Night deepened.
The house the village had assigned to the Uzumaki was quiet—too quiet.
After Grandma passed away, this place had been left with only her.
All the hurt she'd swallowed at school during the day swelled in the silence, magnified until it felt unbearable.
She sat on the tatami, hugged her knees, and buried her face in them.
Why was her hair red?
Why did she have to be brought to Konoha as a jinchūriki candidate?
Why couldn't people just look at her—why did they always see the label "outsider" first?
When all she wanted… was to protect the people who mattered, like Grandma did—to become a remarkable shinobi everyone could truly acknowledge.
Tears soaked the fabric over her knees without a sound.
So lonely.
And then she suddenly remembered the chat group.
That strange chat group full of all kinds of weird members.
She didn't understand it.
But at least… nobody there knew her. Nobody would call her "tomato."
"They said everyone in the group is friends, and when you're lonely you can come chat anytime."
Friends…
Kushina wiped her tears. With a flicker of thought, she tried to "open" that interface in her mind.
A pale blue light-screen quietly appeared.
She was debating whether to type something, or just see what everyone else was talking about—
Crack.
A faint sound—like someone snapping a dry twig—came from outside the house.
Not a cat.
A shinobi's instincts made every hair on Kushina's body stand on end. Grief vanished, replaced by pure alertness.
She held her breath and crept to the window, peering out through a slit in the curtain.
Under the moonlight, several dark figures landed silently outside her small yard.
They wore animal masks—but the style… was definitely not Konoha's.
Foreign shinobi.
Their gazes snapped toward her room all at once.
One of them made a hand sign.
The next second—
BANG!!!
The door was smashed open with brutal force.
Three shinobi slipped inside like ghosts, forming a triangle as they boxed her in.
The one in front had a hoarse voice. Under his mask, his eyes coldly examined Kushina—lingering for a moment on her red hair.
"Target confirmed."
He murmured, "Uzumaki clan. Red hair. Female. Matches the intel: 'Nine-Tails jinchūriki candidate.'"
Kushina's heart slammed against her ribs. Her face went pale.
Jinchūriki.
They were here for her!
"Come quietly and you won't suffer as much," the hoarse shinobi said, reaching out.
"Who are you?!" Kushina took a step back, her spine hitting the wall as her hand slid toward her ninja pouch.
"You don't need to know," another shinobi snapped impatiently.
"Hurry up. Konoha's patrol is about to смена—switch shifts."
No time to hesitate!
Kushina slammed the smoke bomb she'd already palmed onto the floor.
POP!
Thick gray-white smoke exploded outward, filling the room in an instant.
"Cheap trick!" the hoarse shinobi snorted, as if he'd expected it. His body flashed like lightning through the smoke, grabbing precisely for where Kushina had been standing.
Empty.
The window was wide open—her small red figure had already vaulted out, sprinting under the moonlight toward the center of the village.
"Chase! We have to catch her!" the hoarse shinobi growled, and the three of them shot after her like hunting leopards.
Kushina ran with everything she had, wind roaring in her ears.
Don't get caught.
No matter what—she couldn't let these unknown shinobi take her.
Her mind raced.
The center of the village has more guards—run that way!
If she could just run into a patrol…
Whip!
A kunai tore past her cheek and thunked into a tree trunk ahead.
So fast!
They were far faster than her—a mere academy student.
"This way!"
Kushina grit her teeth and darted into a narrow alley.
The terrain was tighter here. Maybe she could—
A dark shadow dropped from above like a bat, cutting her off.
The hoarse one. He'd arrived first—taken a shortcut!
"Pretty quick," he said, stepping toward her, eyes like a predator staring at prey already caught in a snare.
"But this is where it ends."
Kushina pressed her back against the icy wall, panting. She gripped a kunai so hard her knuckles went white.
Was this… really it?
…
At the same moment, in a distant world.
The Calm Belt. Amazon Lily. The highest terrace of the Kuja palace.
The sea breeze was gentle.
Rei Ao lounged sideways on a wide, comfortable couch, relaxed and unhurried.
He was bare-chested, his physique lean and defined without being exaggerated, his skin holding a faint healthy sheen under the moonlight.
Boa Hancock knelt beside the couch.
She was no longer the frail, terrified child she once had been.
Time itself—whether by its own power, or by the casual twist of a hand—had brought her into a breathtaking adulthood in an instant.
Her black hair fell like a waterfall to her waist, her skin pale as snow, her features so flawless they looked carved by a master artisan.
Even a simple profile was enough to steal breath.
A luxurious purple cheongsam traced every curve with stunning elegance, the slit revealing long legs that gleamed under the moonlight.
Yet there was none of the empress's usual pride or command on her face now.
Only a near-reverent devotion—tender, wholehearted, and utterly infatuated.
With slender, fair fingers, she held out a peeled purple grape, offering it carefully to Rei Ao's lips.
"Rei Ao-sama, please."
Her voice was soft and sweet, full of undisguised admiration.
Rei Ao opened his mouth and took it.
A delicate blush immediately bloomed on Hancock's cheeks, her eyes shimmering like water.
After swallowing, Rei Ao said casually, "From now on, you're the queen of Amazon Lily. That old woman, and everyone else on the island, won't have any objections."
He said it as lightly as if deciding what to eat for dinner.
In truth, the moment he descended upon Amazon Lily and overwhelmed everyone—including the former empress Gloriosa—with an irresistible presence, the outcome had already been decided.
Hancock's eyes lit up with a dazzling brilliance.
She moved closer on her knees, nearly nestling into his embrace, lifting her exquisite face and breathing softly, fragrant as a whisper:
"I don't want to be Amazon Lily's queen…"
She paused, then leaned toward his ear and murmured in a breath only the two of them could hear—shy, yet daring:
"I only want to be your woman… forever."
After saying it, she grew so embarrassed she buried her face in the hollow of his neck, the tips of her ears burning red.
Rei Ao let out a low chuckle and slipped an arm around her slender, supple waist.
It felt wonderful.
He hadn't even needed to "shape" Hancock into anything.
At her core, she was simply devoted—pure, straightforward, and stubborn in the way she held onto what she chose.
He had pulled her out of a hellish fate and given her power, safety, and a new future.
Worship, gratitude, reliance—mixed with the fiercest sincerity of the heart—had fermented into this unreserved, almost excessive love.
And of course…
The sheer force of what he was, and the way he carried himself, had its own undeniable, conquering effect.
After that, the way Hancock looked at him was practically like she was staring at a god walking among humans,