Qianyu couldn't wait to get back to Konoha.
It was always like this. The only time he could see Kushina Uzumaki was that small window right after a mission ended. A stolen moment.
Things had changed a bit. Kushina, under Mito's tutelage, had learned some sealing arts. Three months ago, Mito had finally allowed her to start taking missions.
But of course, due to Kushina's importance, her assignments were strictly within the Land of Fire.
The result? In the past eight months, the number of times Qianyu had actually laid eyes on her could be counted on one hand.
Even now, returning to the village didn't guarantee a meeting. But hope was a stubborn thing. The mere possibility made him smile. He pushed harder, chakra flaring, speeding through the forest toward home.
Konoha.
Kushina Uzumaki stepped out of the Hokage Building, another mission complete.
She rubbed her sore neck with a sigh. This shinobi life was nothing like she'd imagined.
So far, it had been a relentless grind of mind-numbing, zero-risk D-rank missions with her two assigned teammates. It was stifling. Boring.
"If Qianyu was here…" she muttered to herself, a slight pout on her lips. "Even D-ranks wouldn't be so bad."
With another sigh, she headed for Mito's residence. The sun was already dipping low, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple.
She slid the door open. "I'm home!"
Silence.
She ventured further into the quiet house. "I'm back? Grandma Mito?"
Still nothing.
She paused at the kitchen doorway. "Not here…?" she murmured, her gaze drifting to the window.
Outside, the tree branches were shaking. Oddly. Violently.
Then—three figures filled the window frame.
The Cloud ninja Qianyu had always feared had arrived.
They'd been watching. Waiting. For days. They'd sensed her unique, potent chakra. Now, they'd found their moment.
They poured through the window into the kitchen.
Kushina's eyes went wide. No real combat experience—just training drills. Pure instinct took over. She turned and bolted.
"Help! Someone, help me!" she screamed, voice tearing through the silent house as she ran.
It was useless. Two were Special Jōnin. One was a full Jōnin. They were on her in seconds, a hand clamping over her mouth, another pinning her arms. A quick, efficient takedown.
Minutes later, they were gone from Konoha, a bound and gagged prize in tow.
Forest of the Land of Fire.
Hands tied behind her back, a rough rope around her neck like a leash. Two ninja walked ahead. The third, the leash-holder, walked behind her.
Kushina walked, eyes hollow. Each step took her further from Konoha, closer to the border. The reality was a cold stone in her gut.
Her foot caught a root. She stumbled, falling hard onto the damp earth.
A vicious yank on the rope. It bit into her neck, hauling her upright. "Hey! No slacking! Keep moving!"
Tears blurred her vision. Hidden in her bound hands was the small bell Qianyu had given her. She clenched it, her thumb rubbing the cold metal, giving it the faintest, desperate shake.
Please…
Nothing. The border was so close now. Despair, thick and black, flooded her chest. The thought was a physical pain—sharp, twisting—that she might never see Qianyu again. Ever.
The dam broke. "QIANYU!" she screamed, the name a raw, tearing plea into the darkening woods.
"Shut your mouth!" The ninja behind her snarled, raising a fist.
ZZZT—CRACK!
A sound like tearing silk and thunder split the air.
"Thunder Breathing: Fourth Form… Distant Thunder."
A flash of lightning. A blur of motion too fast to track.
The Cloud ninja's fist never fell. His head simply… left his shoulders. It sailed into the air in a graceful, horrifying arc before thudding to the forest floor.
The other two ninja recoiled, shockwaves of alarm jolting through them. They leaped back, putting distance between themselves and the new threat.
Qianyu stood before Kushina.
His heart clenched at the sight of her—disheveled, terrified, cheeks streaked with dirt and tears. A fury, cold and absolute, ignited in his veins.
He didn't speak. His sword flickered once. The ropes binding her hands fell away, severed clean.
Only then did he move closer. His hand, calloused and steady, came up to cup her face, his thumb gently wiping a tear-track. His voice, when it came, was soft. A stark contrast to the violence of moments before. "I'm sorry, Kushina. I'm late."
She crashed into him, her whole body trembling with violent, shuddering sobs. He held her tight, one arm around her, his other hand still gripping his bloodied sword. The ache in his chest mirrored hers. But his eyes… his eyes were fixed over her shoulder.
On the two remaining Cloud ninja.
The killing intent poured off him, a palpable, freezing wave. It couldn't be contained. It didn't need to be.
With a soft snap, twin tomoe spun to life in his eyes. The Sharingan.
He gently pulled back, guiding Kushina to sit against a thick tree trunk. He kept his voice low, a calm promise. "Wait for me. Just a moment. I'll take you home after this."
Hands formed a single seal. Puff! A cloud of smoke, and the white serpent appeared.
"Guard her," Qianyu ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.
The serpent, sensing the deadly chill in its summoner's tone, didn't joke or complain. It simply coiled protectively around Kushina, a living barrier.
Qianyu turned. He took a slow, deliberate breath. The Thunder Breathing rhythm settled into his bones. His Sharingan locked onto the two Cloud shinobi, analyzing, predicting, marking them for death.
He'd been miles away when he felt it—the faint, frantic chakra pulse from the bell. A spike of pure dread. He knew. He'd pushed his body to the limit, saturating his muscles with crackling lightning chakra, racing against time. His nerves still sang with the aftermath, a dull, insistent burn.
The Cloud Jōnin, Ōyuro, stared at Qianyu's eyes, his initial shock giving way to naked greed. "The Sharingan… The Uchiha's Kekkei Genkai?! Our luck just turned. But this brat… he's not normal. Atui! We take him together!"
The Special Jōnin, Atui, nodded grimly, drawing his blade. "Understood, Captain!"
Both ninja pulled long, wicked-looking tantō from their backs.
"Lightning Style: Severing Flash!" Ōyuro roared. An arc of sizzling electricity shot from his blade. In the same instant, he vanished, reappearing beside Qianyu with his own sword thrusting for the boy's ribs.
Qianyu moved.
"Thunder Breathing: Second Form… Rice Spirit."
Five slashes. Not sequential, but simultaneous. Five forks of lightning erupted from his blade.
CLANG-SHING-SHING-SHING—THUD!
The first strike met Ōyuro's thrust, deflecting it. The next three, Ōyuro parried with frantic, clanging blocks, sparks flying. But the fifth… it got through.
Ōyuro staggered back, looking down at the searing, blackened gash across his chest. His eyes widened in genuine shock. He'd known the kid was fast after seeing his partner die. But feeling it… that was different. If his reflexes had been a hair slower, the second strike would have taken his head.
Qianyu's brow furrowed slightly. He'd felt it too.
He was slower than he should be. The frantic, sustained chakra overload from his desperate sprint had taken its toll. A fine, needle-like pain threaded through his meridians.
No matter.
He adjusted his grip, sinking back into his stance. The rhythm of his breathing deepened.
These two. They weren't leaving this forest alive.
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