Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Everyone had a favourite colour, that was one of the few things Kamui could be certain of.

Pink, blue, gold, grey, black, or green, everyone had a colour, or maybe even a set of colours that they preferred amongst the plethora of options offered to them. It may change over time, as their aesthetics and sensibilities changed but everyone had a favourite colour.

Kamui had long since decided that her favourite colour was red.

Not just any red though, deep red, like the red of roses, of pomegranates, of the dresses of royalty and of the pigment they sometimes were able to spread across the lips when they were called to serve the daimyō.

That was the red Kamui liked, the red she craved to look at forever.

The red of luxury, of fine things and richness Kamui could only covet but never truly own. Could only gaze at from a distance and cherish whenever it graced her presence.

Pretty, pretty, pretty red.

The type of red that was currently spilling from the daimyōs lips as chaos erupted across the banquet hall.

The daimyō’s wife, the beautiful and young chakusai, was crying next to him, clutching onto her gold robes, and shrieking in horror, blood staining her pristine gown as she scrambled away from the coughing and gargling old man. It was not obvious whether she was crying over him or the current state of her priceless robes.

Panic erupted across the noble advisors, ministers from foreign lands pushing away their still full plates, horror in their eyes and clear in the way their hands trembled. The hired guards ran around, at least ten going to try and assist the daimyō while the other thirty running around the hall as if the perpetrator would suddenly appear if they ran enough laps of the large gold banquet hall.

And Kamui watched them all with calm eyes, a hand reaching out to grab another piece of fruit of the gold platter to her left, a single eyebrow raising in tired ire as one of the running guards knocked it over with the hilt of his katana.

The other concubines continued to shriek, and she could start to feel a headache coming on as it bounced around the caverns of her skull.

Leaning back in her seat, Kamui took a large bite out of the red apple in her hand, her attention finally turning back to the choking daimyō.

Their eyes meet across the banquet hall, the daimyō’s blood shot eyes staring into her calm ones. He tried to choke out words, but to his frantic guards they are nothing but cries for help, the true meaning is lost in the chaos of the banquet hall, the sound of frantic footsteps and horrified screams too busy filling the gold room to take any notice of what the daimyō was actually trying to say, or how calm his favourite concubine seemed to be in the face of such an atrocity.

Kamui tilted her apple towards him in a mockery of acknowledgment, a smile tugging on the side of her lips as the daimyō gurgled and finally slumped onto the table. Around them the shouts continued in volume, a loyal advisor shaking the daimyō as if to wake him from a slumber but to no use, the decrepit man already shaking on the table as the royal doctors rushed forward, murmurs and screams of horror filling the gold room.

With a sigh, she placed the apple back down onto the table in front of her, wiping her juice coated fingertips on the gold embroidered tablecloth and clearing her throat slightly.

Only then, did Kamui begin to scream.

...

Evil, she had learnt very young (too young, too soon), was a simple matter of perspective.

What was vile to one group was forgivable to another, and while the tides of time and knowledge could change morals and perspectives no one could ever escape what they once thought. 

The daimyō has been poisoned! They scream from the hilltops, people gathering around the goddesses temple and praying throughout the night. The daimyō has been poisoned!

By morning, their cries had changed, and their words are a soothing balm to Kamui’s pounding headache.

The daimyō is dead! The daimyō is dead!

Kamui isn’t smart, not like the scholars she’s sometimes asked to serve. The ones that can recite religious passages and compare her to fictional figures she could not ever hope to read about or understand. Nor is she powerful, like the foreign ninja that could control the will of the elements with a flick of their wrists and a single word.

Kamui is a concubine, it is not her place to be powerful or to be smart, it is her place to pretty and pleasing for all that find their way into her bed.

Is it truly her fault that she has always wanted to be more?

Other concubines aspire to be the chakusai, the main wife of the daimyō, a life of luxury, of being able to sit and be pampered, to be guaranteed a bed for the night and all the nights after, never being in threat of being removed once you are old and no longer viable. Kamui didn’t, she saw the woman in that damning crown and saw nothing but a woman in chains, tethered to a decaying aging man for the rest of the existence of her eternal soul.

Kamui wanted more.

Did that simple feature of her make her evil? She didn’t think so.

All Kamui wanted was a better leader for Tea, a true leader that would respect their culture, instead of just consuming all their riches. She wanted the Tea that was written of in ancient texts and poetry, a Tea she could see the foundations of yet never its fullest potential.

Placing down the emerald comb in front of her, Kamui stared at her reflection in the gold rimmed mirror before her.

A concubine is meant to be pretty and pleasing.

Not smart, not powerful, not cunning, not anything truly of worth.

Automatically, Kamui swept her dark hair out of her face, fixing it into the customary courtier updo, not breaking eye contact with her reflection as her hands twisted in practiced muscle memory, sliding the heavy jewelled kanzashi into her hair to keep the style in place. It was only when a heavy-handed knock on the door startled her did, she stop her ministrations, muttering an acknowledgement as she stood, brushing off her customary block mourning robes.

“Come in.” She called out, bowing her head slightly as they entered. “Councilman Banri, good morning.”

“A good morning indeed concubine Kamui.” The older man stated, bowing back, and sitting at the low table she had prepared for his arrival. “A very good morning indeed, I must congratulate you on the effectiveness of your method.”

“It was nothing.” Kamui waved off, preparing his drink with rigid perfectionism. “I have you to thank for the supplies after all.”

“To the new golden age of Tea.” Banri cheered, raising his teacup high and downing it like many minor nobles would down a glass of sake. “And its new rulers, just as soon as the new daimyō is legitimised, there will be no worries Kamui. Tea will prosper just like you wish. Under our rule and our guidance, and the people will live by our pleasures."

Ah, yes.

The problem of that.

“I’m very sorry about this senior councilman, but I’m afraid I cannot allow that.” Kamui hummed softly, delicately placing the pot back onto the low table between them. “There will be a golden age for the Land of Tea, but you do not have a place within it.”

“What do you mean?” Councilman Banri asked, following her ministrations with confused features.

That’s the problem with powerful men, they never seemed to acknowledge any power except their own. Never thought to even consider that anyone could aspire different from their own.

“Do you trust me, councilman?”

“Of course, you have been my strongest support and will be rewarded by being the new crown jewel of the court.”

“See, that is where the problem lies councilman.” Kamui stated, tilting her head as the man stared back at her. “I do not trust you. Ambitious men like you have been nothing but a parasite on Tea’s resources, comforted by palace of a gold while the people suffer beyond its borders.”

She has seen many clever men stumble into her bed the second they were allowed, and comfortable men have lax tongues. They spoke of corruption in the government, of people starving while the court grew fat on the finest meats, of the five great nations looking down on Tea as supposedly the last stronghold of the old religion while its government committed sin every time it opened its mouth.

(Kamui is young, too young when they drag her away because daimyō found her face pleasing to the eye, but she still remembers the horror on her Okaa-sans face as the village burned around them.)

The shouts outside are full of joy, for they no longer come from the court, they come from the people beyond the palace walls, their cries filling the tense silence in Kamui’s room, as if the goddess herself wanted to illustrate her point.

The daimyō is dead! The daimyō is dead!

Tea may not be a great nation, but it is Kamui’s home, and she wishes the very best for it.

And the best for Tea is not councilman Banri, a foreign-born minor noble who spent one night in her chambers and came out with delusions of grandeur and significance.

Men always underestimated civilian women, and disgraced kunoichi for being stronger than them, truly there was no way to win. However, Kamui had been in this position long enough, trained to dance, to smile, to please, and in that Kamui had been taught how to read others. Supposedly, it would be easier to please someone when you can read them, but Kamui had found better application for it.

That’s the problem with men like Banri and the daimyō trusting her, and therefore underestimating her, they never saw the poison she slipped into their drinks.

“A very amusing joke Kamui, now give me the antidote.”

“What part of this are you not getting?” She asked, her eyebrows pinching together as she looked at him in confusion, the councilman coughing into hands lifting his head back to stare in horror at the blood splattered across his fingertips. "I believe I've made myself perfectly clear."

Shooting to his feet, Banri made a move to shout for help, only for more coughing to force the sound only come out as a croak, Kamui stepping in front of him, placing a hand on his chest to stop him running out.

"No thank you Banri." She tutted, applying pressure to his chest until he fell back, blood dripping from his mouth, using his name for the first time. "I'm afraid I cannot have you doing that."

“I loved you, you bitch.” The councilman choked, Kamui resisting the urge to coo in pity as he fell to his knees, choking on his own lungs as the poison did its magic.

“I know, most men do.” She hummed softly, running her hand through his hair as the blood began to bubble in his mouth and spill from his lips, staining the tips of her fingers as she ran her hand across his face. “That’s why this whole thing was so easy.”

The crockery rattled as his hand slumped onto the table, blood seeping into her pristine tablecloth, creating a halo of red as his eyes glazed over, staring vacantly into the distance. Scowling, Kamui openly rolled her eyes at the dramatics of it all, brushing her own bloodstained hands on the tablecloth, seeing as it was already ruined.

Now came the hard part.

Placing her index finger into Banri’s cup, leaning over his dead body to do so, Kamui placed the poison coated finger into her mouth, her other hand fisted into the tablecloth, pulling harshly, her entire set smashing to the floor the sound echoing around the room.

“Councilman Banri? Concubine Kamui?” There was a hesitant knock at the door, likely a passing guard that heard the commotion. “Is everything okay?”

Concubines were pretty, concubines were pleasing, concubines were faithful to the daimyō's every will and wish they will please and smile at every individual the daimyō points to no matter of race, gender, position or alleigance. The concubine was the last individual you'd expect to kill you.

Screaming, Kamui purposefully fell into the door backwards tumbling into hallway, choking on her own breath as a pair of arms shot out to catch her, preventing her back from colliding into the floor. Lifting a trembling finger, Kamui silently pointed into the room, allowing the blood in her mouth to choke her words, collapsing onto her knees, tears dripping down her face.

“Kamui.” The guard tried to reassure her, the female in question sobbing on her knees in the hallway. “Kamui, what happened?”

A pair of leather shoes stepped into her version, muddied with dirt, sand, and blood.

Ninja.

Since when did Tea have ninja roaming the hallways?

Never. Kamui would know, she had read every financial report on the daimyo's desk while he had threaded his hands through the many fabrics of her clothes, memorising where all the expenditures had went, and none of them involved ninja. Only guards, peasants trained from childhood, not ninja, never ninja. Tea had not had its own ninja force since the end of the first warring period.

So why were they here now?

“These people are from Sand.” The guard tried to reassure her, mistaking the dark look in her eyes as fear. “They’re here to escort their noble for the new daimyō selection. I’ve been tasked to escort them. Kamui, what happened here?”

