana was still an active jonin. The war didn't care about families.
Then it shifted.
The tension in Sakumo's chakra grew sharper. She felt the flicker of malice, the intent to attack. It was faint, far more precise and honed than most, but it was there.
She braced herself.
Suddenly, the air shifted as Sakumo lunged forward. She sensed it, his intent honed toward her neck, and raised her scythe just in time to block the strike. The wooden handle thudded against his blade, and she could feel the tremor of impact vibrate through her arms. But the weapon, forged from Hashirama Senju's Wood Release and chakra steel, held firm.
Kushina grinned under the blindfold. It worked!
She didn't counter. That wasn't the goal today. She needed to focus only on sensing, reading the direction of his malice, and responding with precision.
Another flicker of intent, his target shifted to her left side. She moved instinctively, spinning the scythe into a horizontal block, and felt the air stir as his leg swept through where her ribs had been.
The training continued like that: faint spikes of emotion, quick movements, and practiced attacks. The subtle direction of killing intent, like a map only she could read. It was actually working!
Suddenly, she felt something strange- two threads of malice at once.
'A feint,' she realized immediately.
She honed in. One thread was slightly stronger. She spun toward that direction and raised her weapon-
Swoosh. The blade passed within inches of her cheek. She grinned again.
They trained like that for hours. Sakumo never struck with full strength, of course, but his movements were still fast and refined. Eventually, he swept her legs out from under her and pinned her before she could recover.
She lay on the ground for a moment, breathing heavily, then sat up and yanked the blindfold off. Sunlight stabbed into her eyes, and the chirping of insects flooded her ears. It was disorienting and a little dizzying, but she smiled.
"Sakumo-sensei, I can keep going, dattebane!" she said, brushing dust from her cloak.
He chuckled. "Kushina, I have a wife and a son. I can't spend all day letting you beat up my sword with your stick."
She pouted, standing and dusting herself off. "Fine. But next time I'm not going easy on you."
He gave her a knowing look. "Neither was I."
She smirked and tilted her head. "How's Kakashi doing?"
"He's alright. Very healthy, and I can already see his intelligence."
Then his gaze drifted upward, toward the sky, as if seeing something beyond the clouds. "I think he'll be a great ninja one day."
----
Kushina practically skipped through the seal space, her steps light and full of triumph. The place was still and dim, with its eerie lighting casting long shadows against the walls. In the center of it all, Kurama sat in his shrunken Tailed Beast form, still the size of a small building, but relaxed, lounging like a lion in his den.
His massive ears twitched at her approach.
"What is it now, brat?" he rumbled, eyes cracking open to reveal blood red.
She beamed. "I can use your ability in combat now, dattebane!"
Kurama raised an eyebrow, or at least the fox equivalent. "Is that so?"
"Yup! I trained with Sakumo-sensei while blindfolded today. I blocked every attack with just your malice-sensing!"
"Hmph. Not bad." His massive paw curled under his chin as he observed her more closely. "I guess your talent isn't completely terrible."
Kushina's cheeks tinged pink. She looked away with a shrug that tried too hard to seem nonchalant. "Thanks."
Kurama didn't say anything else right away. He simply looked at her, eyes narrowing slightly. Then he closed them again and let out a low rumble from his throat.
"You'll still need to refine it," he said. "Malice isn't always obvious. The clever ones know how to mask it. Some of them even think they're doing good when they strike."
"I'll figure it out," she said firmly. "I've made it this far."
The fox smirked. "Then let's make you stronger, brat. If you want to surpass him, you'll need to go further."
She nodded and gripped her scythe. "Let's begin, then."
Kushina adjusted her grip on the scythe as she stepped closer to Kurama's massive frame. Even at a reduced size, the Nine-Tails exuded a presence that made the air feel heavier, the space feel smaller. The crimson glow of the seal space reflected off her blade, casting warped shadows on the stone floor.
Kurama opened one eye lazily, his tails flicking behind him with a slow, measured rhythm. "You want to train here now, too?" he asked, voice gruff but not unfriendly.
"I figured I'd get a more honest fight from you," she said, smiling tightly. "No pulled punches."
Kurama chuckled, a low rumble like thunder rolling deep beneath the earth. "You're getting greedy. You just learned to crawl, and now you want to sprint."
She tightened her grip on the scythe. "I need to keep moving forward, to accomplish our goals."
Kurama studied her face for a moment, then lifted his paw and flicked a claw-sized ember toward the far end of the chamber. A pulse of chakra erupted from it, reshaping the landscape around them. The stone ground cracked and split. Jagged formations rose from the earth like the ribs of some long-dead titan, creating an arena of uneven terrain.
"Fine," he said. "Let's see if you can fight while reading my malice."
