Kushina ran across the ocean- her light steps making barely any impact at all on the water's surface. Spray clung to her sandals, but none of it slowed her. Her chakra coursed steady and calm beneath her, her movements swift and unyielding, a red streak across endless blue.
The horizon ahead was swallowed in fog. She was heading toward the Land of Water.
Over the past two weeks, since she returned with the Uzumaki to Akagakure, her life had been consumed with rebuilding. The scattered remnants of her clan- those sixty or seventy weary souls she had dragged back from all across the world- needed homes, food, and order. They needed her utmost attention.
So, she had given herself to the task. She'd hauled lumber with her own hands when there weren't enough to spare. She'd worked side by side with the craftsmen, laying the foundations for homes and carving symbols of protection into doorways. She'd stood at the head of long meetings, where people argued over the distribution of supplies and territory, and silenced the disputes with a single sharp look. For a people used to constant loss, they had followed her without hesitation.
But in the chaos, there hadn't been space for more. Not for long journeys or another rescue. She had pushed it back, telling herself it could wait, that Kirigakure would not dare mistreat the Uzumaki they had under their hold. At least, not openly.
Yet, as days passed and their little village began to settle into something resembling stability, she could not longer wait. Every time she passed an Uzumaki child playing in the newly built streets, or saw an elder finally sitting down with relief on a finished porch, she thought of the ones still left behind. Their eyes haunted her- eyes she hadn't even seen, but could already imagine. Fragile, waiting, and uncertain.
So now, with Akagakure's foundations steady enough to hold without her constant presence, she no longer had excuses. It was time.
The sea breeze turned colder as she crossed further into foreign waters. She could already feel the difference in the air. It was thick, damp, and oppressive. The ocean around her grew quieter, and the mist ahead pressed close, swallowing the light.
The Land of Water stretched out before her, dreary and cloaked in its perpetual shroud. The lack of sunlight weighed heavily on the waves, casting everything in muted tones. An eerie stillness hung there, as if the land itself held its breath.
She slowed her pace slightly, taking it in. No wonder most Kiri shinobi she had seen were unsettling. Growing up in this environment, where shadows lingered even at midday, and where voices were muffled by mist, it shaped people. She could almost feel the sharp edges of paranoia, suspicion, and cruelty hidden in the fog.
The Land of Water was unlike the mainland. Its power was isolation. Islands scattered across the sea, connected by only boats and bridges. Where Iwa or Kumo could be infiltrated by land routes, Kirigakure's geography itself was a fortress. And that fortress was drenched in water, giving its shinobi an overwhelming advantage. Water Release here was much more effective.
But none of that mattered to her. She wasn't here to measure their defenses, nor to admire their lands. She was here for her people.
Unlike when she had stormed into Iwagakure and Kumogakure, this time she had sent word in advance. The other villages had already seen what she could do when provoked; there was no need to prove herself again, not yet. She'd show them the minimum amount of courtesy. So, the Third Mizukage himself was waiting outside the village to receive her.
A silhouette took shape through the mist, standing tall and composed at the edge of the pier. Kohaku Yuki- the Third Mizukage.
"Lady Kushina, welcome." His voice was smooth, practiced, carrying the weight of formality.
She studied him, unhurried. Kohaku was a tall man with long black hair flowing neatly down his back, skin lightly bronzed. His most striking feature was his icy blue eyes- sharp, glacial, and oddly delicate, paired with an almost feminine elegance. To most, his appearance might have been disarming.
But Kushina did not care for appearances. Her gaze cut deeper, into his chakra, into the emotions that radiated off him.
There was an unmistakable controlled malice there.
He did not hate her, not personally. But he feared her, resented her, and behind the veil of his calm tone, he was planning. However, Kushina didn't think he was planning something for this visit, but rather, colluding with the other villages. That, she wasn't too concerned about.
Kushina's expression did not change.
"Mizukage." Her tone was clipped, devoid of warmth. "Take me to my people."
A flicker passed through his eyes, quickly masked. He nodded.
To him, her scrutiny was unbearable. When her gaze lingered, it was as if she peeled back his skin, laid bare every intention he thought hidden. For the first time in years, he felt stripped of all pretense. And that vulnerability twisted like a blade in his chest.
"Of course," he said quickly, his composure not quite hiding his discomfort. "This way."
He moved with long strides, eager to put distance between them, eager to conclude this visit swiftly.
----
Much like in Iwagakure, the Uzumaki here had been kept in comfort- or rather, what their captors thought comfort should look like. A high-class house, fine clothing, and meals of better quality than most villagers would see. It was all a performance, a thin veneer of respect to appease her.
When Kushina approached, they emerged into the courtyard. Their hair was clean, their robes new. At first glance, they looked well.
But she knew better than to trust these big villages.
She saw it in their faces- the fragile hope that flickered there, desperate but faint, like embers smothered by ash. She knew that expression all too well; she had seen it in every rescue so far, and she would never forget it.
There were around thirty of them, a number not unlike the other villages. Yet the state they were in was worse. Her sharp eyes caught what others might overlook: the subtle slowness in a child's steps, the slight discoloration beneath an elder's skin. Signs of low vitality. Very unnatural for Uzumaki, whose life force was famed for its resilience.
And the scars. Not battle scars, but from experimentation.
Her jaw clenched. She could imagine all too clearly the cold rooms, the blood drawn, the hands that had carved those marks in search of secrets they had no right to touch.
Her temper flared, hot and violent for a single instant. But she mastered it. She wouldn't make any moves while her clansmen were still here.
Once she got these people home, she swore to herself, there would be no more tolerance. The Hidden Villages would be wiped clean, erased from the map entirely. Their corruption, their arrogance, and their cruelty- she would burn it all away.
For now, she kept her fury coiled.
"Lady Kushina." The Mizukage's voice cut through her thoughts.
"Hn." A low, dismissive grunt was her reply.
"Let us… negotiate." His tone was cautious, almost delicate. "I believe I have something you will find of interest."
Her brows furrowed slightly. What position did he think he was in, to bargain with her?
"What is it?"
"An alliance." The word fell carefully. "Would you consider forming one with Kirigakure?"
Her gaze sharpened, cold. He pressed on quickly.
"Your village is newly formed. While your strength is undeniable, the rest of your people are still… vulnerable. Compared to Kumo, Suna, Iwa, or Konoha, Akagakure cannot yet stand as their equal. But together, we could balance the scales. Our cooperation would benefit us both."
She stared at him, her silence heavier than words.
Maybe, if she gave up her pride and made a pact with these hyenas that destroyed her village, it would be the pragmatic move... but that was never how Kushina worked- nor how the Uzumaki work in general. She could never work with someone who caused her and her people so much pain.
Her eyes narrowed, a shard of frost in her voice.
"I'll tell you what I told every other village." Her tone was sharp, deliberate, and final. "If you leave us alone, I will not touch your village. But-" her voice dropped colder, deadlier, "-if you dare set foot on our homeland again, I will make certain not a single soul of your village survives."
A tense silence stretched.
The Mizukage forced a smile, though cold sweat ran down his back. "I would never dream of it, Lady Kushina."
"Then we understand each other."
She turned away, the matter finished. He followed, his face composed but his heart heavy.
She knew the truth. Her words were a lie, and his reply a lie.
Conflict was inevitable.