“I-I don’t know.” She stammered pathetically, digging her nails into her palm so more tears sprung into her eyes, staring up at the guard through her eyelashes. “We- we we’re having tea and then all of a sudden he just collapsed and we both started coughing up blood. Oh Goddess, is he okay? I think he ingested more than me…"

“The councilman is dead.” A deep voice said bluntly, Kamui’s eyes shooting up to take in the appearance of the red haired Sand ninja before her. “What poison did you use? Come now, tell me, it’s very obvious this whole thing is staged.”

What?

Kamui hated ninja, they were always told to look underneath the underneath, they always thought themselves better than people like her just because they had some genetic disposition to do some magic tricks.

Her plan did not account for ninja.

“Kamui isn’t a ninja.” The guard said, jumping to her defence as she stared at the floor, trying desperately to regain her composure and her control over the situation. “She’s not some crazy or cunning kunoichi you lot get in Sand. She’s just a concubine and she’s been poisoned! Where would she even have gotten it anyway? The concubines are constantly monitored with what they buy and who they interact with.”

Damned ninja.

The Sand ninja did not look as if he was convinced, but stepped back regardless, Kamui clinging to the guards uniformed, staring at the floor as she grimaced at the taste of blood in her mouth.

“Kamui, was it?”

Blinking away the daze, she looked up, registering the sight of one of the hired kunoichi in front of her. Nodding in agreement, she openly narrowed her eyes at the neon green mist surrounding the woman’s hands, flinching back when she went to reach for her.

“Don’t be scared.” The kunoichi reassured, the horror on the concubine's face now very real as she stared at the twisting mist that clung to the woman’s muscular hands. “It’s just healing chakra, it isn’t going to hurt you.” Coughing, Kamui felt the blood drip down her chin, the ninja reaching for her throat while she was distracted. “Minor poison exposure, its corroding her throat but wasn’t ingested enough to reach her lungs. She’ll live.”

“Kamui,” The guard said, entering her line of vision once more as he looked down on her in concern. “Do you have any idea who could of done this to you and Councilman Banri?”

Staring at the floor, Kamui allowed her hair to fall into her eyes, resisting the smirk that was fighting its way onto her face.

“The poison is the same we suspected killed the daimyō.” The red haired ninja said flatly, as if it was just another fact and not something that had killed two people. “Whoever did this likely killed the daimyō as well.”

If she knew the whole set up was going to be this easy Kamui would’ve done it much sooner.

“The… the chakusai…” She made her hesitation obvious, eyes darting between her three spectator, choosing to remain on the floor while the two ninja stared down at her. “The chakusai gave me the tea, she said it was a-a gift once she knew Banri would come and see me… you don’t think that-”

She cut herself off, coughing loudly into her hands, a beautiful array of red droplets smattering like stars across her hands.

“The chakusai killed the daimyō.” The kunoichi concluded, standing up from her kneeling position and staring at her teammate. “Councilman Banri was a favourite for the position, and the chakusai rules every second there is not a daimyō in power. She may have wanted to disrupt the event and keep herself in charge of Tea.”

Well, that would’ve been a brilliant conclusion, if the chakusai wasn’t thicker than two planks of wood and more concerned with gold than any legitimate power she could wield.

Looking up, Kamui caught the eye of the red haired Sand ninja, noting how he was staring down at her almost accusingly. Kamui stared back, putting on her best horrified face.

You may suspect something, but no one will listen to you once they find the poison in the chakusai’ s quarters.

Kamui would know, she was the one that planted it there.

…

"Tea will prosper with this knew alliance with Iron." The man was speaking, but Shino could barely hear him through the blood rushing in her ears. "An alliance with Iron with best, and we will trade only with Iron and in turn they will favour and support us. The practices of this land are outdated, and the practices of the mainland are more beneficial to this modern world. Do you want them to see you as savages? No! The old religion is behind us and a new era of wonderful new oppurtunities awaits."

"May the rabbit goddess smite him where he stands." A fellow concubine muttered lowly, Kamui humming in agreement, though inside she was shaking with fury.

What?

No.

No.

This wasn’t what was meant to happen.

They were meant to be diplomatic, to better themselves for Tea.

The council was meant to be wise, yet all Kamui saw before her were foreign power-hungry liars that would suck out the life and moral purity from the very core of Tea. That had been Kamui’s plan, that was how this was meant to go, everything else had been followed to the letter and yet at the most crucial stage her luck ran out. Clenching her teeth, Kamui resisted the urge to scream as she pushed through the crowd of handmaidens and fellow concubines, glaring at the back of the official that was speaking.

This wasn’t how this was meant to go.

They were meant to see, they were meant to understand the plight of the people after the death of a tyrant. The country was meant to reform. That was the plan. That was what happened in all the tales the scholars told her so why was it not happening now?

This wasn’t right.

All these men spoke of his how they could use Tea’s resources, many of them foreign born minor nobles with hunger for some real power in their eyes, others members of the previous court that were practically salivating at the though of taking up the seat while in the same breath wailing about the loss of such a kind daimyō. They spoke of their influence in foreign lands, the ninja they could hire to protect them.

But they didn’t understand that tea wanted none of that.

These men promised prosperity but the prosperity came at the price of Tea’s religion. Letting go off their title as the last stronghold of the old ways. These people, the crowd of the ordinary folk below, the had prayed throughout the night to that old religion for Tea’s prosperity and here these men were besmirching it in front of their very eyes.

If Kamui had her way, she would ask the rabbit goddess in the moon to come down this very moment and rid her of these slobbering fools.

The parasites were still speaking beginning to argue amongst themselves and nothing of actual merit was being done.

Kamui could not let this continue, not in good conscience not after everything she had done to get this far. The months of planning, the months of commitment, the nights spent filled with prayers and preparation for what was to be done.

“Objection!” She screamed out, slipping through the guards, and standing on the edge of the balcony, catching the eye of the overseer as she ripped the black veil away from her eyes, customary for all the concubines who were still mourning the loss of their ‘loving daimyō’. “Objection to the proceedings.”

Kamui is a concubine, meant to be pretty and pleasing.

There is nothing pleasing about her in this moment, not with blood still on her tongue, and fury in her eyes. Black had never been Kamui’s colour, she was more personally inclined to red.

Kamui had done too much, planned too much, and risked her own life too much for these men to put all her efforts down the drain.

“Anyone can speak in these proceedings, no?” She asked, tugging her arm back from the grip of a guard when one tried to gently remove her from the stage. “Regardless of gender, or position anyone in the court can speak?”

“Of course, Tea prides itself on equality and diplomacy.” The overseer nodded, staring at her in confusion. “Anyone from the court is allowed to put their name forward to be considered the next power, especially now with such a hole in our integral powers.”

The worst mistake the daimyō ever made was allowing scholars into Kamui’s bed, smart men always liked other people to know how smart they were. They just never expected Kamui to actually be taking in what they said.

“Then I want to put my name forward.” She said, swallowing around the fear ravaging her throat. “I want to be considered.”

“And what does the favoured concubine have to say?” The overseer asked as she stepped onto the podium, her stomach churning as she registered just how high the palace balcony was from the crowds below.

One little push and it was all over.

Swallowing around her fear, Kamui turned to the crowd, nervously eyeing the symbols scratched into the stand that made her voice louder.

“People of Tea, this week we have faced nothing but tragedy and betrayal.” Her voice boomed across the air, amplified by the symbols in front of her, trying to keep the shock off of her face while the crowd below stared up at her, many of them glancing between themselves in confusion of who she was and why she was speaking.

Why was Kamui speaking?

She had nothing to offer these people, she may have been the one to rid them of the daimyō, but they could never know that, and she could never admit it. She did not have the qualifications of a scholar, the power of a ninja, or the wealth of a son of a noble from one of the great nations on the mainland.

But she did have something all the parasites behind her didn’t.

She loved Tea.

She has grown up on the ancient religions and customs of this island and knew far more than any of these foreign parasites ever could know or ever bother to learn.

If you want a job done properly, then you may as well do it yourself.

“We are known for our tea houses, we are known for being a beautiful land filled with rolling hills and bright colours. We are known for being small, quiet, and diminutive. These foreign powers wish to take Tea for their own gain, they wish to chip away at our traditions and our position, simply because they cannot fit our traditions, the traditions that keep our land beautiful, into their own life. Tea has provoked no one. Tea wishes to provoke no one. Yet, these foreign officials,” with this she gestured wildly towards the men behind her, the crowd below starting to shift and talk to each other, mumbles of agreement filling the air, “they seek to suck out the very soul of Tea like some form of parasite.”

“Objection!” A voice shouted behind her, turning to see an older man glaring at the overseer of the proceedings, gesturing wildly to the ninjas next to him. A minor nobleman from Sand if his facial markings and tan where anything to go off of.  “Get the whore off of the stage!”

“I’m seventeen!” Kamui screamed back, turning on her heel to stare back at the man decked out in more luxuries than she could ever afford. “And I’m not a whore, I’m a concubine. On the mainland I am not even old enough to do this profession. You seek to profit off of Tea and yet you do not understand our customs.”

“Your objection is denied.” The overseer decided, nodding for Kamui to continue. “With the daimyō in eternal slumber in the arms of the goddess and the chakusai disgraced, Kamui holds the highest seat of current legitimate power with her position as the daimyō’s favoured concubine. Please continue Kamui.”

Oh.

No one had told her that.

Before her eyes, the men quietened under her stare, glancing at each other and the floor. Silenced when they realised just who they had spoken to.

Perhaps that is why they did not tell her, because if Shino did not speak up it would be presumed, she was agreeable to the proceedings, making her sway over the matter null.

They had not wanted her interfering.

But by doing that they had forced her hand.

“If these foreign men will not freely give their support, then Tea does not need them. We are the last nation to cling to old traditions and when we die these traditions will die with us.” Shouts of protest filled the air from the crowd below, at least five individuals had taken to praying. “If they do not supply food from their farms, Tea will make its own. If they do not supply metal, then Tea will take our own bounties elsewhere. If they do not supply care for all of Tea, then Tea itself shall learn medical care so we look after our own.” Kamui took in a deep breath, a few in the crowd still looked uncertain. “If they do not supply protection, then Tea will create its own ninja force. Why have we let officials from foreign lands filled with ninja tell us that we cannot do the same. The question you need to be asking these corrupt men tonight is why they leave Tea without protection, unless it is the one that they provide?” Kamui turned fully back to the officials, councilmen, advisors and daimyō prospects, the crowd yelling their agreements and accusations at them.

None of them are worthy enough.

But she was.

She had read the financial reports, she knew the weaknesses in their expenditure, she knew the culture, she knew the religious practices, she knew the history. She knew the glorious place Tea used to be and she saw the potential in what it could be. They were away from the mainland, untarnished by the constant skirmishes and tension that plagued them, they had the resources, they had the output, the only reason they were not great was because men like this used the money to only better themselves.

