The air beneath the mountain was thick with moisture and the scent of old paper and chakra ink.
In the lowest vaults of Kirigakure, where ancient Uzumaki ruins had been entombed and forgotten for generations, flickering torchlight danced against carved stone walls etched with sealing runes long thought lost.
The temperature was cool, but the atmosphere felt heavy — like the air itself was holding its breath.
Mei Terumi stood still, arms folded over her chest, her sharp eyes focused on the artifact before her.
The scroll was large and ragged, aged parchment held together by blackened binding threads. But the chakra it radiated was alive — dangerous.
Ancient. It pulsed faintly, reacting to her presence like it could sense her lineage, her authority, her need.
For weeks now, Mist's top researchers had worked in silence, unearthing pieces of a hidden shrine buried beneath the cliffs. What they found wasn't just a relic. It was a warning — and a promise.
Mei had read the glyphs three times already, each line digging deeper into her gut."When the world's chakra begins to rot… summon the Seedbearer. Through him, the land will breathe anew. But only by sacred fusion shall he endure."
She didn't need the full translation to know what it meant. The chakra crisis was worsening. The world was breaking. This was no myth.
The current Mizukage had asked her to oversee the scroll's activation — but not to alert the other villages. Not yet. They didn't trust the others to share something like this. And Mei… Mei wasn't inclined to share anything that powerful either.
She turned to the small group of kunoichi kneeling in preparation — four of them, all cloaked in pale blue robes, their hands folded in ritual poses.
"Begin."
Up in the mountains, where the mist never cleared and the skies rarely opened, a sacred circle had been carved into the stone long ago.
Mei stepped onto it now, barefoot, as the wind howled around the open shrine. Glyphs etched into the ground began to glow faintly red.
Around her, the others chanted — Uzumaki phrases twisted into mist-style intonations. Thunder rolled in the distance. The scroll pulsed once, then again, as if it were breathing.
Then the sky split.
Lightning cracked above them, and a vortex of raw chakra tore through the seal at Mei's feet. She didn't flinch as the world distorted for a moment — like the laws of reality bent inward. Something fell through the storm.
And then there he was.
A young man landed hard in the center of the circle, gasping, half-naked, his skin steaming from residual chakra.
He coughed and rolled onto his side, disoriented, his hands scrabbling at the stone floor like he'd been torn out of a dream.
Mei stepped toward him, the air reacting instantly to her movement. Her hair danced around her shoulders in the charged wind. The other kunoichi froze, wide-eyed.
"Did it work?" one whispered.
The man — boy, really — blinked up at Mei. Confused, stunned. He looked like he didn't even understand where he was, let alone why.
"Where the hell… am I?" he rasped.
Mei knelt slowly, resting her palm on his bare shoulder to test his chakra flow.
That was a mistake.
A rush of energy exploded between them. It wasn't violent — but it was intimate. Mei gasped sharply, her entire body tensing. Her breath hitched.
Heat crawled down her spine and settled low in her abdomen as the surrounding chakra responded to him, flowing into her like a tide.
She staggered back half a step.
"His body…" she murmured, more to herself than anyone. "It's pulling chakra into me."
That confirmed it. The scroll hadn't summoned a god or a weapon — it had summoned A vessel.
She stood abruptly, her eyes narrowing. "Clear the shrine. Now."
The kunoichi hesitated.
"You heard me."
They obeyed without question, backing out of the chamber, their expressions a mix of confusion and wariness.
Now alone with him, Mei exhaled slowly and looked down at the boy.
"Can you stand?"
He nodded weakly, struggling to his feet. He was taller than she expected. Fit, but not a warrior's build. His expression was dazed — as if he was trying to force logic onto a world that refused to play by his rules.
"I'm Mei," she said, watching him closely. "This is Kirigakure. But you… you're not from this world, are you?"
He looked around. "This is insane."
"Yes," she agreed. "But it's also happening."
Mei reached for the seals on her robe, slipping it off her shoulders with practiced ease. Beneath it, ceremonial tattoos shimmered faintly — old bloodline markings and chakra paths designed for ritual sync. Her body was graceful, powerful, and marked with the history of a woman who had led a bloody village and survived it.