Kushina swallowed hard. Sparring with Sakumo was one thing. He was restrained, measured. Kurama, even when training, was like an overwhelming storm of hatred.
She stepped forward onto the rocky field, her bare feet brushing against the cool stone. Her heartbeat quickened, not from fear, but from anticipation.
"I'll come at you with pure intent," Kurama warned. "No mind games or tricks, just my pure malice. Cultivated for over a thousand years."
Kushina nodded and slipped the blindfold back on.
She forced her breathing to slow, her shoulders to relax and her senses strained.
And then-
Boom.
A pulse of pure bloodlust surged through the air, more massive than anything she had ever felt before. Kurama wasn't hiding it, or holding back. It crashed against her like a tidal wave, and for a moment, her knees buckled. Her face paled, and her breathing quickened.
This wasn't Sakumo's pinpoint malice, honed like a fine blade. This was the fury of the strongest Tailed Beast- ancient and immense.
Kushina gritted her teeth, steadied her stance, and felt it. The malice surged forward, fast, low, and heavy, aimed at her torso. She twisted and leapt backward, hearing the rush of displaced air as a claw tore through the space where she'd stood.
Another wave. This one curling from above, she raised her scythe and blocked, barely in time. The impact rattled her bones, the scythe humming with tension.
She didn't speak. Neither did Kurama. Their language was the rhythm of motion and emotion.
Strike. Malice. Dodge. Surge. Malice. Parry.
Again and again, she read his intention through the flood of emotion. His malice had flavor: some blows were sharp and angry, others cunning and sudden. She began to notice the difference between fury and sadistic glee, between warning and actual intent to maim.
Kurama's claws whistled through the air, and Kushina ducked low, rolling behind stone debris. The malice dipped for a moment, then flared on her left.
She spun and struck, swinging the scythe in a wide arc. The blade didn't touch him, but it sliced the air where he had been. Kurama's laughter reverberated through the space, shaking her bones.
"You're starting to anticipate me."
"Dattebane! It's not that hard," she said through heavy breaths.
Kurama paused. For a moment, she felt his malice lessen. Then it shifted- it's testing now.
"You're syncing with me, almost like a partner," he said.
Kushina didn't answer. The word hit something deep in her chest, a quiet ache she didn't want to look at too closely.
Partner.
What did that mean for a Jinchūriki and her Tailed Beast?
Kurama surged again, forcing her to move. His movements grew faster, more erratic- less about force and more about deception. He feinted high, then came low. He masked his killing intent behind a surge of anger, and she faltered, taking a shallow cut across her arm.
She hissed, but didn't stop. She strained her senses even further. She had to keep up.
Another surge, he aimed low, but the real strike came from his tail arcing around from the side.
She jumped.
The tail whipped under her, missing by inches.
They clashed again and again, stone cracking beneath their feet, air splitting with every strike.
And finally,
She landed a hit.
A light tap against his shoulder with the flat of her blade. The impact made Kurama pause mid-strike.
"Well, brat," he said, grinning with far too many teeth. "You actually touched me." He was barely trying throughout this whole battle, but it was still impressive.
Kushina lowered her scythe slightly and panted, sweat dripping down her face under the blindfold. "I told you… I'm getting stronger."
Kurama's voice was quieter when he spoke again. "You're not just stronger, you're growing."
She hesitated. "Growing how?"
"You're not afraid of my malice anymore."
Kushina pulled off the blindfold. Her vision blurred for a moment, but then adjusted. She looked up at Kurama, who was watching her with those burning red eyes, not hostile, not smug, but curious.
"I was never afraid of you," she said. "I was afraid of what you meant."
Kurama tilted his head slightly, foxlike. "And now?"
"Now…" she exhaled, "…I think you're the only one who really sees me."
Then Kurama huffed, a low sound almost like a sigh. "Tch. You're getting sappy, brat."
She smiled. "Too bad. You're stuck with me."
He snorted, but didn't argue.
She sheathed her scythe and sat cross-legged on the cracked stone, staring up at him. "You know, when I first got here, I wanted to destroy this seal. I hated you. Hated that they put you in me like I was a tool."
Kurama gave no response, only watched her quietly.
"But now…" she hesitated, "I'm not saying I forgive them. Or that I've accepted being a Jinchūriki. But I don't hate you anymore."
That caught his attention. His massive head lowered slightly, ears twitching.
"I didn't ask for you to like me," he said.
"I respect you."
A long pause.
Then Kurama chuckled. "You're more Uzumaki than I thought."
She raised an eyebrow. "Was that… a compliment?"
"Don't push it."
They both laughed, hers bright and unfiltered, his deep and thunderous.
And for a moment, in the middle of the seal that had once felt like a prison, there was peace.