“I believe it’s time for to leave.” She states without room for argument, and the shock on their faces and the noise of the crowd cheering loud enough to drown out her own thoughts is almost worth the years she has spent under their control.

No one notices the plant like creature slip back into the shadows of the palace, it’s yellow eyes fixed on the woman on the podium.

Chapter Text

When the foreign ninja and failed prospects have all finally left, Kamui climbed the steps to the Rabbit Goddess’ temple, two guards trailing behind her, staying at a respectful distance, each of them carrying a torch in their hand, the crown of the daimyō heavy on her head.

Signalling for the guards to open the grand doors for her, Kamui looked over to survey the flickering lights of Tea below, the temple doors groaning as they opened, the guards holding them wide as she walked through, eyes surveying the familiar comforting architecture.

The entire temple was white, both porcelain and marble, Kamui’s deep red kimono like a blood stain on the spotless temple. Pillars of white supporting the room, while tapestries depicting the tragic tale of the goddess, betrayed by her loved ones and trapped within the moon. On the other side of the temple, the statue of the goddess stood, its porcelain features staring over their heads, a single hand reaching out.

At the feet of the giant statue lay the offerings, bundles of incense, pennies, food, and scrolls, faint imprints of blood resting on the feet of the statue from where people had nothing left to offer but themselves, when they leave the temple maids will clean everything, starting again for a new day under a very new ruler.

Stopping in front of the statue, Kamui fell to her knees, her head bowed low and her hands clasped in front of her, the guards stepping back leaving her to pray.

Rulers before her had waved off the tradition, stating that a powerful ruler needed to bow to no one, not even a goddess. Yet Kamui kneeled in front of the statue, breathing out slowly and closing her eyes.

A tradition of Tea no longer passed by, Kamui accepted the ornate dagger the guard brought forward, pressing the blade against the skin of her palm, raising her head to stare at the ethereal face of the goddess, slicing her palm. Blood dripped from the gaps in her fingertips, but she made no sound of pain, pressing her bloody palm on the marble carved robes of the goddess.

“I pray for the prosperity of Tea under my rule.” She murmured, too low for the guards to hear. “I pray for the revitalisation of our culture, of our people, of our lands. I beg for the forgiveness of the goddess for the crimes I committed to get her, and I beg for her favour. I beg for her everlasting kindness. I pray for her patient guidance as I lead Tea to a new age.” She paused for a moment drawing her hand back, as her blood stained handprint dried against the marble. “May the goddess smile upon us-”

“And we will bask in her radiance.” Another voice spoke up, Kamui stumbling to her feet, launching herself from the floor, a guard immediately coming to her side, his sword already drawn while the other scanned the area.

“Show yourself to the daimyō of Tea.” He called out, grip tight against his sword.

“We will.” A voice called out, similar to the first but not quite the same. “But, I’m afraid it will not be in front of you.”

At those words, both of the guards froze, their eyes glazing over as if put under a spell. Looking closely, Kamui could see the symbols glowing faintly on the back of their necks, narrowing her eyes in curiosity as she surveyed the room.

“You put my guards under the compelling force of your whim.” She called out, stepping away from them with a faint frown. “You must be very determined to speak with me.”

“We are daimyō, we have a message from Mother.” The darkness replied, Kamui searching the room, trying to catch a glimpse from the origin of the voice.

“And who is your Mother?”

At her question the being slid out of the shadows, rising from the floor to stand before Kamui. One half of it was white while the other was black, the creature clothed in nothing but mouth of a giant venus fly trap that seemed to act like a cocoon for whenever the creature moved. Its lack of clothing did not appear to be an issue however, a quick glance over the creature revealed that it had no visible genitals or other human features except from within its face.

“You beg her for her forgiveness yet do not recognise it when it appears?” The creature replied with its own question. “Your legends speak of me, and yet you do not recognise me on sight?”

“You are the goddess’ will?” She asked, leaning closer to the black half of the creature, the guards either side of her completely still not even seeming to move under the sway of the goddess. “Can she hear me through you?”

“Mother hears all.” The black half of the creature said with a snarl. “Mother knows all. You know daimyō, you are devout to her every being.”

“Oh, how splendid.” Kamui hummed, a slow grin spreading across her face. Reaching out, she placed her hands on either side of the creatures snarling face. “Shush now, no need to snarl, the almighty will of the goddess deigns it necessary to speak to me: why?”

“The world  is rotten, there is nothing but war and strife, innocent people suffering and villages burning on the whims of one individual.”

(Fire is red, red and burning, smoke curling into the black of the star filled night above her head, and Kamui has no time to scream for her parents when the soldier begins to drag her away.)

The creature smiled, the eyes on the dark half wide and manic, while its eye on the white side is saddened, watching her carefully.

“The world is rotten.” The creature continued, taking in the way her eyes had moved to the floor. “And Mother wishes to change it, and she has chosen you to help her.”

Joy in its purest form bubbled in Kamui’s chest, her smile growing and her eyes wide with wonder.

She had been right.

She had the favour of the goddess and she had been right.

Kamui could scream her thanks to the heavens and weep tears of joy: she had been right. She had committed no sin, she was favoured by the goddess for her actions.

“What do I need to do?” She asked leaning forward eagerly, enraptured by what the creature was saying. “How do I aide the goddess?”

“I will remain in the shadows.” The creature stated, smiling back at her. “And when the goddess asks for her tasks, you will answer. For now, if you need our help, you will call for us.”

The smile of the creature is too bright, too knowing, too happy for this to be simply a messenger delivering the whims of a goddess.

It will be months later before Kamui notices this.

For now, she nods eagerly, letting go of the creature and humming in agreement.

“And what should I call out to the winds, if the event arises that I do need your help?”

The creature smiles, and it is not a nice thing.

“You can call me Zetsu.”

…

The first thing Kamui does is return home, no longer tethered to her room on imperial grounds, instead she travels to the far east, the home she could only vaguely remember. They leave the lush lands of the capital, the people stopping to stare as the carrier passed, Kamui waving briefly from where she sat. Eventually they leave the lush land behind, the fields growing yellow and then gey, and then black and then empty.

A frown pulled on her features when the stepped outside, her home filled with nothing but charred remains and the remanent of ash and soot, still staining the land after all these years.

It had been beautiful ones filled with lands full of crops and trees and blossoms and people. That was how Kamui remembered it. To remember the faire that would come every year, she remembered the traditions and the plays they would put on at every festival. The worship, the laughter, the joy, the way her parents would both sing while tended to the crops, the way all the children would dance with the wind and the leaves and sleep listening to the roar of the waves just over the horizon.

Now, none of it remained, only ash and soot all because of the will of one man.

The goddess was right, this world was rotten.

“We told you it wasn’t good ma’am.” The guard murmured, head hung low in the face of her disappointment.

“It had been beautiful before,  why was it not revitalised?” She asked, the ash staining her kimono as she reached out, running her hands along what she was certain used to be a house.

“I could not say ma’am.” The guard answered, averting her eyes when she turned to look at him.

“Take me to the nearest town leader.” She ordered, climbing back into the carrier. “I am certain we will find an answer there.”

…

The door to the hut cracked open when the guard knocked, and older man peeking out through the gap, turning pale at the sight of them.

“You are in the presence, of her grace and majesty Kamui, first of her name. The daimyō and guardian of Tea.” The guard stated, opening his mouth to continue before Kamui raised her hand, waving him off.

“Thank you, be a dear and wait outside while I speak to Turo-san.”

The guard hesitated, glancing between Kamui and the trembling man.

“Ma’am, forgive me for speaking out of turn but I really do advise-“

“You’re forgiven, now go wait by the carrier.”

“Of course ma’am.” The guard finally submitted, bowing his head and moving away.

"How do you know my name?" Turo asked, opening his door slightly wider.

"I asked the locals to direct me to their leader." She answered, stepping inside the hut and looking around the one room space, eyes flickering from the bed on the floor to the low table, to the rusted oven on the far end of the room, an aged kettle sitting on the fire, a pot of tea leaves set in the middle of the table. "Imagine my surpise when they directed me to you. You are held in very high esteem Turo-san."

"Thank you ma'am." He replied, Kamui kneeling by the table, nodding when her offered her tea, watching the cup brew in front of her with vague interest. "What happened here?"

"That's not my place to say ma'am, I do not know the minds of the rich who own these parts." He was nervous, shuffling on the spot as he lowered himself to kneel across from her.  

“Well then, tell me your best estimate.”

"May I speak freely ma'am?"

"Of course Turo-san."

“There comes a point in every community that the people in power give up making anything better because progress does not show overnight, we have been abandoned by the imperial palace, our decline was only imminent after that.”

These were her people, she had to protect them.

There was no ifs, buts, or maybes about it, just the fact of the situation.

She had to protect them.

Her hands curled into fists by her side, her decision already made.

“Do you know the rough estimates on the amount you would need?”

The farmer fumbled, though Kamui remained unblinking as she sat at the handmade oak table, made out of necessity rather than luxury, hand running across imperfect lines and rough edges. Tracing her hands over the wear and decay as she waited for an answer.

“For what ma’am?”

“To revitalise the community, to drag these people out of squalor.” Her unblinking eyes lifting to stare through him, her hands pausing to rest in front of her on the table. “How much would you need?”

“I-I wouldn’t know ma’am, that’s not my place.” Turo stuttered, eyes flickering from her to amenities around the room, not able to hold her gaze.

He was lying.

“Just name the sum Turo-san, I know that you know it.”

“10,000,000 ryo.” He blurted out, fidgeting under her gaze. “It is a lot ma’am, I understand, it is the amount needed to lift every person here, to give them training to put them in jobs, to set up a basic school and secure a future generation.”

Kamui hummed lowly, giving the man a break as she moved her eyes to stare at the table instead.

“Ma’am you have no obligation-“

“The imperial bank will give you three instalments  of 5,000,000 ryo.”

“Ma’am, that adds up to 15,000,000 ryo, that is far too much for such a simple area-“

“I know how to count Turo-san.” She stated coldly, her eyes flickering up to stare back at the cowering man. “I am well aware, as I’m sure you are the amount of trust I am putting into you to do this task.”

“Of course ma’am.”

“Good.” Kamui smiled, though it was cold and sharp at the edges. “I’m certain then that you understand the importance of this, I want you to revitalise this community Turo-san, not line your own pockets. If I find that is what you have done…” She paused for a brief moment, her hand tracing around the rim of her teacup. “Well; I will be very upset.”

“Of course not ma’am, I would never betray your grace and trust like that ma’am you can count on me.” Turo was stumbling over his words, looking simultaneously everywhere and nowhere as his brain attempted to catch up with the current ongoings.

“Splendid.” She said lightly, drinking her tea, though her eyes never left Turo’s face. “I’m sure you wont disappoint me.”

Turo only nodded, his hands trembling as he drank his own tea.

