Kushina was once again found in her office, surrounded by towering stacks of documents, administrative reports, and hastily scribbled intelligence notes. The air was heavy with the scent of ink and parchment, the only sound the scratch of her pen against paper. Her blue eyes, sharp but weary, scanned the latest report.
A sigh escaped her lips as her mind drifted for what felt like the hundredth time that day. The monotony of leadership was exhausting. She couldn't imagine how much work the other Kage had, with their larger populations and endless problems.
Kushina leaned back in her chair, brushing a strand of red hair from her face. She'd much rather be spending time with Kurama- and in fact, she already was. The Akakage sitting at the desk was simply a shadow clone. The real Kushina was elsewhere, spending time with him, basking in the quiet warmth of his presence, while she, a perfect replica, handled the tedious duties.
Ever since that day she had confessed her feelings, they had spent nearly every moment together- more than before, even. She liked to think it was going well, though Kurama was difficult to read. He was ancient, older than the modern nations, and callous.
At times, she caught the faintest glimmers of warmth behind his words or in the way his tails curled near her, but subtlety was not something Kushina excelled at reading.
Sometimes, she thought she was in over her head as a young sixteen-year-old.
"I mean, who's ever heard of a nine-hundred-year age difference?" she mumbled under her breath, twirling her pen.
If Kurama had rejected her that day among the blue roses, she might have sworn off romance entirely. But he hadn't, and now her heart was his, irrevocably. She couldn't imagine being with anyone else. That was just the kind of person she was- stubborn and absolute. When she loved, she loved with everything.
The clone shook her head, refocusing on the task at hand. She wasn't the Kushina who could afford to daydream about love; she was the Akakage, or at least a temporary stand-in. Her duty was to Akagakure, to the Uzumaki clan, and to the future they were carving from the ashes of Uzushio.
Her attention drifted to the documents spread across her desk. The data they could gather from the outside world was sparse, frustratingly so. For one, Akagakure was still too isolated and insular. For another, the Uzumaki simply weren't suited to covert operations.
Despite being called shinobi, subtlety was not their strong suit. Their immense vitality made them stand out to any sensor-nin, glowing like a light in the dark. On top of that, most Uzumaki were brash, impatient, or too honest to make convincing spies.
The handful she had sent out returned with little more than rumors or scraps of information. Still, there were enough hints to paint a picture. The five great villages- Kumo, Iwa, Suna, Kiri, and even Konoha- were moving cautiously, but deliberately.
Kushina had expected something like this. She, Kurama, and her advisors had discussed it at length. But she had hoped their rivalries would keep them divided longer. Pride, stubbornness, and distrust usually kept the Kage snapping at each other like dogs over a bone. Yet this time, they were willing to risk and compromise more.
She tapped her desk. Ōnoki, the Tsuchikage, had sent his son as a political hostage to Konoha, a bold move to secure trust. Suna and Kiri had made similar gestures, sacrificing their pride for unity. The villages were taking her seriously- more seriously than she'd expected.
With a smirk, she muttered, "But still not seriously enough, dattebane."
The Uzumaki were a force to be reckoned with, and she would make sure the world knew it.
---
Elsewhere, far from any eyes or ears that might pry, the Kage gathered.
The air was thick with tension, the stone walls of the chamber cold and dark, lit only by flickering torches. Each Kage stood or sat at a circular stone table, their guards a silent presence behind them, their expressions filled with unease or stone. The threat of Kushina Uzumaki and her resurgent Uzumaki clan loomed large, a shadow over all of their lives.
This led to the second Five Kage Summit. For the first time in decades, all of them gathered. But the faces were different from years past.
Ōnoki of Iwa sat hunched but sharp-eyed, his face etched with grim determination. At his side stood Han, the stoic Jinchuriki of the Five-Tails.
The Raikage, Ay, radiated thunderous intensity. His presence seemed to vibrate with restrained violence, and at his side lounged his brother, the Eight-Tails' host, Bee, whose casualness contrasted Ay's fury.
From Kirigakure came Mizukage Kohaku Yuki, tall, composed, and cold, with Jinin Akebino of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist standing near him..
The Kazekage, Takumi, looked younger and less imposing than the others, but the shrewd gaze he shared with Chiyo made it clear he wasn't a puppet. His nation had the toughest environment, and it showed.
And finally, Jiraiya, the Fourth Hokage, uncharacteristically solemn, with Hiruzen Sarutobi at his side. Of them all, Konoha had the most precarious position- outside of Kumo. Their numbers and workforce were wounded. The only thing remaining were a few high-level fighters, but they didn't even have a Jinchuriki.
