"This world has few left who could hope to stand against Madara Uchiha. Even Hashirama Senju, were he alive, would fall before him now. To be honest…" Gamamaru's eyes narrowed, his voice quieted into something almost personal. "…the only one who can do it is you, Lady Kushina. You alone can be the savior of this world."
The air within the ancient temple of Mount Myōboku was thick with the scent of moss and earth, its stone walls etched with ancient patterns that predated even the Sage of Six Paths. The chamber's vastness seemed to swallow sound, leaving Kushina alone with her thoughts.
Gamamaru, the Great Toad Sage, sat on a stone throne. His dull red, wrinkled skin sagged under the weight of his age, yet his squinted eyes burned with a rare lucidity, a stark contrast to his usual senile demeanor.
Kushina Uzumaki stood before him, her blue eyes, sharp with defiance, met Gamamaru's without flinching, though her heart churned with doubt. The battles with the Five Kages and Madara Uchiha, her near-death and Nagato's revival, and the loss of Akagakure weighed heavily on her. She'd come to Myōboku seeking refuge, not to be some kind of hero.
With that thought, she couldn't help but let out a sharp snort, almost a bark of laughter. Savior? Her? The word sounded like a joke, as though fate were mocking her. With all the blood on her hands, how could she possibly be cast in the role of some selfless savior of the world? She had torn villages apart, slaughtered shinobi without remorse, and buried entire clans in fire. If anything, she thought grimly, in this world's history, she was far closer to the villain. She didn't think there was anyone alive with a higher kill count.
Madara wanted to save the world, to sedate it in some kind of infinite dream, where everyone could live happily. She, on the other hand, wanted nothing except her own survival, Kurama's safety, and a place for what remained of her clan. In some ways, she mused, she was worse than him. His intentions, twisted as they were, at least had the greater good of the world in mind. Kushina only cared about herself, and the fox sealed within her.
Well… not only him. The Uzumaki also had a place in her heart. She had fought tooth and nail to preserve them, what little remained. But even then, it wasn't the clan that she clung to. It was Kurama. It had always been Kurama. He was the one presence she couldn't live without.
His voice rumbled in her mind. "He's not wrong about one thing, brat. You're the only one who's gone toe-to-toe with Madara and walked away- twice. Hero or villain, it doesn't matter. You want him dead as much as I do. Let's hear the toad out."
Gamamaru's eyes softened, as if reading her turmoil. "Whether you act out of kindness or self-interest is irrelevant, Lady Kushina. It must be done. The Infinite Tsukuyomi will drain the chakra of every living soul, and resurrect Kaguya Ōtsutsuki- an evil that will spare no one, not your clan, not the Nine-Tails, and not you."
Kushina's lips curled in something that was neither a smile nor a sneer. She had to admit, in this case, self-interest and fate aligned. As the Sage had said, it was in her best interest to defeat Madara. Kaguya's resurrection wouldn't only affect the toads or the shinobi nations- its shadow would reach her clan, her, and Kurama. That, she could not allow. Not to mention the immense, simmering grudge both she and Kurama nursed toward that wretched Uchiha.
She raised her chin, her blood red hair shifting, and answered with confidence she did not bother to disguise. "I have my own plans for defeating Madara. It will be done, one way or another. But my clan and I need a place to lay low for a while- somewhere hidden, and somewhere we can grow strong enough. This sage region is the only suitable choice, dattebane."
She'd considered Ryūchi Cave or Shikkotsu Forest, but a damp cave crawling with snakes or a swamp teeming with slugs held no appeal. They simply didn't measure up to Mount Myōboku's vivid and beautiful landscape.
Gamamaru nodded, his expression unperturbed. "You may stay as long as you wish. As I said before, we ask only one thing- that you stop the Infinite Tsukiyomi. All of our sage arts are open to you. Even our sacred fountain of toad oil."
At that, the chamber trembled with shock. From the back, Shima and Fukasaku nearly gasped aloud, wide eyes darting toward each other. In the past, a handful of mortals had been entrusted with their secrets, but only after long years of loyalty and friendship, and bonds proven by trials and suffering. To offer them freely- especially to a human who had slain Jiraiya, the Toads' chosen pupil- was almost unthinkable. It rubbed raw against their pride and their sense of tradition. But in the presence of the Great Toad Sage, neither dared to voice dissent.
Kushina, too, raised her brows in surprise, though she did not let the astonishment linger long. It was clear the ancient creature wished to avoid angering her. A single misplaced word could make her turn her back, and then Mount Myōboku would face her wrath as an enemy rather than a guest. "Alright," she said at last, her voice quiet but edged with iron. "Then we can get along. Don't make me regret this."
The warning settled over the chamber like a winter wind, chilling each of the three toads. They said nothing, but all three shivered beneath the weight of her words.
With her piece spoken, Kushina turned on her heel and left swiftly, returning to her clan, who waited in the forests below.
Only after the echo of her presence faded did Gamamaru exhale. "Fukasaku, Shima. You are dismissed. I need time to think."
The elder pair hesitated. Clearly, there was something they longed to say, but they swallowed their words and left the chamber silently, vanishing into the reeds outside.
Alone, Gamamaru let his mind sink back into the currents of memory. Again and again, one thread tugged at him, refusing to unravel- the prophecy. The words he had spoken to Jiraiya not long ago.
"The future has changed. The child is not the same as before. This one bore red hair… and fox ears. I fear something has interfered with fate itself."
He remembered Jiraiya's stunned silence and the tremor in his voice when he finally asked, "What... what do you mean, Great Sage? How can that be?"
Gamamaru had only shaken his head, sorrow thick in his ancient voice. "I can't see it clearly. Only a sea of red- so much red. And after the end... I foresaw the end of Mount Myoboku, and the Shinobi World as we know it. Whatever you must do, you must stop this."
At the time, the red hair and fox ears pointed to Kushina and Kurama, the perfect jinchūriki. Her bloody path full of death and destruction seemed to confirm her as the prophecy's harbinger of doom. Jiraiya had believed it, and Gamamaru had agreed, fearing her power.
But now, with Madara's return and the looming shadow of Kaguya, doubt crept into the sage's mind.
Prophecies were fickle things. He had lived through so many that he knew the danger lay not in their mystery, but in the mortal heart that tried to shape them into simple truths. The only thing he knew for certain was that Kushina Uzumaki stood at the heart of it all. Maybe as a villain, maybe- though it seemed unlikely to him still- as a hero.
The danger of the Infinite Tsukiyomi was Madara's, not hers. But could it be she was the one meant to stop it? Could the red sea he had seen be her battle and her fury turned against the Uchiha instead of the world?
The possibility unsettled him, because it demanded he consider her in more than one light. If he clung to the idea of her as a destroyer, he risked making her one by his own hand. That was the peril of prophecy: unwittingly fulfilling it in the actions you take to avoid it.
Gamamaru lowered his eyes, lids drooping with the heaviness of centuries. He was not called Sage for nothing. Longer-lived than even the Tailed Beasts, he had watched empires rise and fall, and collected wisdom through the ages. He knew this much: if he treated her as evil, if he sought to cage her or kill her, then the prophecy might well fulfill itself.
And that, he thought grimly, would be a betrayal of his duties and his people.
He let the silence linger, broken only by the croak of frogs in the distance and the soft rush of a waterfall. Somewhere out in the forests below, Kushina Uzumaki walked among his people, her presence a sign of something grand. But a sign of what, he could not say. Maybe hope, or maybe despair.
But fate spun as it always had, and Kushina Uzumaki was right at the center of it all.