…

“15,000,000 ryo in total to be placed in the far east region.” The councilman read, spluttering over his own words while Kamui reclined in her seat watching the proceedings silently. “That is only the home of impoverished farmers, what is the benefit of putting that much money into the area?”

“It is our weakest area.” Kamui stated, calm at the proceedings despite the murmurings between the council. “It also has the best land, being so close to the endless sea, why not invest in it?”

“There have been many attempts before, all have shown that the land is infertile and a waste of resources.”

“A waste to capital farmers who only know how to cultivate inland farms, not a waste to the experienced out there.”

“You wish to let the rabble run wild with this amount of money?” Another spoke up, staring at the scroll in his hands as if his brain would finally recognise it as an illusion.

“They are not rabble they are people, and they deserve our respect.” She replied, biting her tongue so the words did not come out as a hiss.

“Nothing good has ever come from eastern Tea.”

(Her Okaa-san had been beautiful, despite the way she was always dressed in rags, smiling through the wheat and laughing when a shower of flour fell down onto Kamui. Crops are flammable, they told her, and Kamui would only learn how right they were when her whole village went up in smoke.)

“I am from eastern Tea, councilman.” Kamui stressed, the hiss in her words no longer held back, as her grip tightened on the arms of her throne. “Is this a grievance against me?”

“Of course not ma’am.” The councilman quickly retracted shuffling away from her hard gaze.

“Besides,” A senior member spoke up, staring back at Kamui with a gaze just as stern. “You do not have the authority to make these decisions.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Kamui asked, sitting up straighter and narrowing her eyes at the elderly man.

“Such power needs to be ratified by the signal of either your partner or your guardian, and as far as I am aware ma’am,” her title is coated in poison, “you have neither.”

“I am the daimyō.” Kamui stated, rising in her seat and staring down the councilman, watching him waver in his shoes. “A daimyō needs no partner to make decisions.”

“But a woman does.”

“Will you talk to a kunoichi the way you talk to me councilman?”

“You are not a kunoichi.” Was his argument, his yellow stained eyes staring at her from across the room. “You were a concubine, recent enough that many men in this council still remember the warmth of your bed. Do not fear ma’am, we’ve taken the liberty to pick out some appropriate candidates for such a position of power. Truly we only have your best interests at heart, your grace.”

I may not be a kunoichi, but I will poison your entire household and not feel a single drop of guilt doing it.

The words are on the tip of her tongue but Kamui bit them down, shuffling through the papers placed in her hands. All of the most ‘appropriate’ candidates were connected heavily with the councilmen in front of her, a few younger officials having the audacity to put their own name in front of her.

They could not rule directly, so they would rather use her as a puppet and think she wouldn’t notice.

But Kamui could do nothing, not with the power these men held just by their birth right, her own power was fragile, a tiny sapling that would die without careful attention.

She could not go against them, not if she wanted to make anything better.

She needed to wait, to make herself a power so that she could force them into compliance.

Her grip tightened around the accounts in her hands, nails nearly tearing into the delicate paper as she glared down at them, biting her tongue in an effort to keep quiet.

“It will be considered.” She murmured, ignoring the way her hands were shaking under the pressure of her anger.

…

“They tell me I need a man to rule, a man of power and influence.” She hissed lowly, pacing the room while Zetsu stayed shrouded in the darkness of the office, arriving at her panicked plea for the goddess’ help. “My popularity with the people is not enough, not when we need power, enough so that the other nations do not invade to take over our land.”

“You are not seen as that power.”

“I am a former concubine gifted with nothing more than my ability to spin pretty speeches and change minds, I am not a threat to these powers. I am a trophy to be placed in a glass cage, or a pretty puppet with strings ready to be pulled on.”

He sighed heavily, glaring at the  offending papers on her desk, the accounts all ripped to shreds, victims of her volatile fury.

“I know someone who can help.” The white side of the creature offered, timid in its words, though the dark side just grinned in the face of her anger.

“Well, why didn’t you say that five minutes ago?” She breathed out, spinning around to glare at it.

“Because I was not here five minutes ago.” A new, deeper, voice spoke up, Kamui turning on her heel, red kimono blowing out around her, to face them.

A man stood in the corner of the office, shrouded slightly by the darkness of the night, the candles littered around not offering much int true visibility. He wore a mask, the single hole in it showed a black eye staring back at her across the room. He wore plain black robes, leaning against the wall strength clear in the way he stood. The mask was white, decorated with black lines curving inwards, reaching out towards the hole for his eye.

“I am Madara.” He introduced himself, kicking off of the wall and standing straight while Zetsu sank into the darkness from next to Kamui, not quite leaving the room bust till stepping out of the way. “Apparently you are in need of help.”

“Help may be what I need, but I very much doubt I would want it from the likes of you.” She replied, folding her arms within the sleeve of her kimono, head held high.

“Why not me?” The man asked, disappearing for a second only to reappear closer to her. “Do you not wish to bring Tea to a greater age? Our ideals line up, but mine are more ambitious than yours, I wish to bring the world to a greater age, I wish to bring centuries of nothing but peace and prosperity for every individual in every nation, do you not wish to be apart of that?”

“I do not consort with faceless spinners of fiction.” Kamui stated lowly, stepping closer and squaring her shoulders despite her considerably shorter stature. “Nor do I believe in the power of a man too scared to show his own face.”

“I am Madara.” He hissed lowly, stressing the name as if repeating it a second time would trigger some instinctual fear response within her.

“I don’t even know who that is.” She hissed back, meeting his glare. “Am I meant to tremble in my shoes at the sound of it? Am I meant to immediately bow and beg for your forgiveness? By the nature of your body language and hesitation in your voice, I am fairly certain it is not even your name.”

He paused, wavering slightly in the way his stature froze for a single milli-second before rapidly composing himself to grow taller and make his glare that slight bit stronger, any other person would have missed it, many ninja would have dismissed it, but Kamui saw straight through his façade and knew that split second was all she needed.

“You do not know who you are tempting civilian.”

“Then go ahead and enlighten me.” Kamui proposed, not blinking as he hovered inches away from her face. “But you will do so looking me in the face, not behind a mask. I am the daimyō, I deserve respect.”

“By your tantrum and the actions of your council, it could be argued that you are nothing.” He stated, staring down at her as if she was nothing but a persistent bug. “Let alone something worthy of respect, Concubine Kamui.”

He never expects it, that’s what makes it so easy.

Ninja had a very strange code to live by from what Kamui could gather as she absorbed every reference to them she could find in Tea’s imperial library. One of the many on the list of seemingly unspoken rules was that if a person had a weird characteristic: do not question and do not acknowledge, this could range from speech patterns to why a person was wearing a mask.

Kamui supposed this made sense on the surface: why bring a person pain by acknowledging something that they may be ashamed of? However, that didn’t take away from the fact it could be a distraction that could be exploited.

She ripped the mask from his face, letting it slip from her fingers and shatter onto the floor, as she stared back at him, raising her chin in defiance. The dark haired man stumbled back slightly, too shocked to stop her movement, Kamui did not blink as she took in his face, registering the scars that travelled the entire length of the left side of his body, reaching the centre and yet leaving his right half unbesmeared. They glistened in the candlelight, old, yet not old enough to be fully faded and healed.

He only had one eye, its presence stark against the lines in his face.

The room seemed to pause for a second, both of them staring at the other in pure shock, Zetsu silent from where he stood against the wall. On his face the shock melted into fury, features darkening as all the life seemed to pull out of the room, running in fear from the appearance of this mans anger, the candles around the room flickered, seeming to burn brighter, Kamui stumbling back as she stared at his face.

His right eye began to spin, bleeding with new colour, the black melting into lines and tomoes as he moved forward. Kamui moved back at the same pace as he moved forward, nearly tripping over her own feet in an effort to get away from his wrath, apologies bubbling in her throat yet dying with a choked gasp in her mouth.

His eye was red.

Her next words die a sweet death on her tongue and Kamui could only stare in shock as he lunged at her, both of them toppling to the floor. She could not bring herself to care, even as the priceless oak snapped under the weight of their fall, and the splinters from it dug themselves though her robes and into her skin.

His eye was red.

Red like the luxury of fine things Kamui was finally allowed to own, the red of roses, of pomegranates, of the new robes lining her chambers and of the blood that had spilled from the daimyō when she had slipped poison into his drink with a red painted smile.

His eye was red.

The mere sight of it tore down Kamui’s plans and arguments and burned them on a pyre while laughing.

His eye was red.

“You wish to use me as a weapon, I was trained as a leader, not some concubines lap dog.” He was saying, though the full context was lost on her as the room began to spin, kicking out uselessly and gasping for air as his scarred hand wrapped around her throat. “I do not bow to anyone, not even some lucky new daimyō with grand ideas.”

“I don’t want a weapon.” Kamui gasped, trying to remove his hand from where it was wrapped around her throat, desperately attempting to appease while keeping her dignity. “Truly, I do not even want a husband, but circumstances force me and I will not allow some puppet who doesn’t even know the difference between the brain in his skull and the brain in his pants to take it from me.”

“You’ve barely been in power for half a month, you have no real power to speak off. Not truly.”

His phrasing was crude, but not untrue.

Truly, even with the potential of her power, Kamui has nothing, but with him, with his red eye and the power she can see thrumming within them, she could have everything.

“But I could.” She swore, gasping for air as he grip tightened. “With your help, I could. You know I could, you wouldn’t have come to entertain the idea if you truly thought I didn’t stand a chance.”

“We need her.” Zetsu stated calmly, not at all panicked by the fact Kamui’s lips were slowly turning blue. “We need political power and a foothold, we won’t get a peaceful world without it. To achieve the utopia we crave, we need you to work together.”

“Yeah, let’s go with that.” Kamui wheezed, his grip tightening for a second before relaxing completely.

“I will not love you.” The statement was cold, and his red eye was colder. “My love died with her.”

“You will not touch me.” She bargained, resting a hand on top of the one that was wrapped around her throat, still present even though his grip had loosened completely. “I am tired of every man who thinks I owe them something touching me.”

“She would’ve liked you.” He hummed, the red seeming to pulse as his hand retreated from her throat, the man himself retreating to the other side of the room, Kamui sitting up straight now she wasn’t pinned in place, slowly following him to the other side of the room, . “She would’ve admired your wit and independence. But that can’t happen, because of what they did.”

Kamui wasn’t sure if she wanted to ask who this ‘she’ was that he kept referring too, but she was obviously important from they way she sent the man in front of her into mumbling rants at the mere thought of her.

“What did they do?” She asked, lowering herself to his eye-level as he slumped against the wall, seemingly overcome by the sudden weight of emotion the mere memory brought him.

Whatever had happened had destroyed him, and Kamui wanted to rebuild him from the ashes left behind.

“They killed her.” He stated coldly, mask still shattered on the wooden floor by his feet and elbows resting on his knees. “In cold blood and in the most vile way, by a teammate I thought I trusted to protect her.”

