It was midsummer in July. Even at night, the heat still lingered heavily over Konoha.
Kushina Uzumaki sat in her room wearing a thin white silk nightgown. The warm lamplight shimmered across the fabric, faintly outlining her graceful form. Her fiery red hair spilled down her shoulders like a burning waterfall, and her cheeks were flushed — partly from embarrassment, partly from anger.
Across from her sat Mikoto Uchiha, looking uneasy.
"At first, I couldn't refuse his request," Mikoto admitted softly, glancing down. "But later... I realized it wasn't as simple as I thought."
Kushina's eyes narrowed. "Mikoto…"
She was torn between disbelief and irritation. If Mikoto wanted excitement, fine but why drag her into it?
Before she could respond, a voice rumbled inside her mind — the deep, disdainful tone of the Yin Nine-Tails sealed within her mind space.
"Hmph. Humans and their endless drama. Isn't this just about emotions and attraction? Why so much fuss? Just face it already."
The fox's tone dripped with mockery. This particular half of Kurama had never followed Minato into the Shinigami's stomach, and so held no warmth toward either of Kushina's late husband or her.
In fact, the creature almost enjoyed provoking her, especially when it meant seeing her lose her composure.
Kushina clenched her fists. Her consciousness shifted into the inner space of the Edo Tensei seal, facing the great fox directly.
"What would a stinky fox like you know?" she shouted, hands on her hips, red hair flaring around her like a blaze.
Kurama cracked open one crimson eye and sneered. "What do I know? More than you think. You and your husband could never hide anything from me. Even your fancy Uzumaki seals can't block my perception."
That smug grin did it. Chakra flared around Kushina, her Adamantine Sealing Chains bursting forth like glowing golden serpents. The chains wrapped around Kurama's tails, limbs, and snout, binding him tight. Then, with a flick of her will, she slammed him back and forth like a rag doll.
The Nine-Tails roared in protest, but it was useless. Kushina was in perfect health, her sealing power unmatched, and the Yin half of the beast possessed only half its original strength. Resistance was futile.
When she finally stopped, the fox lay groaning, and Kushina exhaled sharply as some of her anger finally gone.
Returning to the real world, she looked at Mikoto with narrowed eyes. "From now on, you're not allowed to transform into me anymore."
Mikoto bit her lip. "I… I don't think I can refuse him outright," she admitted. "And even if I don't, he could always ask someone else to transform instead."
"There is a difference," Kushina said firmly. "You're the one who knows me best. You're the most convincing."
Mikoto looked away. "That's exactly why I can't say no."
Kushina groaned, ruffling her hair. "That infuriating man! Out of all the women in the village, why does he keep doing this with my image?"
"I actually asked him that once," Mikoto said quietly. "He gave me a strange answer… and even quoted a poem."
Kushina blinked. "A poem?"
Mikoto nodded, reciting softly:
"You were born when I was not,
I was born when you were old.
You hate that I was born late,
I hate that you were born early."
"He said if he had been born ten years earlier, maybe there wouldn't have been any Fugaku or Minato between us."
Kushina stared at her, speechless. "That man…"
At twenty-eight, she had never expected anyone to say something like that to her again...much less him.
Mikoto gave a small, rueful smile. "He meant it, you know. He has a strange way of showing it, but his feelings are genuine."
Kushina sighed deeply, torn between exasperation and reluctant understanding. "Sometimes I really want to punch him."
"Then do it," Mikoto said with a teasing grin. "Tomorrow. I'll even cheer you on."
Kushina laughed despite herself. "You're supposed to stop me, not encourage me."
"I'm on your side," Mikoto said simply. "Always."
The tension between them softened. The two women, longtime friends and sisters-in-arms, exchanged a look that said more than words ever could, a mix of loyalty, frustration, and shared memories.
"Honestly," Kushina muttered, shaking her head, "between the fox, the seals, and now this drama… I'm so done."
Mikoto chuckled. "Maybe you just need to unwind. You're always carrying the world's weight on your shoulders."
"Unwind?" Kushina raised an eyebrow. "With you, that usually ends with sparring holes in my walls."
"Then let's spar," Mikoto challenged lightly, rising to her feet. "It's been a while. Let's see who's stronger now."
"Fine!" Kushina grinned, her temper already melting into competitive fire. "But don't cry when you lose!"
Their playful energy filled the room. A few moments later, the two kunoichi were darting back and forth across the floor, exchanging quick strikes and laughter.
It was half sparring, half therapy, a release of built-up tension.
Mikoto's movements were precise and fluid, her Sharingan eyes reading every twitch of muscle. Kushina countered with raw power and sealing techniques, her chains shimmering like gold ribbons in the air.
Eventually, they collapsed side by side on the bed, breathless and laughing.
"You've gotten better," Kushina admitted.
"Maybe you've just gotten rusty," Mikoto teased.
"Ha! As if."
For a moment, they lay there in comfortable silence, listening to the summer cicadas outside the window.
Then Kushina suddenly sat up. "Wait. Naruto's room is next door."
She quickly formed hand seals and raised a soundproofing barrier around the room. "There. No eavesdropping from my son tonight."
Mikoto smiled faintly. "Always the careful mother."
Kushina shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Force of habit."
The two friends exchanged another look; this time one of quiet understanding. So much had changed since their youth, and yet, some things never did: their bond, their stubbornness, their shared sense of strength.
The night passed peacefully.
And though she had vowed to confront Uchiha Gen the next day, when morning came… Kushina didn't.
Maybe it was the laughter, or maybe the exhaustion, but for once, she decided to let things go.
At least, for now.