Kushina woke up and immediately groaned, the sound muffled by the thin pillow beneath her head. Her entire body still ached from the ritual the day before, a deep soreness that clung to her muscles and bones. Each small movement reminded her of what had happened, yet she forced herself upright.
She blinked against the pale morning light that leaked through the shutters of her new apartment. The rays painted narrow golden stripes across the floorboards, highlighting the dust that drifted in the air. Everything about this place felt foreign; the distant noises of street vendors instead of the quiet gardens of the Senju compound, the cramped walls instead of the long hallways.
As she pushed herself to her feet, she felt her legs wobble slightly.
Her eyes swept across the unfamiliar room, cataloging details she had already noticed last night: a single low table, a narrow bed tucked in the corner, and a cabinet that smelled faintly of mold. Compared to the spacious, elegant rooms of the Senju estate, this one seemed like a forgotten storage space someone had decided to make livable at the last moment.
She frowned, then let out a small sigh. She started to get ready for the day, splashing cold water on her face from the sink near the window. The shock of it helped chase away the last traces of drowsiness.
After she had woken from her fainting spell yesterday, her entire world had shifted. Before, she had lived under Grandma Mito's watchful care in the Senju compound. It had been strict sometimes, but it was warm, there were prepared meals, and most importantly, it was filled with care.
Mito had taught her much about the Nine-Tails, about the complex sealing arts that defined the Uzumaki clan. Scrolls filled with intricate ink patterns, lectures about chakra flow and containment formulas; so much information that Kushina's head used to spin. She had tried to keep up, but she was still a child, fiery and restless. Sitting still was torture. Memorizing long chains of seals felt impossible. She had nodded when Mito explained things, but in truth, much of it had slid past her like water over stone.
Now Mito was gone, and the burden remained.
Kushina brushed her fingers over a small chest on the table, the one that held sealing tools, a handful of scrolls, which she obtained from Mito, and a faded photograph of her parents. Those were nearly all her possessions now. Her parents had died in the First Shinobi War. She remembered only fleeting images of them; her father's goofy jokes and her mother's fiery personality that she takes so much after. Now, she only had a few objects left to remember them by.
The rest of the apartment was sparse. The walls were bare and colored a dull beige. Aside from what had come pre-furnished, a creaky bedframe, a table, some wobbly chairs, chipped tableware, and a refrigerator that made far too much noise, there was only her personal keepsakes and training materials.
The Third Hokage had emphasized the secrecy of her identity as the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki. This worn-down apartment is a part of that. She can't be shown any special treatment by the village, which means she can't live in the Senju compound. That would draw too much attention.
She took a deep breath, grabbed her small pouch (a gift from the Third Hokage), and headed toward the door. She didn't feel like staying inside, not when her thoughts threatened to swallow her whole. The grief from losing Grandma Mito was still raw.
The Ninja Academy wouldn't start for several more days, leaving her with too much empty time. Exploring the village felt like the only thing that could keep her mind busy.
----
Konoha was the most prosperous of the Hidden Villages. Even though its golden age had passed with the deaths of the First and Second Hokage, its strength still surpassed the others. The streets reflected that stability: clean, orderly, and lively. Stalls lined the main paths, selling steaming skewers of meat, fresh vegetables, and sweet red bean buns. Shutters clattered open as shopkeepers prepared for the day, and distant hammering echoed from construction sites where new homes were being built.
The village itself was cradled by the lush Land of Fire, surrounded by forests that breathed life into the air. Green seemed to dominate everything here: the trees, the moss-covered walls, the grassy training fields. The wind carried the scent of blooming flowers and earth, a sharp contrast to the harsher lands Kushina had heard about: the endless deserts of Sunagakure, the jagged rocky landscape of Iwagakure, the thunderous mountain peaks of Kumogakure, or the somber, mist-shrouded waters of Kirigakure. Konoha and the Land of Fire were paradise in comparison.
Kushina could admit it was beautiful. She loved the green trees and the laughter that floated in the air. Yet when she compared it to the Land of Whirlpools, her heart twisted. The Land of Whirlpools had been surrounded by glistening oceans, its shores painted red and gold during sunset. The village, Uzushiogakure, had been full of warmth, with grassy green hills and a sparkling river. Neighbors would leave extra bread at each other's doors, children ran freely through the streets, and every home had a place for guests at its table. In Uzushio, everyone was family, and for the Uzumaki, family mattered above all else.
