[Read up to 60+ Chapters in advance on P atreon at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]
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Kushina's House, Konohagakure
She pushed the door open with her shoulder, the wood creaking faintly before it closed behind her with a soft click.
The house was dark, silent, empty, hopeless. A reflection of what her world had become. She didn't bother with the lights; there was no point. Light couldn't change anything. It couldn't reach where she had fallen.
At the entrance, she slipped off her shinobi sandals and walked in. Each step echoed faintly against the wooden floorboards, tap, tap, tap, steady but lifeless.
Her feet carried her straight to the bathroom… it was not the desire wanting to clean herself that carried her there… it was just something she didn't know… perhaps she was just being drawn by some futile ritual.
Inside, the faint rustle filled the air as she peeled her clothes off one by one, wordlessly, without a hum or sigh.
Before long, she was completely bare.
Had anyone been watching her, they might have seen the red welts on her buttocks, the faint bite marks scattered across her skin, shoulders, breasts, back, stomach, thighs… All of them were the lingering marks of what she had gone through, proof of her suffering, her pain, not merely physical… but emotional.
But there was no one to see her. Only she and perhaps the fox sealed within her… It let out a laugh upon seeing her pain, but that laughter didn't reach her ears.
Even as her gaze fell over her own wounds, it was without focus, neither shame nor anger, only numb awareness.
Soon, she lowered herself onto the wooden stool by the basin.
The contact stung, sharp, needling pain against the tender flesh, but she didn't flinch, didn't even twitch. Her expression stayed blank, eyes distant, as she turned the faucet and let the cold water fill the bucket before pouring it over herself, shoulders, back, chest.
Splash.
The chill should have made her flinch; the water was really cold, but it wasn't cold enough to reach what was already numb. Her hands, her feet, her whole body felt distant, detached. So she stayed still as the water struck her skin, ran over the red marks, down her arms, and gathered in shallow pools by her feet.
She dipped the cloth and began to scrub, slow, deliberate strokes across her arms, breasts, stomach, shoulders, sides, thighs… washing the sweat, saliva, stickiness, and semen lingering there until she paused.
Something caught her eye, the faint white fabric peeking out from her vagina.
Apparently, she had forgotten about the panties Kanzou had stuffed inside her vagina after filling her with his cum to stop it from leaking out. She hadn't even felt them lodged there; her body was too numb, too wrecked to notice, until now.
When she finally did, she reached down and tugged them free with a slow, trembling pull. Pain lanced through her core as the movement scraped across oversensitive flesh. Her swollen vagina throbbed, raw and red, every nerve screaming. Her body jerked involuntarily as the last bit slid out, followed by a last tremor that rippled up her spine.
Thick strands of semen spilled from her, mixing with the water pooled on the floor. She watched blankly as the white trails spread between her feet, her empty gaze fixed on the rippling puddle. Droplet after droplet fell, her mind drifting into that white… as she felt lost while watching it, until the sharp sound of water overflowing from the bucket and splashing to the ground jolted her faintly back to awareness.
She tore her gaze away from the pool of semen and reached for the faucet, twisting it off with a soft click. When she looked down again, the overflowing water had already washed everything away, the evidence of it, at least. The stickiness still clung faintly to her skin and the floor, but the rest was gone, dissolved and carried off.
So, she simply went back to moving her hands, continuing to wash herself slowly, methodically, each motion detached and hollow, as if she were scrubbing the skin of a stranger, not her own.
After cleaning herself, she stood with water dripping from her skin and slowly stepped into the tub, turning on the faucet. Steam rose, curling in soft tendrils as hot water filled around her. She sank down, drawing her knees to her chest, and leaned back.
Her eyes lifted to the ceiling tiles, not counting them as she once might have, not imagining doodles or graffiti to fill their emptiness, just staring. Blankly. The white tiles loomed above her, cold and unfeeling, reflecting her hollow gaze back at her.