He was very dramatic.

No matter, men with power always did seem to have a flare for the dramatical, it wasn’t a game changer.

“Tell me what you want.” She hummed, slowly reaching out as if he was a feral animal and running her hand through his ink black hair in a mimicry of comfort she has seen but never experienced, a stark juxtaposition of their previous position. She should hate him, despise him for the way he had effortlessly strangled her just minutes before, but the black threads of his hair are soft under her fingertips and her love for red will forever outweigh anything else. “Tell me what you want, and I will give it to you.”

His eye was such a beautiful red, spinning with little black lines, full of power, full of potential.

She will do anything so she could look into that eye for the rest of time.

Kamui has the resources, and whoever this man is he apparently has the power she needs to secure it all. She would give him anything to secure his presence by her side she does not care for what form it may take in front of the council, just as long as he is there.

His eye was red, and now that his mask is broken she can see that half of his face is heavily scarred, flinching away from her touch, the red intensifying as he glared at her hand.

“I want Konoha as it is burnt to the ground.” His only eye was a beautiful red and the tomoes within them are spinning as he glares at the floor, jaw clenched. “And I want to rebuild a better one from the ashes.”

Konoha, huh?

Kamui had no love for the Village Hidden in the Leaves, or whatever pretentious names ninja villages were deigning to call themselves nowadays. All it was was a pit of pretentious luxury held in the iron grip of a militaristic power that had no true care about any ordinary being compared to the power they put into their ancient clans.

He wants it gone.

Now, that was an idea she could work with.

“You speak of revenge more freely then you reveal your name,” she hummed slightly, tilting her head and leaning closer, never looking away from his eye, “what is it?”

“Obito.” He goes to say something more, but hesitated, drawing away from Kamui’s lingering touch. “Just Obito.”

“Hello Obito.” Kamui smiled, manic amusement in her eyes and deadly satisfaction found in the way she almost seemed to bare her teeth. “My name is Kamui, and I believe we both have something to gain from the other.”

His eye was red, and she can see the fierceness within him with the power he sets his jaw, and Kamui cannot wait to see how much more red he can bring her.

Chapter Text

Red.

It sticks to her skin and yet remains out of reach, forever just barely grazing her fingertips. Even bathed in the colour it could never be enough, clawing at her own skin just for a glimpse, just for a single drop more.

Obito’s eyes are red, red like the blood pounding through her veins as she watched him prowl across the other side of the room, his mask fixated back onto his face, his red eye still shining from the darkened depths.

“What will we do?” He asked, not looking for her answer, continuing his prowl from one end of the room to another. “What will we do?”

Kamui only stared at the small shrine to the Goddess in front of her, gold dipped fingers reaching out to thread the flower offerings between them, red painted lips parting and yet not a sound leaving them. She only stared at the small marble figure of the Goddess in front of her, the small smears of red at the very bottom catching her eye.

“Kamui.” The sound of her name brought her attention away from the droplets, her fingers slowly retreating from the offerings. “Do not look at me as if you have grown dumb within the last hour.”

“I am daimyō.” She hissed in response rising to her feet with grace, hands folded carefully in front of her. “If you wish to be of any use to me, at least practice your acting skills when it comes to respecting me.”

Behind the mask, she could not see his face, but the shifting in his eyes likely meant his expression was not favourable.

“You are a concubine.”

“And you are a rogue ninja with no backing if I decided to throw you to the rats.” Kamui’s eyes narrowed, the charcoal smeared onto her eyelids making her look even more intimidating. “I have killed the man responsible for me before, do you think I will not do it again?”

“You like my eyes too much.”

“I’d get over it.” She paused for a second, tilting her head as she considered. “I can still admire your eye when I place it in a jar.”

Obito stepped forward, his hands already moving forward beginning to rest in a practice sign, left foot pushing back, arms tensing.

“Children.” A dark voice called out, Black Zetsu materialising through the wall to stare passively at them both. “Both of you are acting without dignity or restraint, you have a divine purpose.” The darker side stopped speaking, White Zetsu piping up to soothe the tension. “Play nice. Please.”

With a huff, Kamui turned away from them both, arranging her skirts as she knelt in front of the shrine, her hands clasped togethers in prayer. She could faintly hear Obito brig his stance back together to stand properly, though she could feel his burning gaze through the side of her head.

Obito’s eye is his only redeeming factor, that much she is certain. It is also the only reason she does not demand to have his head forcibly removed from his shoulders.

“Have you at least determined what you can give to each other?” Zetsu sighed, the tension still palatable despite the desperate attempts of its lighter side.

“Power she does not yet have.”

“Power he cannot prove.”

“Enough.”

Kamui rolled her eyes beneath her eyelids, head still bowed in prayer while Obito let out an audible sigh.

“Kamui,” Black Zetsu turned its singular eye to glance at the woman, the white side still watching the pacing Obito. “Did you produce the records?”

“They’re on the table.” She answered, unclasping her hands to fold them in her lap. “Signed, dated and witnessed. Now, can I please leave this damned room? I have a country to run.”

Zetsu had trapped them in the room the prior afternoon of that morning, and despite his numerous pacing and muttering, Obito had not been able to leave, rather vanishing for several minutes only to return looking tremendously more frustrated than when he had left. Kamui did not ask for an explanation, nor did she care for one. Simply choosing to settle herself down onto the wooden floor and wait the plant creature out. Dusk had been and went, and the dead of night hung outside, the moon their ever-omniscient spectre while the only light in the room came from the numerous candles Obito had lit with a flick of his fingers.

“You both have a purpose.” Zetsu, this time both halves speaking at once, eyes glancing between them both. “A purpose to bring hope and prosperity all across these lands, from Tea to Iron, to put them all into a golden utopia. Do not ruin the lives of all with your childish behaviour.”

“The world is rotten.” Obito nodded, stopping his pacing to nod slowly. “And we will follow the plan and redeem it and punish anyone who stands in our way. It is my plan, and I take full responsibility for ensuring it moves forward.”

At Obito’s words, Zetsu turned towards her, Kamui rising from in front of the shrine. Turning her head to stare back at the plant creature, her words were simple and straight to the point.

“For the light of the Goddess shall shine and may the darkness crumble before it.” She recited, a known phrase from the parables of the Moon Rabbit, whispered in hushed prayers throughout the country.

Zetsu nodded, the door finally clicking open behind them, though neither of them made a move to leave, not even as the plant creature melted back into the wall.

“I don’t like you.” Obito stated childishly, both of them staring at the wall Zetsu had departed through.

Obito has a pretty eye, pretty enough that Kamui will covet him, but she doesn’t have to like him to keep him by her side,

“How old are you?” Kamui sneered, tilting her face to glance at his side profile, the mask now held in his hand. “You have the face of a twelve-year-old.”

“Sixteen.” Obito shrugged, placing his mask on the table.

“Even more reason you should respect me,” Kamui hummed, picking up the knife on the table and twisting it in her hands. “I’m older than you.”

“By a year.”

“A year more experience than you will ever have.”

“I’m trained as a ninja, you’re trained as a concubine, there’s a difference.”

“Yes, being a concubine is infinitely more difficult.”

“We’re not having this discussion.” Obito sighed heavily, running a scarred hand over his face, while his other open palm stretched out across the table, hovering over the documents between them. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“For prosperity.” Kamui nodded, twisting the knife around her fingers so that the blade hovered just above the soft skin of her palm. “For Tea.”

She took in a deep breath, slicing the skin in one fluid motion, watching the deep red seep out of her skin as she passed the knife to Obito.

“For a utopia.” He agreed, slicing his own palm without flinching. “For everyone.”

The bleeding palms met, the gold covering her fingertips staining his hand as their combined blood dripped onto the scroll below. The seal hidden withing the very fibres of the scroll activated, shifting into life, Kamui watching it as their blood moved, as is pulled into the centre by some unknown force. The complicated swirls, lines and patterns of the seal shifted, the outer branches of it turning clockwise, pulsating like a heartbeat as it grew bigger.

“To a new era.” Obito whispered, Kamui lifting her eyes away from the seal to look at her new husbands face, their fates now forever intertwined by some drops of blood and words on a scroll.

Obito needed power, soft power and influence to back the raw power running through his veins and the ambition eating away at his heart. He needed influence, a diplomatic standing, and yet not something that would have his every move watched and judged.

Kamui had soft power by the spade, an entire kingdom at her feet yet not enough raw power to be able to do anything with it. She had needed someone with enough raw power that the council would never question her decisions, someone that put the fear of mortality back into the council members yet would never try to usurp her from her rightful position.

Obito had no particular interest in Tea, what Obito wanted was the world, he did not care if what it took to get it was giving one woman a tiny sliver of it.

Letting go off his hand, Kamui watched the seal briefly glow brighter before a singular second, before fading back into the scroll, the droplets of blood no longer in sight.

They both needed power, and wasn’t marriage just a more legally binding version of a sharing agreement? A sharing agreement that her dreaded council would not be able to question or refute.

In their history, a marriage could either help start a war, or finish it.

Kamui prayed that this would be the latter.

Across the horizon, the sun rose on a new era.

…

Kamui’s wooden sandals clicked on the wooden floor of the grand council room, her deep red kimono rippling around her as she walked, Obito trailing behind her, glancing around the room, his only visible eye lingering on the notable exits.

“Why don’t you just kill all of them?” He asked, falling in step with her as they walked to the back of the room, Kamui signalling for the guard there to stand back and out of earshot.

“This is a democracy. Murder will make me enemies I cannot afford.”

“And yet, you seek to rule over them without interference.”

“The most effective dictatorship is one the people don’t even notice.” Kamui hummed, stopping in front of a grand wooden cabinet, glass replacing the top so that she could peer inside, humming in thought as her fingertips rested over the glass tracing over each object inside. “You are clan born, no?”

“A minor branch member, and effectively kicked out at a young age but yes.”

“Which clan was it?”

Obito had blackened his full name on the document before she could see it, hiding it under some form of secrecy shield before Kamui would even think to look.

“That is none of your concern, you have not mentioned your last name.”

“Chaba no Kamui.” She replied to the unanswered question, her palm resting on the glass as she considered the main centre piece of the cabinet.

“That’s not a name, that’s title.” Obito considered for a moment. “It means tea leaves of all things.”

“The imperial family doesn’t have a last name.” She reminded him, glancing away from the cabinet to look at him. “The point of the matter is are you trained in sword wielding?”

“To an extent, with a bit of training it wouldn’t be difficult. Can’t be harder than wielding a gunbai.”

“Why would you fight with a gunbai?” Kamui asked, her whole face twisting as she tried to wrap her head around why a fan would be practical in a fight.

“My training wasn’t exactly standard near the end.”

Kamui didn’t want to ask.