"Konoha's nice," she murmured to herself as she walked. "But… it's not home, yet."
She thought of the clanmates who had practically raised her after her parents' deaths. There had been no shortage of affection; every elder treated her as though she were their own granddaughter, every adult as though she were their niece. Even strangers would ruffle her hair and hand her sweets.
In Konoha, people were nice, but distant. They greeted her out of courtesy, not familiarity. And now that Mito was gone…
Her chest tightened. 'I've never felt this alone before,' she admitted quietly.
She turned her gaze away from the families she passed: mothers walking hand-in-hand with their toddlers, fathers laughing as they carried their children on their shoulders. The sight made her steps quicken. Before she realized it, her feet were already steering her toward the Senju compound. She knew she wasn't supposed to go there, but rules felt small compared to the ache in her chest.
She just wanted to see Tsunade. Even Nawaki would be better than being alone.
The Senju compound stood as proud as ever, its gates a deep brown, and its crest displayed prominently on white banners. Guards stood at their usual posts, stern but not unkind. Kushina approached one of them, her small frame straightening as much as it could.
"Can you tell Lady Tsunade I'm here?" she asked, trying to sound formal, though her voice wavered slightly.
The guard hesitated but nodded. "Wait here."
She waited, rocking on her heels, glancing toward the gardens beyond the gate. She could almost picture Tsunade scolding Nawaki for skipping his training, or the two of them sparring under the shade of the old trees. A faint smile tugged at her lips at the memory.
But when she finally saw someone approaching, it wasn't Tsunade. It was Nawaki. His walk was slow, his head lowered slightly. When he looked up and met her eyes, the usual brightness in his gaze was dulled, replaced by something heavier, something that made Kushina's stomach twist.
"Kushina… you're not supposed to be here," he said, his voice sharper than she expected. "The Third Hokage said so."
She froze. Just yesterday, he'd been friendly. They had even shared rice balls in the garden. "What? But… I just wanted to-"
His eyes flickered away. "You shouldn't come here."
Her heart sank. "But I just wanted to play," she tried again, her words tumbling out quickly. "It's so boring at the apartment. There's nothing to do there. I-"
He cut her off, his own voice cracking slightly. "W-well, you can't be here, Kushina. Now go away."
She blinked, startled. Tears glistened at the corners of his eyes, though he tried to hide them by turning his face. He was still mourning Mito, Kushina knew that. She also realized, with a sudden sting, that her presence probably reminded him of Mito's sacrifice. Somewhere deep down, maybe Nawaki blamed her.
It wasn't fair. She hadn't asked for this. But Nawaki was just a child too, only a few years older than her.
Before she could say anything else, he spun around and closed the gate firmly behind him. The heavy thud echoed louder than it should have.
Kushina stood frozen in place, staring at the wooden panels. Her small hands clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms. Her throat felt tight.
Kushina stood in front of the closed gate for several long seconds, staring blankly at the wooden panels. She didn't fully understand why Nawaki was upset with her, but she understood enough to feel the sting of rejection.
The streets that had looked lively just a short while ago now felt too bright, too loud. Families passed by with smiles and baskets of food; children laughed while chasing each other. Kushina stomped the ground and started walking aimlessly.
She found herself wandering toward the quieter parts of Konoha, where the houses became more spaced out and the bustle faded. Here, she could almost imagine she was back in Uzushiogakure, if she squinted, if she ignored the different rooftops and colors. She remembered mornings when she would wake to the smell of sea salt and the sound of waves.
Her pace slowed as her thoughts drifted. She remembered how the villagers back home would greet her by name even when she was very little. The elders always carried sweets in their pockets "just in case Kushina-chan passes by." Her parents' friends used to ruffle her hair affectionately every time they saw her.
A lump formed in her throat. "I wanna go home," she whispered softly to no one.
But home wasn't an option for her anymore. She was now the Jinchuriki of the Nine-Tails, one of Konoha's most vital military assets. She would never see her home again.
----
Elsewhere, deep inside Kushina, the Nine-Tailed Fox stirred. He had witnessed everything that had happened so far and couldn't help but think the village was aiding him in his endeavors. Truly, no matter how much time passes, humans always remain the same. Greedy for his immense power, even at the cost of one another.