Bang, bang, bang.
Winter weather in Konoha could change without warning.
It had started snowing before dawn, and by morning the world outside the window had turned into a clean, blinding white. The roofs, the trees, the streets, all of it buried under thick layers, as if the village had been quietly wrapped in cotton.
Yami rarely overslept.
But today, for once, he did.
No predawn run. No silent stretching routine. No cold wind cutting into his lungs while he forced his body awake.
A lazy morning.
A luxury.
And that luxury lasted right up until the front door tried to break itself off its hinges.
Bang, bang, bang.
The pounding was so loud the entire small western style house could hear it. Along with it came a girl's voice, sharp and furious, echoing through the hallway like a thrown kunai.
"Yami, you bastard! You stood me up! Open the door!"
Still half asleep, Yami sat up. For a split second the thought of dumping a bucket of freezing water from the second floor balcony felt like the most beautiful idea he had ever had.
He resisted.
Barely.
He dragged himself out of bed, walked downstairs, and pulled the door open.
The moment he saw who it was, the last bit of irritation evaporated.
Not because she was quiet.
She was not.
Not because she was reasonable.
She was not.
But because the sight of her was so ridiculous his brain could not stay angry.
He leaned against the doorframe, eyes traveling over her outfit, then he exhaled a short, amused breath.
"Why are you dressed like that?"
In front of him stood Kushina, glaring hard enough to set the snow on fire.
She wore gloves. A thick winter coat. A scarf. A hat.
And every single piece was red.
Her long red hair had been tied up into a cute bun, but it only made her look even more like a walking vegetable. Add her round cheeks, now flushed a deep pink from the cold, and the overall effect was devastating.
A human tomato.
A self propelled tomato.
Her eyes narrowed.
"If you laugh, I'll hit you!"
She raised her pink gloved fist like a warning bell. The gesture was fierce, but her face was too red to be convincing. It was hard to tell whether the redness came from the cold or embarrassment.
Yami's lips twitched.
He could not decide if this was Tsunade messing with her, or if Kushina had done it on purpose.
Either was possible.
After all, she had not experienced the original bullying. The nickname tomato was no longer a wound for her. Yami had called her that more than once, and he had even openly said he liked tomatoes as food, which somehow made her treat it like a compliment rather than an insult.
Kushina noticed the look in his eyes and immediately puffed up like an angry cat.
"Stop staring and answer me! Why did you stand me up today?"
"Stand you up?" Yami tilted his head, expression blank. "Did I make a promise to you?"
For one second, Kushina froze.
Then her face turned even redder.
"You did!" she snapped, voice rising. "Yesterday you agreed I could train with you. You always go to the usual place in the morning. I waited there for two hours!"
Yami stared.
His brain took a few seconds to catch up.
Then his eyes widened slightly, like he was witnessing a natural disaster created by pure stupidity.
"You're an idiot."
"What did you say?"
Kushina leaned forward, baring her teeth like a small dog ready to bite.
In that instant, Yami became one hundred percent certain Naruto's idiot genetics came directly from her.
He rubbed his forehead.
"Come inside."
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her across the threshold before she could argue. Snowflakes scattered onto the wooden floor as she stumbled in, still huffing with anger.
He opened the shoe cabinet, pulled out a pair of slippers, and tossed them onto the floor in front of her.
"Change. Then come upstairs."
Then he turned and walked away, leaving her in the entryway.
Kushina brushed snow off her coat and stepped into the slippers.
Then she blinked.
The size fit perfectly.
That made her pause.
She looked down again, then looked at the shoe cabinet like it had betrayed her pride.
Curious, she opened it.
Inside were only two pairs of adult slippers.
No child sizes.
Which meant the pair she was wearing had been bought specifically for her.
Kushina's lips began to curl upward, and the anger that had been burning in her chest melted in an instant, like snow touching a warm stone.
Her annoyance did not disappear.
It transformed.
It turned sweet.
Like biting into something filled with honey.
"Idiot," she muttered quietly, but her tone sounded nothing like insult. "You even prepared slippers for me and still never say anything. You're so annoying."
She crossed her arms, tried to look serious, then failed when her cheeks lifted again.
"Only I can put up with your personality. You should be secretly grateful."
She walked upstairs with lighter steps than she would ever admit.
When she reached the living room, she found Yami heating water.
The small kettle hissed softly, steam rising.
He did not even look up.
"Sit. Wait. I'm going to wash up."
Kushina dropped onto the couch, watching him move around the kitchen area with that irritating calm of his. It was the kind of calm that made her want to throw something at his head and also keep staring at him for no reason.