Lifting open the glass casing of the cabinet, she removed the black and gold sword from inside. Unsheathing it an inch to examine the metal, before offering it to him. It was a large sword, spanning the entire length of her arm, the steel unscratched and untarnished while the black leather it was bound with felt sleek in her hands, the very tip of the black handle decorated in pure gold, protection seals as well as ancient prayers engraved into it with a precise hand across the handle and the steel of the sword itself.

“Here, it seems wrong that I marry you and give you nothing.” She shrugged slightly as he accepted the offered gift. “Take this, the finest steel and craftmanship Tea can offer. It will fit into your persona as my protector, no?”

The movement of his eye through the whole in the mask suggested he was grinning under it. The white mask with black curving lines was replaced with a black full-face mask decorated with intricate red lines that spread like branches from one side to the other, breaking off around the eye space.

“A shame I can’t kill any of those councilmen with this.” He commented absentmindedly turning the sword in his hand while the doors on the other side of the room flew open. Senior councilman, and a handful of imperial advisors tumbling into the hall.

“Daimyō Kamui.” The angered man at the very front shouted, the horde of people stopping in front of the two of them, Kamui and Obito crossing the room to meet them in the middle.

“I take it back, there’s one councilman you can kill.” She scowled, making eye contact with the leader, a scroll clutched in his white-knuckle grip. “Councilman Jonto. What makes you seem so harassed this fine day?”

“You cannot marry this man!” Jonto scowled, an almost screech like quality to his voice, as he waved the marriage scroll in the air around him as if it would disappear if he gestured enough with it. “That was not out agreement.”

Kamui only laughed, tilting her head back and slumping in her shoulders slightly inwards as the sound filled the air of the council room, several of the officials nervously fidgeting in their spaces, glancing at each other.

“Oh, but councilman…” Kamui practically purred, sitting straight back up and staring back at him with a feral grin, Obito tilting his head as both of them stared him down. “I already did.”

“You cannot.” He hissed, eyes flickering between them. “Not without the express permission from the council, your marriage to this-this heathen is null and void.”

“I’m very sorry you think that councilman.” She cooed softly, her head turning to look at Obito, grinning as his alias fell from her lips. “Perhaps Tobi can change your mind?”

She could not see his face behind his mask, but somehow, she could tell he was grinning back at her.

Fully unsheathing the sword, Obito moved before anyone could even blink, appearing again in the middle of the horde, the pure steel of the sword dripping with a beautiful deep red, and Jonto’s severed head rolling slightly to stop several paces away from Kamui’s feet.

“Does anyone else have any complaints?” She called over the room, crossing the area to collect the still twitching head of the councilman, dragging the dismembered head up from the floor and holding it by its hair, watching the crowd scramble to move away from her as she walked through them, completely silent. “I thought not.”

Walking to the door, she passed the bloody head to the rather green looking guard, smirking darkly as he swayed on his heel, trying desperately to touch the least amount of head that he possibly could.

“Be sure his clan knows that they are hereby dismissed from the imperial grounds, and should I ever see another of them after noon tomorrow than their own head will join their clans- well… their clan heads head.” Nodding, the guard hurriedly took it away, Kamui walking through the blood droplets, staining the floorboards as she surveyed the room. “I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, dear councilmen. You expect me to be one way, I am another. You expect me to act one way to your little requests, I act another. I understand how this can be upsetting but let’s make one thing crystal clear.” She stopped at the throne, turning to stare down the men cowering before her. “I am now daimyō, and I expect from you all the respect that comes with the decision. I welcome honest debate, I welcome your advice, what I do not welcome is your disrespect, your petulance, or your sad little attempt at manipulation.”

Her eyes examined the room, the councilmen and advisors huddled together and nodded frantically at her every word, Councilman Jonto’s body still laid slumped across the floorboards, noticeably lacking his head. Amongst all the fear, Obito stood off to the side, his new sword still unsheathed as he alternated between watching the council and watching her.

“Now, are we in agreement?”

The council, the same men who once held the strings of Kamui’s life in their hands, who invited themselves into her bed and forced their hands on her, who expected her to smile and be easy prey to their whims, could only nod in their compliance.

…

“Your Excellencies!” A messenger called out, Kamui turning away from the red roses in the imperial garden. Her hands folding together in the sleeves of her long kimono, and her eyebrows raising, calmly watching the messenger run across the gardens a scroll in his hands as he panted harshly. Next to her, Obito appeared, spinning out of the air next to Kazuko, likely hearing the messenger from whichever pocket dimension he disappeared too when he no longer had to keep up appearances.

“Breathe dear, unlike the rest of this land we are not at war.” She stated, with a short laugh, the poor boy skidding to a stop in front of her. “What has gotten you in such a state?”

“The-“ The messenger squirmed for a second, glancing frantically between the two of them. “The Yondaime of Konohagakure is here. He’s asking if he and his troop can seek shelter in imperial grounds.”

“There is no Yondaime of Konohagakure.” Obito stated, the power of the portal still humming around him as they both watched the messenger shrink. “The current Hokage is the Sandaime.”

“He has official documents on him, stamped by the Sandaime and certified by our scholars.” The messenger said hurriedly barely breathing as he passed the scroll to Kamui. “Should we let him in?”

Opening the scroll, Kamui glanced over its contents with a hum, her fingers running across the certified wax seal that meant the man at her gate was truly the future leader of Konoha.

“Well, where are our manners?” She hummed, rolling the scroll closed and passing it back to the boy. “Let us go see what this Namikaze Minato wants from us.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noted how Obito stiffened.

…

“It is not everyday the future Yondaime appears on my doorstep.” She stated with a soft smile, returning the mans bow as his squadron entered the Tea Room, a low table already set up for the two of them. “May I ask what you are doing here?”

“We were diverted into Tea on our way back from Suna.” Minato answered easily, lowering himself to the floor and accepting the teacup offered to him. “Iwa nin are everywhere, my apologies that you did not have appropriate pre-warning. It is dangerous for us to be out in the open during war, even if the tide has turned in our favour.”

“There is no war in Tea, Yondaime.” Kamui hummed. “There has not been war in this land since the First Great Shinobi War.”

“Many leaders are superstitious, this country has a love for the old religion that make many wary.” Kamui followed the tall blond mans eyeline, humming in agreement as her eyes fell on the statue of the Moon Goddess across the room.

“There is many stories that the first beginnings of civilisation began in Tea.” She agreed, pouring her own tea. “Humanity grew in Tea, and one day all humanity will return to the loving arms of Tea. We bless our goddess for her favour of living in such a place. It is only natural.”

“Your prior leader was not so fanatical in his devotion to the Goddess Kag- “

Kamui lunged, slamming her hands on the table, the whole room silencing as she stared at Minato, her eyes wide with worry, glancing around the room as if the half-formed syllable had summoned something divine and monstrous.

“Do not say her name.” She hissed, glancing worriedly at the statue of the Goddess before settling back down into her prior position. “Not in a holy land such as this.”

“My apologies.” Minato murmured, looking truly apologetic for the worry he had caused. “You were his favoured concubine, were you not? That’s what the rumours say.”

“And now I am daimyō.” Kamui said, sipping at her tea with a sigh. “What else do these rumours of yours say?”

“That you had your head councilman killed for going against your judgement.”

“You’re attempt at manipulation is laughable.” She commented lightly.

“And if I’m not manipulating you?”

“Then I’d say you’re a fool.” Kamui took in a deep breath, resting her hands by the side of her teacup. “Besides, trying to accuse me of running a dictatorship is funny coming from a man whom I could accuse the very same.”

“How so?”

“The military running the village. Must be conflicting opinions with the civilians living there.” She paused for a moment, pouring her tea with an exaggerated tut. “Remind me how those civilians voted for you?”

They hadn’t, Kamui had checked.

“You play with fire, especially seeing as you have one guard, and you are in a room filled with foreign ninja. You must be very brave, Daimyō Kamui.”

The implied: or very stupid was left unsaid.

What happened next occurred before Kamui’s civilian eyes could process any of it, but she jumped at the sudden sound of the table jumping, fine porcelain rattling against the oak, Kamui pressing her hand down onto her spinning teacup, grimacing as hot tea splashed against her open palm.

Glancing up, she bit down on her cheek to stop the gasp from escaping her mouth. Obito stood on the other side of the table, his sword already half unsheathed, staring blankly at the Yondaime. Minato himself was out of his kneeling position, moving faster than Kamui could even fathom, catching Obito’s arm with a strong look.

“Kamui does not need an army, or any legion of guards to protect her.” Obito stated, his voice pitched higher than normal, acting as if the blatant threat to the Yondaime’s safety was one big joke to him. “She has me.”

“You’re a good ninja.” Minato commented, letting go of Obito’s hand and lowering himself back down to kneel opposite Kamui on the low table. “Where did you say you trained?”

Obito was silent, sheathing the sword and returning to stand guard behind Kamui.

“Forgive Tobi.” Kamui hummed, hiding her surprise by the action by looking down at her tea, though she was certain all the ninja in the room could see how her fingers were trembling at the suddenness of it all. “He is not in a very agreeable mood.”

He never was.

“This is your husband?” Minato asked, his blue eyes never leaving the man hovering behind Kamui like a shadow.

“The very same.” She nodded, sipping her tea politely and steering the conversation back onto course. “You must understand Yondaime, Tea does not change under my rule. This is not a power move to seize control from the great nations, the war is only just ending, fights concluding as we sit here and drink. Tea will still provide the nations with crops, materials, and finery, we take pride in our exports and our position to help.”

“You provide to Iwa as well as Konoha.” Minato pointed out, finally swallowing down his Tea. “The war has begun to turn in our favour, I came here personally to speak to you as a fellow ruler just trying to protect his people. Stop the supply to Iwa, so that we can finish this once and for all.”

“There are no villains in war Yondaime, just victors, and the story that they choose fit to leave behind.” Kamui sighed heavily, stirring her Tea. “If I stop the supply to Iwa innocent people will starve and their economy will begin to crumble, you are asking me to shoot a dog just so you can kick at it without it retaliating.”

“What is the point in being neutral when you’re already beginning to tempt fate by building a ninja garrison?” The blond debated, fingers tightening around his porcelain cup. “You can help end this war, procure the favour of the shinobi nations. People that will help you fledge your own shinobi task force.”

“All of them except Iwa, who I let starve because one man told me it would end a war that I am not involved in.”

“Innocent people are dying in this war!”

“And even more will die if I do what you ask!”

A gloved hand settled in her shoulder, Kamui taking in a deep breath, her throat sore from the sudden shouting match. Reaching up, she patted Obito’s hand, signalling that she understood the message he was trying to convey.

“Tempers have run high.” She murmured, gathering together the scraps of her composure. “I understand, this is peoples lives we speak after all. Stay in Tea and rest for a few hours, you will know no hardship of war while you stay with us. You will have my answer by sundown.”

…

“Stop the supply to Iwa.”