Time lost all meaning. Seconds bled into minutes, minutes into an hour, perhaps even longer.
She didn't know how long she had sat there, motionless, eyes locked on the white ceiling as the water's heat crept over her skin, turning it pink, then red. It scalded, but she didn't move; her mind didn't even feel it. Her gaze stayed hollow, unfocused, fixed somewhere far beyond the tiles above.
Nearly two hours passed before she finally stirred… and exhaled a sigh.
The water rippled as she rose, her skin flushed and wrinkled from the heat. She reached for the towel and began to dry herself, dragging the coarse fabric over tender, reddened skin. No flinch. No sound. Her face remained blank as she left the bathroom and walked toward her bedroom in silence.
She took clean clothes from the cupboard, a turtleneck first, then a pair of shorts, nothing more, nothing underneath.
After dressing, she stood motionless in the centre of the dark bedroom, arms limp at her sides, eyes fixed on the shinobi bag resting on the table. The zipper hung half-open, straps loose, a few tools spilling slightly from within.
Her expression hardly changed, but faint flickers crossed her face, small, fleeting shifts born of the thoughts circling her mind. Or rather, one thought that refused to leave… or perhaps one she couldn't let go of and before long crossed the room.
She reached into the bag, rummaging until her fingers brushed cold metal. A moment later, she pulled out a black kunai.
She held it up and turned it slowly in her hand. The steel gleamed coldly under the dim light.
A single tear slipped from one puffy eye as the memory of a bright, sunny smile, Minato's smile, flashed in her mind. 'Kushina…'
But that warmth was quickly devoured by the image of a black-haired demon's cruel grin. 'Fufufu… Kushina-chan~'
The tear clung to her jaw for a moment before falling. "I'm sorry, Minato-kun…" she whispered, pressing the kunai's tip to her chest.
With a trembling breath, she pushed.
The blade tore through fabric, pierced the flesh, and sank deep.
As the tear struck the floor, red bloomed across her turtleneck, spreading quickly.
"With this… I'll be free… h-he won't be able to touch me again…" she breathed, her fingers loosening around the hilt.
Darkness crept in from the edges of her vision as her body went limp and collapsed to the floor with a dull thud.
But within that darkness, a pair of eyes glimmered, and from her still form, an orange chakra began to bubble out.
"I can't let you escape this easily… now, can I, girl…"
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Outside the Barrier Division
Since it was nearly the end of Kushina's shift, Minato, rested and refreshed after the afternoon, headed over, hoping to see her, talk to her, and check in. But… Kushina never came out.
"Is she too busy or something?" he murmured, scratching his cheek.
He waited a little longer, but she still didn't appear. Growing uneasy, he stopped one of the shinobi leaving the building and asked about her. The response left him stunned. "Uzumaki Kushina? She left before midday. Said she wasn't feeling well… Well… she did look a bit out of it."
"I see…" Minato nodded and thanked the shinobi before heading toward Kushina's house.
On the way, he stopped to buy some simple food, something light that a sick person could eat, figuring she probably hadn't cooked anything for herself.
As he walked, a frown creased his brow. "Could she be seriously ill or something?" he murmured, worry flickering in his voice. But then he shook his head, forcing a small smile. "No… It's probably nothing that serious, right?" Still, his pace quickened.
When Minato reached her house, an ANBU operative stepped in front of him before he could even knock.
"Namikaze Minato, you are not permitted to meet Uzumaki Kushina-sama at the moment," the masked shinobi said flatly.
"I can't meet her? I heard she isn't feeling well… I just wanted to check on her," Minato explained, his tone calm but concerned.
"She appears fine," the ANBU replied evenly. "She's currently resting. If you were to meet her now, you'd only be disturbing her."
Hearing the ANBU's response, Minato could only sigh helplessly.
It wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Every few months, Kushina would suddenly fall ill, or at least that's what he was told, and during those days, he wouldn't be allowed to see her at all. Then, just as abruptly, she'd recover, acting as if nothing had happened. Whenever he asked about it, she'd brush it off with a smile, saying it was nothing serious and that a bit of rest had done the trick.