Ōnoki's voice cut through first. "You've all seen the reports. Kushina Uzumaki has rebuilt her clan. She created a new hidden village, with the Nine-Tails bound to her. It may be isolated so far, but who's to say that continues? We cannot ignore this."
Kohaku leaned forward, eyes glinting like ice. "I agree. If they're left unchecked, it'll mean the end of all of us. I met her not long after they settled. I know exactly how she feels about us. Their new village is a threat."
Chiyo folded her hands, her tone grim. "The Uzumaki should have perished with Uzushio. If they've rebuilt, even partially, then our past wars will be for nothing. We cannot afford their resurgence."
At that, Ay slammed a fist against the table, making the wood groan. "Talk all you want about hypotheticals. My father is dead. Half my village lies in ruins. Who do you think is responsible?!" His glare burned, first at Jiraiya, then sweeping across them all. "Kushina Uzumaki commands the Nine-Tails. I'll not sit here and wring my hands while she gathers power! We go to war. Now."
Bee whistled low, trying to cut the tension. "Yo, bro, rage won't bring him back. Think before you snap the pact."
Ay growled but didn't sit. "I've thought plenty. War is the only path forward. If we hesitate, she'll strike first."
Ōnoki snorted, adjusting his position in the chair. "Calm yourself, Raikage. I don't like the Uzumaki any more than you do, but rushing in blindly is how villages fall. Kushina's not just some upstart- she's got the Nine-Tails and her clan is nearly unmatched."
Kohaku's voice was cool. "The Tsuchikage's right. Even when nearly all of us teamed up, taking Uzushio was a struggle that cost many lives. That was when they didn't have a ninja on our level. With Kushina..." He shook his head, "Kushina's isolated on her island, but that makes her unpredictable. My spies report she's gathering intel on us, though her scouts are clumsy. She knows we're moving against her, and she's not sitting idle."
Takumi nodded, his voice low and gravelly. "Suna can't afford another war, not after the last one. But from Kushina's actions, it's clear she holds a grudge. If we don't act, she'll bring the fight to us."
Jiraiya raised a hand, his tone calm but firm. "I hear you, all of you. Konoha's in a bad spot too, but war with Kushina means war with the Nine-Tails, and that's a fight none of us can win easily.
She's young, sixteen, and headstrong, but she's not reckless. She's trying to protect her clan, just like we're protecting ours. There's still a chance to negotiate."
Ay scoffed, his voice dripping with scorn. "Negotiate? With a girl who slaughters anyone who looks at her wrong? She's a monster, Jiraiya, and you're fooling yourself if you think she'll listen. I say we rally our forces, storm that island, and end this before she brings a Tailed Beast Bomb down on us all!"
Ōnoki snorted. "Spare us the sentimental lectures, Hokage. We've all seen what happens when one clan grows too strong. The Uzumaki's sealing arts alone are dangerous- now the Nine-Tails is with them as well. If Kushina truly rebuilds her people, she won't stop at defense. Power begets ambition."
Hiruzen exhaled a plume of smoke, his voice measured. "Your anger is justified, but Jiraiya's right. Kushina's not Madara Uchiha. She's mainly driven by a love for her clan, from what I can tell. At the very least, we should be more patient."
Ōnoki leaned forward, his eyes sharp. "Then what do you propose? She's already united her clan, and history has shown that she's stronger than the best of us. That was over a year ago. If we wait too long, we'll be facing an enemy we can't counter."
Kohaku tapped her fingers on the table. "We could isolate her further. Cut off trade routes, block her scouts, and starve her village of resources."
Chiyo spoke at last, her voice dry. "Isolation won't work. As far as we can tell, they've made barely any contact with the outside world. They don't trade, and they're most likely self-sufficient by now."
Takumi spoke. "War will not be clean. Even if we destroy their village, we'll pay dearly. The Uzumaki don't die easily. Every corpse they leave behind will curse us for generations. However, I don't see any other way to solve this."
Ay barked, "I agree. Waiting only makes her stronger!"
Jiraiya met his fury with calmness. "And rushing in makes us weaker. I won't deny the danger. If Kushina misuses the Nine-Tails, I'll be the first to act. But I won't risk everything I love so easily."
Silence fell, thick with unease. Each Kage weighed their desire for war against caution.
Finally, Ōnoki leaned back, frowning. "Then we agree on this much- Kushina cannot be ignored. Whether we strike soon or wait, every one of us must prepare. The Uzumaki will not fade quietly."
Ay growled low in his chest but sat, fists clenched tight. "Prepare all you want. When the time comes, I'll finish this."
Jiraiya's gaze was solemn, and his voice carried a quiet finality. "Then let's pray that time never comes."