Ren blinked at her in stunned silence. "What the hell are you doing?"
"You were summoned by chakra," she said. "But your body wasn't made for this world. If we don't stabilize the connection now, your system will collapse. The scroll warned us. Fusion is the only answer."
"You mean—"
"Yes."
Mei stepped forward and placed her hand on his chest. His skin was warm. Too warm. Chakra stirred in the air again, spiraling toward him like a tide pulled by the moon.
Her hand lingered longer than it should have.
She should've been colder. Clinical. She'd told herself this would be a ritual, nothing more — like signing a treaty or performing a seal. But her fingers trembled slightly, and she hated that they did.
Her voice was steady when she spoke. "You don't have to understand. Just trust me."
The chamber was silent save for the breath of the wind slipping through its stone arches. The mist curled around her ankles, coiling like smoke from a long-dead fire. Mei stood still for a moment, facing the glowing seal at the center of the floor, the man sitting at its heart.
And then, with slow fingers, she undid the clasp of her robe.
It slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet.
Underneath, her body bore the scars of her years as Mizukage — and the tattoos of someone born into war. Ceremonial chakra lines marked her thighs, her spine, the inner curve of her hips. They glowed faintly now, reacting to the energy in the room.
Ren stared, unsure if he was dreaming. But Mei didn't meet his gaze yet.
Her heart was beating harder than she expected.
Not since I was a girl…
She hadn't let anyone touch her. Not seriously. Not since becoming Mizukage. The pressure. The responsibility.
The danger. There had been offers, sure — nervous suitors, ambitious shinobi, sweet promises whispered after missions — but she had turned them all down.
There had never been time for softness.
And now here she was. In a mist-wrapped shrine, undressing before a stranger. A man pulled from another world. Not for love. Not for lust. But for duty.
She stepped into the circle.
"For the village," she told herself.
"For the world."
Three hours later…
The shrine had grown quiet again, save for the soft hum of residual chakra still pulsing through the ancient seals etched into the floor. Moonlight filtered in through the broken stone arch above, casting a pale glow across the ritual circle.
Mei lay draped across Ren's bare chest, her skin slick with sweat and glowing faintly where old chakra tattoos still responded to the binding. Her auburn hair was tousled, clinging to her cheeks and shoulders, her breath steady now but shallow — the slow, spent rhythm of a woman who had given everything.
They hadn't moved in a long while.
Her hand rested lightly on his stomach. His chest rose and fell beneath her cheek. He was asleep again, or close to it — exhausted, but alive.
Her own body ached. Between her thighs, a dull soreness lingered, not just from the act itself, but from the sheer weight of chakra that had surged through her during the ritual. The floor beneath them was stained faintly — a small streak of blood dried into the stone, dark against the glow of the summoning seals.
Her lips parted as she looked down at it.
There it was. Quiet. Undeniable.
The final proof of something she'd held onto for decades, now left behind on the stone.
It hadn't mattered before. She had convinced herself it never would. But now… her body felt different. Not just touched, but changed. Opened.
Her legs shifted slowly, instinctively closing. A faint stickiness clung between them — the trace of Ren's release still leaking from her, warm and slow, marked with the scent of chakra and sweat. She clenched slightly, her breath hitching from the sensitivity.
"It's done," she thought. "No going back."
Mei exhaled and pushed herself upright, careful not to wake him. Her thighs trembled slightly as she moved — muscles weak from strain, from holding him, from letting herself ride out something so overwhelming it had cracked her composure.
She looked down at him, brushing his hair away from his forehead. He looked younger in sleep. Softer. As if the weight of being summoned had finally left him, if only for now.
Still naked, Mei stood slowly.
Her legs shook beneath her as she stepped carefully across the chamber, reaching for her discarded robe. She slipped it over her shoulders, the fabric clinging briefly to her damp skin. She grimaced faintly as she tied it — her hips still ached from the force of chakra-fusion. Her inner thighs burned. She welcomed the sting.
A slow breath.
She took a moment to collect herself.