Minato wondered if that was the case again this time… yet, for reasons he couldn't quite understand, a strange heaviness settled in his chest.
And he really felt that he had to check up on Kushina, and tried to say, "It wouldn't take too long… I just hope to give her this soup… it'll definitely make her feel better…"
The ANBU operative let out a quiet sigh before speaking. "You meeting her right now would only make things harder for her; it wouldn't be good for her health."
Minato frowned. "What do you mean by that?"
The masked shinobi's tone cooled. "Your reputation isn't exactly in good standing at the moment… and frankly, I don't think it's appropriate for you to see her. Her safety is a concern."
There was a faint edge of contempt in his voice, and it didn't go unnoticed.
Minato froze, stunned by the implication. An uneasy silence followed as he stood there, unsure of how to respond.
Should he try to insist that he wasn't that kind of person?
Even if he did, it would be useless; the evidence against Jiraiya was undeniable, and by association, so was the shadow it cast over him. Even if he was freed from the prison… that didn't mean the stigma didn't remain. Even if he wanted to defend himself, he didn't know how.
"Tell you what…" the ANBU said, his gaze flicking briefly to the pot of soup in Minato's hands. "We'll deliver this to her and pass along your concern. You can leave that to us. But meeting her… I'm afraid that's not possible."
Minato's shoulders slumped helplessly.
If this had been Uzumaki Naruto instead of Namikaze Minato, perhaps he would have fought his way through just to see Kushina, to make sure she was alright. But Minato couldn't do that. For one, the guards were ANBU; fighting them would be tantamount to treason.
Well, unless you were Uchiha Kanzou.
Still, ANBU were sworn to the Hokage's command. If they were forbidding him from seeing her, then it must have been under the Hokage's orders. The thought that something might be wrong with the ANBU didn't even cross his mind. After all, these were elite shinobi, loyal, disciplined, and trusted implicitly.
So, despite his unease, Minato could only accept their decision. With a quiet sigh, he held out the pot.
"Please… take care of Kushina," he said softly.
The ANBU operative took the pot from him and nodded. "Don't worry, we'll take care of her, just as we were ordered to."
Minato gave a faint nod, the weight in his chest tightening. "I understand…"
With that, he turned away, leaving quietly despite the heaviness pressing down on his heart.
After Namikaze Minato left, the ANBU operative turned toward Kushina's house, quietly opening the door and stepping inside.
The interior was dim, shadows clinging to the walls, but he moved with the ease of someone already familiar with the layout. His footsteps made almost no sound as he approached the bedroom. He knocked once—lightly.
Knock!
No response.
Without hesitation, he pushed the door open and entered.
Inside, by the window, sat Kushina, knees drawn tight to her chest, arms wrapped around them as though she were trying to make herself smaller… or perhaps disappear entirely.
"Kushina-sama," the ANBU operative called softly, but she didn't respond. She didn't even look at him, only sat there in silence.
He stepped closer. "Namikaze Minato came by to check on you," he said.
At that, Kushina's shoulders trembled, and she slowly turned her head toward him.
"I turned him away, of course," the ANBU said, stepping closer. He crouched and placed the pot of soup gently before her. "But he did leave this behind. You should eat it, you haven't had anything since morning."
Kushina stared at the pot on the floor for a long moment, her gaze empty and unmoving.
After setting it down, the ANBU operative straightened and said evenly, "I'll be outside if you need anything."
With that, he turned and left the room, the quiet click of the door leaving Kushina alone, with only herself and the untouched pot of soup.
She kept staring at the pot of soup for a long time, her gaze empty and unfocused. Then, slowly, her lips began to tremble, just slightly at first, and before she knew it, tears were spilling down her cheeks in an unending stream.