“They’re paying handsomely for them, why would I?” She asked, watching his movement in the golden mirror before her. “Favouring one side when opposed to the other will impact us negatively in the future. Besides, I thought you wanted Konoha crumbled into ash? Why not just let Iwa do it for us?”

“Kamui.” Obito’s voice was deep as he took off his mask, the spinning red eye staring back at her as he stared at her reflection in the mirror. She paused for a moment, placing down her comb, and staring back at him. In the dim light of the room, she would almost say that he looked desperate. His heart torn by something she could not see nor know. “Stop the supply to Iwa.”

“Why?” She stressed, demanding an answer from him.

“Because they helped kill Rin!” Whatever seams were holding Obito together snapped, his red eye glowing brighter, the black dots spinning around his pupil. “Konoha and Iwa, they both killed Rin.”

“I understand the need for revenge Obito, but causing innocent people to starve is not the way to do-”She stopped speaking, lifting her chin up and closing her eyes at the sensation of sharp steel inches away from the soft flesh of her neck. “Who’s Rin?”

“The only woman I’ll ever love.”

“Many other wives would be distraught to hear their husbands say such a thing.” Kamui commented absentmindedly, lifting her chin higher as the sword moved closer. “I will not stop the supply to Iwa, you’ll have to present me with another option.”

“Halve it.” Obito practically growled, his grip tight around the hilt of his sword.

“The people starve, the economy collapses, we’re back to square one.”

“Fine.” He adjusted his grip of the sword. “Keep the food, cut basic raw materials like brick and paper by a third. Leather by a half. No metal. Earth doesn’t need it, its full of the stuff. Nothing they could use as a weapon is sent.”

“And Konoha?” She asked, side eyeing him as he considered. “I cannot treat one country over another, its disastrous for Tea’s international image. If word gets out that we favoured Konoha in the war, Iwa might take it as an invitation to invade. We are resourceful, but we do not have an army.”

“Cut all food exports to Konoha except for wheat. Anything else they can feasibly grow on their own if they put their mind to it.” He answered after a moment of consideration. “No metal, I know they keep underground warehouses of weapons for moments like this. Keep the rest of the supplies like they are.”

Kamui grinned, the sword still pressed against her neck as she stared into that red eye she liked so, so much.

“We have an agreement.”

Chapter Text

“We’re glad for your help.” Minato stated, bowing deeply when Kamui told him about their decision at sundown, the group packing to head off to fire under the cover of night, filling their packs and storage scrolls with supplies Kamui had provided for them. “We understand the position this puts you in as a nation.”

“That is the first time I have ever heard a man from Fire call Tea a nation.” Kamui observed, Obito her omnipresent shadow as she spoke, his sword strapped to his side, his dark eye never leaving Minato’s form. “Maybe this war is bringing a new wave of attitudes, just as the scholars say.”

“Let us hope it persists.” Minato agreed, his blue eyes leaving hers to look at Obito. “Wherever you are from Lord Tobi, I hope Fire can both learn from you and teach you through great future relations.”

Obito was silent, his hands folded behind his back and the dark eye shining through the mask was blank.

“Tea has great interest in shinobi systems.” Kamui spoke up instead, resisting the urge to kick at Obito’s shin for making things awkward. “My husband and I will look forward to any help Fire could provide us, just as we have helped you today.”

“You make an odd pair.” The future Hokage commented absentmindedly, glancing between the two of them.

“Meh, she is quite ugly, isn’t she?” The high-pitched voice came from behind Obito’s mask, Kamui nearly tripping over her own feet as she turned to gape at him in shock.

Kamui was a favoured concubine. With porcelain skin, slim features and slanted eyes, her hair was a black as ink, thick and wavy, and her lips painted as red as blood. By the standards of Tea, Kamui was ethereal, her features continually polished and refined to the point where men used to worship the ground that she walked on, beg for her attention, trained to never open her mouth lest that it spoiled the beauty the goddess had blessed her with.

Kamui had been called many things in her life, but ugly was never one of them.

“Look who’s talking.” She snapped back, forgetting their company at the sheer audacity of Obito’s statement. “At least I show my face instead of hiding behind a mask like a coward.”

“If I showed my face, you would look ugly compared to me, and we can’t have that, can we?”

“Yes, you would drain the beauty of anything surrounding you.”

“You can’t drain an empty lake.”

“I should cut off your head.”

“Go on then, you’d be doing me a favour.”

“Watch me.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

A sharp laugh snapped them both out of their staring match, both of them turning to look at a laughing Minato, the blond man almost doubled over, his bright laughter filling the air, several of his team members nudging each other behind him, looking like they also wanted to laugh.

He glanced up, stopping instantly at the sight of both of their stares fixated on him, straightening up and adjusting his footing, sheepishly glancing between them, colour leaking onto his face as Kamui was sure it was hers, embarrassed at Obito causing her to lose dignity and poise.

They were leaders, rulers, and a future leader of their respective nation, and yet two of them had just been squabbling like children over a minor comment.

Clearing her throat to ease the sudden tension, Kamui squared her shoulder and straightened her own posture, shooting a sharp glare towards her husband.

“May your journey back to Fire go swift under the watchful eye of the Goddess.” She stated, gesturing to the moon fading into existence in the sky above them.

“I’m afraid I’m not a believer in any old religion, Daimyō Kamui.” Minato said, shouldering his backpack and gesturing to his team to be prepared to leave. “Though I thank you for the blessing.”

“Just because you don’t believe in something Yondaime, does not mean it doesn’t exist.” She replied turning on her heel and gesturing for Obito to follow her. “May we meet again.”

“What are you thinking boss?” One of Minato’s teammates muttered to the squad leader, both of them watching the Lord Protector of Tea reach out for his wife, gently taking her elbow, both of them disappearing within a blink of the eye. Even to Minato’s trained eyes, he could not tell what type of transport jutsu it was.

“They’re dangerous and they’re powerful, especially working together.” He stated, already dreading the extensive character report and skills profile he was going to have to write up about them both. “But they’re still kids. Kids on the edge of being adults with a whole lot of political influence sure, but still kids. They’re not a threat.”

Slipping back into the ground, watching the exchange from the treeline, Zetsu grinned.

…

“Zetsu.” She greeted the dark creature, adjusting her golden hairpin in the mirror. “How are you doing?”

“I will be better once Mother’s will and holy light spread across the land once more.”

“The usual then.” She hummed lowly, her hands falling from her hair as she calmly watched the creature pace across the room.

“Where is Obito?”

“I wouldn’t know, I’m not his keeper.” She paused for a moment, rising from her stool to turn and face him. “Can I help you with something Zetsu?”

Black Zetsu muttered something Kamui was unable to hear, while the white side was silent, staring at the wooden floor.

“Why isn’t the plan moving forward?” It asked, practically hissing from frustration. “We are meant to be causing nations to fall to their knees, not playing host with them.”

“The best way to win a war isn’t through violence, kurokuro.” Kamui stated calmly, folding her hands in front of her as Zetsu stared back.

“You’re meant to be devoted.” It snarled, Kamui stepping back while it stepped forward. Warily eyeing the creature as anger overcame its features. “Mother is upset that things are not progressing quick enough, she wishes to be free. You are meant to free her.”

“I am doing everything that I-”

“Do it faster.”

Kamui resisted the urge to flinch at its tone, schooling her features into a blank mask and staring back at the creature. Her eyes turning cold, and her gold dipped fingers twitching.

“You haven’t even told us exactly what we’re meant to be doing.” She said, her patience at the edge of its lifespan, echoing Zetsu’s own tone. “So, I fail to see how we are meant to be doing it.”

“Where is Obito?” It repeated, quite obviously tired of her persisted presence.

“I am the ruler of these lands Zetsu.” Kamui hissed through gritted teeth. “You will answer to me, not my husband.”

“I’m here Zetsu.”

Snapping her head to the side, Kamui watched her husband step into existence in the formally empty space next to her. His mask was fixed onto his face, though his red eye glowed from the darkness of it, staring straight back at the plant creature, dismissing her entirely.

“There, now we all can be happy.” She wordlessly dismissed them both with a sigh, turning back to her mirror.

“Kamui.”

“Yes, kurokuro.”

“The favour of the Goddess can be a fickle thing.” Kamui’s eyes flickered up from her documents to stare at the creatures reflection in the mirror, her fingers curling to grip dangerously close to tearing the edges of the scroll. “Do not think you are immune to its whims.”

Kamui paused for a moment, turning her head to stare back at the plant creature, in the bright light of the midday that filtered into the room, the jewels decorating her hair caught the light, Obito silent as he watched the exchanged, his eye moving slowly between them, as if he did not know who he was meant to defend.

“Are you threatening me Zetsu?”

“I would never do such a thing, your majesty.”

If it had the ability to feel emotion other than frustration, Kamui would guess that it was mocking her. However, she said nothing, watching them both leave with narrowed eyes.

They were hiding something.

They were hiding something, and they thought Kamui was stupid enough not to notice.

How interesting.

…

“Your majesty.” A strong voice called after her, the heavy chime of amour filling the space as Kamui’s maids stepped to the side, Kamui herself glancing up from her book, acknowledging the guard with a tilt of her head, the slight wave of her hand causing all the maids to scurry away to a reasonable distance, ensuring no eavesdropping. “Your majesty… I bring news.”

That caught her attention.

Snapping her book shut, Kamui rose to her feet, adjusting the skirts of her kimono and gesturing for the guard to continue.

“This evening, it came to our attention that the messenger and finance director from Eastern Tea had returned. Coming back from the financial check up you had sent them on to- to- “

“To see Turo-san.” She finished, absentmindedly wondering where this was going. “The man I had put in charge of that area to make it prosper. I’m aware of my own actions, how is he?”

“That’s the issue ma’am.” The guard stated, looking as if he wanted to swallow his own tongue under Kamui’s stare. “While Turo-san did put some money into the development of Eastern Tea, it appeared to our financial inspector that he had also used vast amount of funds to… improve his own position.”

Kamui stilled, dread greeting her like an old friend as it settled across her shoulders. A cape Kamui had thought she would no longer have to wear.

“How so?”

Please let this be a misunderstanding.

Please Goddess, do not let this be what I believe it to be.

“Turo used his new financial superiority to buy into the expensive plaza known as Courtiers Row, over the course of the month he hosted extensive elaborate parties to connect and endear himself to the upper-class locals, seemingly forgetting about his own humble beginnings. Also, ma’am forgive me-”

“What else?” Kamui hissed, her shoulders stiffening.

“Ma’am-”

“What else?”

“He was found guilty of talking about the imperial palace, specifically her excellency the daimyō. He called you- your majesty I’m not certain if I should be telling you this.”

“You will not be in trouble, just tell me what was said.”

“He called you, and I quote from the report your majesty, a ‘harlot with such delusions of grandeur that the thought of betrayal didn’t even cross her mind. Like a puppet on a string, pretty to look at, but nothing truly going on inside’. We’ve detained him of course daimyō, on counts of fraud and treason toward the imperial palace. We’re just waiting for your orders on his final fate.”

