Inside the dreary stone prison of the seal space sat Kurama.
He was still in his human form. He had been for the past few days, trying to get used to the feeling- the weight of limbs, the limitations of flesh, the strange, almost fragile sensations of breath and heartbeat. This form had come a long way over the years, and it was more or less exactly like a normal human now.
Ever since his fight with Madara Uchiha, he had been… quieter. Reflective. For once, the ever-burning furnace of his rage had dimmed, not from exhaustion but from thought.
In his long, long life, nearly a thousand years by his count, Kurama had almost always been alone. He had lived through the rise and fall of nations, watched seas swallow coastlines and mountains collapse into valleys. Kings and warlords, saints and butchers- he had seen them all turn to dust.
The Sage of Six Paths had been there for a time, but that time was fleeting. After creating them, after speaking those grand words of unity and balance, the Sage had gone, leaving Kurama and his siblings to the mercies of the world.
Of course, the other tailed beasts were there as well, but his relationship with them had always been… strained. They were kin in origin, yes, but not in heart. Too many arguments, too many battles over ideals, too much resentment at his power and arrogance. He had not made it easy for them to like him, and he never regretted that.
He was the strongest of the Nine. That was a fact, and facts did not require humility. If his pride bruised their egos, that was their problem. The world was cruel, and only the strong dictated its rules.
Humanity, in the beginning, had been different. They revered him at first, kneeling at the edges of his forests, leaving offerings of fruit, meat, and trinkets forged from their crude metals. They called him guardian, spirit, even god. He had looked down on them as a ruler might look down on loyal subjects- distant, detached, and untouchable. They asked for protection from storms, for fertile harvests, for strength in war. He listened, sometimes. Mostly, he ignored them.
But reverence curdled quickly. Greed was a seed planted deep in humankind's heart, and it always sprouted in time. Those who had once bowed began to whisper of harnessing his power, of binding the "divine fox" for their own ambitions. They sent Shinobi to hunt him, jutsu to entrap him, weapons meant to pierce even his immortal hide.
The first time they tried chaining him, he had torn free in a storm of blood and fire that blotted out the sun. He had destroyed not only those who had dared touch him, but their families, their clans, their villages- burned every remnant of their existence to ash. The message was clear: those who sought to take from him would pay in everything they held dear.
Of course, humans were forgetful creatures. Every few generations, he had to remind them. Every century or so, the pattern repeated. And so the titles changed- guardian became demon, god became monster. Kurama, the Nine-Tailed Fox, became a thing to be feared, hunted, and hated.
And yet… it had never truly bothered him. Fear was better than false friendship. Hatred was better than dealing with their greed. He had always been on his own. That was enough.
But now… there was Kushina.
When he had first been transferred from Mito Uzumaki to the young, fiery red-haired girl, his mind had been set on a simple plan. She was young, yes, but talented and strong. He would use her as a vessel to recover his strength, mold her into a weapon he could direct, a loyal servant bound by manipulation and fear.
With her, he would weather the storms of history. Survive the machinations of Konoha, the Ghost of the Uchiha, the unpredictable might of Hashirama's legacy, the looming threat of the Ōtsutsuki. Every enemy, every scheme, every war- he would outlast them all. Because that was what beasts existed to do: survive.
Survival was his only truth.
Or so he thought.
Years passed, and with them came something he had not anticipated. Kushina's presence in the seal was… persistent. She did not cower before his size, nor did she speak to him like a weapon. She spoke to him with love and companionship. She argued with him, laughed in his presence, insulted him without fear, and, most disarming of all, trusted him.
At first, he dismissed it as youthful recklessness. Then, perhaps, as ignorance. But it was neither. Kushina had chosen to treat him as something more than a beast. And somewhere along the way, he had begun to respond in kind.
No human being had ever known his name- not the one given to him by the Sage, the one that held weight beyond "Nine-Tails." Yet Kushina knew it. No human had ever heard him speak of the centuries he had endured, of the Sage's parting, of his siblings scattered between the Five Great Hidden Villages. Yet she knew of it, because he had told her.
Sure, he had only told her so that he could earn her trust, but that was still deeply personal to him.
When Madara had almost killed her… the truth had struck him like a hammer to the skull. It was not anger alone that had driven him forward, not pride in protecting what was "his." It was fear, real fear, at the thought of her life ending before his eyes.
Kurama had always been prepared to lose people. The Sage, his siblings, and fleeting allies among humanity. But Kushina? He could not bear it.
He leaned forward now, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely, staring at the dull, unmoving floor of the seal. Survival had been his goal for nearly a millennium. But now, when he thought of the future, of living another hundred, another thousand years without her… he felt only emptiness.
What was he surviving for all those years? Merely a beast acting on instinct, sleeping the days away, and destroying those who harmed him. What was the point?
His memories before her felt… hollow. The victories, the battles, the centuries of freedom- they seemed colorless now. As though his life until this point had been a long, unbroken night, and she was the first true sunrise he had ever seen.
It was strange. The Sage had spoken of love once, long ago, but Kurama had dismissed it as a human weakness. And yet here he was, centuries later, finding that it was the one thing that made his endless life feel worth living.
His gaze shifted upward toward the unseen "sky" of the seal. In the waking world, she was out there, moving, breathing, perhaps laughing at something trivial. The thought softened the tightness in his chest, though he would never admit it aloud.
Kushina could be his new purpose. Not survival, or power, or vengeance. Her. Protecting her, standing beside her- not because she was useful, but because she was Kushina.
And if the cold, bloody world of Shinobi wanted to take her from him? Then the world would burn.