"I… I don't deserve your kindness, Minato-kun…" she whimpered, her voice trembling. "I'm… too dirty… too violated… too shameful to deserve your kindness…"
Burying her face in her knees, she began to shake uncontrollably…
"Nine-Tails… why… why won't you let me die…!" Kushina choked out, her voice raw and trembling as she spoke to the fox sealed within her.
Earlier, she had plunged the kunai through her own heart, desperate to end her suffering, the only escape she could see. But the bastard tailed beast inside her had refused to let her die, healing the wound before death could claim her.
But no answer came.
When the silence stretched too long, she tried again, louder this time. "Nine-Tails!"
Only her own ragged breathing answered, uneven, trembling, catching in her throat.
Then came the voice she hated, a low, rumbling laugh echoed through her mind.
"Didn't I tell you, girl?" the beast growled. "I'm going to enjoy watching you suffer, that's my revenge. Why would I let you die so easily? Wouldn't that be far too kind? You're the one who's kept me imprisoned, after all. So it's only natural that I make sure you continue to suffer. No matter how many times you try to kill yourself… I'll keep you alive."
Hearing those cruel words, Kushina's despair only deepened. The realization struck her like ice; she didn't even have the autonomy to die. No matter what she did, no matter how much she wanted to escape… she couldn't.
Her tears flowed harder, shoulders trembling, nails dug into her knees blood rising beneath her skin as she cried out, "Why… why… why… what did I ever do to deserve this…? It wasn't me who sealed you inside me, it was the adults! If you want revenge, take it out on them! Why won't you just let me die…? I'm even willing to release you… just go, you're free… please, just let me die already… I can't take it anymore… I just want it to end… all of it to end…"
She kept pleading, her voice breaking with every word, but the fox gave no reply this time.
Its silence only made her despair twist into rage, her tears burning hot as they streamed down her face.
"Talk to me, Nine-Tails! ANSWER ME!" she screamed, voice cracking as her throat burned. "Say something, anything! Don't just stay silent, damn fox…!"
The fox stayed silent, completely unmoved.
Kushina bit her lip hard, so hard that blood welled up, streaking down her chin, but she didn't care.
"Nine-Tails… NINE-TAILS!" she screamed more, voice breaking as it echoed through the small house.
Her cries were loud enough for the ANBU outside to hear, but none of them moved.
Even as she kept shouting, pleading for some kind of answer from the fox, the silence persisted, heavy, merciless, and absolute.
At last, her voice cracked into hoarse whispers. Her strength gave out.
"Ni…ne-tails… why… just… let me…" she sobbed, tears spilling down her face again.
She stayed like that for a long while, crying until the tears gave way to anger, raw, unrestrained rage.
Her fists slammed against the floor. Bang. Again. Bang. And again. Each strike echoed through the quiet bedroom, shaking the small bowl beside her until droplets of soup spilled over the rim.
Finally, she paused. Breathing ragged, "Haaah… haaah…" she pushed herself up.
Her foot hit the bowl, sending it tumbling across the floor. The soup spilled everywhere, spreading in a steaming puddle. Kushina stared at it for a long moment, Minato's kindness, now splattered and wasted by her own leg. Guilt flickered briefly in her chest, but it was swallowed by rage.
She tore her gaze away, crossing the room with heavy steps that splashed through the spilled soup. Reaching a shelf, she pulled out a particular scroll. Kneeling, she placed it on the floor, formed the hand signs, and released the seal before unfolding it.
"Haah… haah… this is it…" she whispered, eyes burning.
It was the Scroll of Shiki Fūjin.
Her breath quickened, coming in short, uneven gasps as she read it.
The technique demanded a terrible price, yet Kushina, who already wanted to die, hardly cared. She welcomed the cost; if it meant ending the two demons in her life and herself, it was worth it.
"This will end it all. I'll take you both down with me, bastard Uchiha Kanzou, damned Nine-Tails. I'll seal you away and make you suffer."
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Drop Power Stonessssssssss!
[Read up to 60+ Chapters in advance on P atreon at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]