Left alone, she began to look around the house.
It was not a traditional compound like the ones she was used to.
In Uzushio, important families lived in old style buildings that carried the weight of history, status, and rigid rules. Even in Konoha, the place she was staying now had the unmistakable feeling of a clan residence, built to remind everyone who owned it.
This house was different.
Western style.
Compact, but warm.
A place that felt like it belonged to a person, not a family symbol.
For normal civilians, it was already luxurious.
For a shinobi family, it spoke of something else.
It spoke of how much value high ranking shinobi really held.
His parents had been jōnin.
And this was proof.
Kushina's curiosity kept rising. She wondered what Yami's life had been like here, alone, in a house that still smelled faintly like an older family memory.
Before her thoughts went too far, Yami returned.
He placed a cup of hot water on the table in front of her.
The warmth fogged the air.
He sat down across from her.
Only then did he speak.
"Next time you don't see me there, come here. Don't stand outside freezing like an idiot."
He added, almost amused now.
"And it's snowing. Even little kids know not to go out. What were you thinking?"
Kushina narrowed her eyes, offended.
"I know that."
She leaned back, arms crossed, her expression turning smug.
"I just didn't expect you, of all people, to be lazy. You're obsessed with training. You train like it's your religion. I thought you'd be there even if the village caught fire."
Yami's smile froze for a fraction of a second.
For once, his face showed a rare trace of embarrassment.
Because she was right.
This was the first time he had broken his routine in years.
Since he was three.
A record so long it almost felt like part of his identity.
But yesterday, he had made a decision.
He had burned his past.
He had decided to stop living like a machine.
So today he let himself sleep.
And Kushina had crashed head first into that change.
Yami coughed lightly.
"Training doesn't always require going outside."
He stood up before she could push further.
Kushina watched him disappear into a room, then frowned, suspicious.
A moment later he returned holding several bags.
He set them down.
Inside were balloons.
Kushina blinked.
She stared at them.
Then she stared at him.
"You brought out balloons. What are you going to do with those? Don't tell me you train with balloons."
"Correct."
Yami's eyes gleamed faintly, the way they always did when he was about to do something reckless.
He looked at her with that calm, irritating confidence.
"This vacation, I'm going to teach you a technique I developed."
Kushina's mouth fell open.
"A technique you developed?"
The words hit her harder than a punch.
Because in her mind, techniques were invented by geniuses in books and history, not by the boy sitting in front of her with balloons like a strange prank.
Yami did not explain further yet.
He simply let the weight of it sit between them.
Because this was the first day of his new life.
And he had decided to start it with selfishness.
He was tired of calculating every step like a strategy scroll.
Tired of waiting for perfect timing.
Tired of pretending everything he did was accidental.
He wanted something.
So he would do it.
He was going to teach Kushina the Rasengan.
He did not care what complications it might cause later.
He did not care what political ripples might spread through the village.
Because the signs were already clear.
Months had passed.
Mito had not sent anyone to warn him away from Kushina.
Hiruzen had not stopped him from getting close.
That meant he had been recognized.
Maybe still under observation.
Maybe still being judged.
But recognized.
And with those two mountains standing behind him, Danzō, not yet fully grown into his future claws, could only watch with jealousy.
Yami still needed to hide one thing.
His spacetime power.
That remained untouchable.
That remained the core secret.
But everything else?
Training.
Growth.
Building Kushina into someone terrifying.
He could finally stop holding back.
Yami picked up a balloon.
He rolled it between his fingers, watching it stretch slightly under pressure.
Then he looked at Kushina again.
"You wanted to train with me, right?"
Kushina sat up straighter, eyes bright, curiosity and stubbornness mixing together like fuel.
"Hurry up and teach me."
Yami's lips curved.
"Fine."
He tossed the balloon toward her.
"Start with this. If you can't do this, you don't get to complain later."
Kushina caught it, still confused.
"A balloon?"
"Yes."
Yami leaned forward slightly, voice calm, but carrying a pressure that made it feel like a command.
"Put chakra into it. Not too much. Not too little."
Kushina's brow furrowed.
"You're serious."
"I'm always serious."
She puffed up, offended, then gripped the balloon harder.
"Watch me. I'll do it easily."
Yami watched her.
And for the first time since burning his diary, he felt something light in his chest.
Not relief.
Not satisfaction.
Something closer to freedom.
The first day of his new life had begun with him being selfish.
And he did not regret it.
(End of Chapter)
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