Something deep within Kamui, dipped blood red and coiling tighter with every word snapped, and all she could feel was fury. Her hands trembling as the room fell in and out of focus, the only sound reaching her ears being her own gasping breaths as she fought to keep her composure.

“I want his head on a pike.” She growled lowly, shooting the messenger a dark glare, lips tilting slightly upwards as she watched him squirm. “I want you to stick it in the middle of Courtiers Row and I want it to be a message for every damn woman and man who think they can cross me.”

The guard was silent, his hand tightening around the sword at his eyes though his eyes were sad, pity mixing with fear to form a poisonous combination.

Kamui hated pity, pity and weakness were not the things that dragged her towards her current position.

Pity, weakness, and betrayal had no place in Kamui’s modern life, and yet they had somehow still found their way into it.

“Of course, daimyō.”

...

The door to the study swung open but Kamui remained huddled under the desk, her knees tucked underneath her chin, leaning on the wood that obscured her from sight, her eyes staring blankly at the wood in front of her, ignoring the watery glass beads that collected across her waterline.

“Daimyō.” A soft voice called out, a maid looking for her, yet Kamui only curled up tighter, as if she could become so small that she would no longer exist, and the problem at hand would no longer be hers.

The door slid closed once more, the maid leaving, presumably to search elsewhere for here in the imperial palace.

Screwing her eyes shut, Kamui bent to rest her forehead on her knees, trying to think past the dull ache behind her eyelids and in the back of her throat, a heavy weight that no mater how deeply she breathed or how quickly she blinked she couldn’t quite get rid of.

She wondered if this was how the previous daimyō felt, when he finally realised the poison that was already running through his system.

She wondered if this was how the goddess felt, when she was condemned to be trapped within the moon, her will left to wander the earth for centuries.

She wondered if this was what betrayal felt like.

The door slid open once more, heavy black boots stepping into the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

“Kamui.” Obito started, though Kamui did not move a muscle in acknowledgment. “Kamui, I know you are in here.”

She was silent, the pain behind her eyes becoming unbearable, pushing out the crystalline tears she had tried so hard to withhold.

“I intercepted the messenger before he could deliver your petty little order.” He said, his face out of view even as she watched his feet stop in front of the desk. “There will be no heads on pikes, and I’ve made sure he won’t remember that little outburst come tomorrow morning.”

“Well, go un-intercept it then.” She hissed, angrily wiping away the tear that dared to try and escape her eyes. “I meant what I said.”

“You’re being unreasonable.”

“I want his head on a stick!” She howled, a dam breaking as the tears streamed down her face. Curling up tighter, Kamui desperately attempted to breath, though the more she tried to grasp for her destroyed dignity the more it slipped from her fingers. “You’re meant to be my protector! Go get me his head!”

“You’re acting like a petulant child.”

“We are children!” She shouted back, her voice cracking around the edges as she rose from her hiding place, facing Obito’s crossed arms with a scowl and a screech. Her porcelain features ruined, block kohl makeup smeared, and her face red, dark eyes rimmed with irritated red from the force of her sobs. “I’m meant to be worthy! I’m blessed by the Rabbit Goddess! I am the daimyō, my people shouldn’t betray me!”

“You are acting ridiculous.”

“I deserve this!” Kamui screamed, spinning around to face him, tears streaming down her face. Her hands were fisted, the red dyed sleeves of her kimono almost ripping under her grip. “I deserve this! I’m the one that killed the daimyō. I’m the one that framed the chakusai. I’m the one that poisoned Councilman Banri, and the daimyō’s brother, and everyone else that got in my way. I’m the one that convinced the wetnurse to smother that sickly little child in the crib just because he would’ve gotten in the way of my plans. The court backed me. My people backed me!”

“Kamui…”

“I deserve this!” She sobbed, shoving his hand off of her when he tried to reach for her. “I- I am the daimyō… I did everything perfectly. I smiled through whatever that fat old man said to me, and I got on my knees every time he asked! I’ve done enough, why can’t everything just go perfectly for me like it does for everybody else? I never wanted to be daimyō, I just wanted for everything to be better for Tea.”

She fell down against the floor, tripping over her own skirts as she paced the floor, pain radiating through her arm as she caught herself, her entire body trembling as she stared at the floor, watching with wide eyes as her tears fell to create small splashes on the expensive carpet, seeping into the fabric as more came.

(“You are very beautiful.” The daimyō murmured, running his hands down the side of her face. “It’s just a shame that you’re so pathetic.”)

“What do you want Kamui?” Obito asked, sitting down next to her, the mask still fixed onto his face, a single black eye watching her cry into her hand. “For you. Not for Tea, not for revenge.”

“I want red.” She whispered, her voice hoarse from the screaming as she slumped against the carpet, rolling onto her back, and staring at the gold ceiling above her. “I want to ask Okaa-san what song she used to sing me to sleep with so it will stop haunting my nightmares. I want people to respect me for who I am, rather than how I look, or how I please them.”

With a heavy sigh, Obito took off his face mask, laying down next to her, staring at the ceiling while she turned to face him.

“I want Rin back.” He stated, his black spikey hair brushing against Kamui’s cheek from how close he lay. “I want to tell her that I loved her. I want Konoha to burn to the ground, and for everyone that dismissed me to recognise how powerful I truly am.” He turned to her, and Kamui reached out, her fingers hovering just over the corners of his red eye, the tomoes within it spinning and activating as he stared back at her. “I want Kakashi to feel the pain I did when he killed her.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“White Zetsu wants us to bond, remember?” He only smirked at the flat look she shot him. “Besides, the point I’m making is that we have come along way from who we once were, but to achieve our plan there is a lot further we need to go. Especially if we want to reach out utopia. It’s naïve, and extremely civilian, of you to think everything will run smoothly now you are in a position of power.”

“I’ve been betrayed, the people have lost their faith in me. I’ll be deposed of shortly.”

“The only way you will be deposed is if you keep acting like a raging lunatic, demanding peoples heads to be put on spikes.” Obito said, turning to stare up at the ceiling. “One lone farmer miles away getting too greedy and betraying you doesn’t mean every last civilian has lost all hope in you as a leader.”

“Everything has to be perfect. I have to be perfect.”

“Nothing is perfect Kamui.” He hummed lowly, Kamui faintly noticing that she could feel the soft heat radiating from him. “That’s why its going to take a lot of blood to build a utopia. If you want peace, prepare for war.”

“I wish it were easier.”

“If it was easy anyone would do it, that’s why its just us.”

Lifting her hand, Kamui brushed away several stray tears with a heavy sigh, her throat and eyes aching from the force of her crying and screaming.

“I’m the daimyō.” She whispered, her voice sounding weak and petulant even to her, listening to Obito’s non-committal hum of agreement. “Everything was supposed to be easy after I got to this point.”

“Such a shame the real world does not work like that. You’re a ruler Kamui, the only rulers who do not have a target painted on their backs are the ones with no subjects. However, I do have good news for you.”

Kamui ran a hand over her face, sighing softly as the ruined makeup led to back stains on her fingertips. She sat up, accepting Obito’s offered hand and standing upright on unsteady feet, her husband and protector rising with her off of the floor.

“If you want full devotion,” he continued, “then you need to find a way for your subjects to adore you for what you have done, not because you’re better than the last person. You have support from the religious cultists for your own beliefs, and from the farmlands because of you background, but your support in court is waning.”

“You’ve been busy.” She muttered, sitting down by her desk, reviewing the scroll in front of her. “What’s your proposal?”

“We take back Uzushio.”

That surprised her, her head snapping it to stare at him in shock, black eyes wide as his singular red one stared back.

“Uzushio is an independent nation.” She started carefully, placing down the scroll to look at him as if he had grown mad. “Tea and Whirlpools were allies, sister-nations through religion, not one had ownership over the other. They broke off our nations pact to devote allegiance to Fire. We cannot take back what we never had.”

“Uzushio is independent, but the land its ruins lay upon is not.”

“That may be true, but the land was sold two hundred years ago, Tea has about as much as a right to the land as a commoner has to the throne.”

“And yet, here you sit.”

Kamui’s eyes shot up, tiredly glaring at him through her still wet lashes.

“The point still stands, we cannot suddenly place our power over somewhere we don not own. That would lead to war. Fire may be pleased that we helped them, as minor as it was, but they will invade if they believe we are slighting their own past connections with Whirlpool. We cannot win any shinobi powered war Obito, let alone one against Fire.”

“We’re not taking anything.” Obito insisted, gesturing to a passage near the end of the contract, detailing the terms in which the land was sold from Tea to the newly formed groups of Whirlpool. “It’s already ours.”

“We sold the land under stipulations, that’s why Whirlpool got it so cheaply.”

“Under the specific stipulation that the land will remain theirs as long as a singular person continues to breath on Uzushio. Continues to call it theirs.” Obito grinned, sliding his mask back onto his face as Kamui gaped at the contract in amazement. “But no one breathes on Uzushio. Not now.”

“So… it’s ours.” She breathed out in surprise, the sadness and pain of the betrayal fading into the background as she traced the kanji on the scroll. “Whirlpool is now a territory of Tea.”

“The court will support the idea of another great empire of Tea, just like those recorded in your ancient scrolls.” Obito tilted his head behind the mask, a grin spreading across Kamui’s face. “And you will be its ruler.”

…

“Your majesty.” A voice called out, Kamui only humming in acknowledgment as she looked over the court grounds. Rows of green and flowers staring back at her, lined with pink cherry blossoms hanging over the path, the soft breeze rippling her red and gold kimono, the jewels of her headpiece catching the soft light.

“Councilman Daishi.” She greeted, though her eyes never left the grounds before her. “Congratulations on your promotion.”

The scholar only bowed his head in silent acknowledgment, Kamui turning to watch as he stood silently next to her.

“I wish the means were more on my own merits rather than the dishonour of another councilman.”

The rumours surrounding Jonto and his clan’s sudden departure where persistent, and while Kamui knew none of her councilman or guards would breathe a word, even she could not stop the rumour mill once it had begun to spin.

“The means of getting somewhere do not change the end result.” She hummed softly, gesturing to the maid lingering at the edge of the plaza. “Do you have any idea why I called you here?”

“No, your majesty.”

Taking the scroll from the maid, she handed it to the councilman, turning away from him as he read its contents. Watching his face grow from confusion to apprehension to understanding to astonishment.

“Your majesty…” Daishi started, rapture colouring every inch of his face. “This- this would change the entire political and power make up of Tea.”

“Yes, it would.” She agreed, tilting her head like an inquisitive bird as she stared back at him. “The question I am asking you is: would it work?”

Kamui knew it would work, but Daishi didn’t need to know that.

“Taking Uzushio would revolutionise our economy, we can regain control of the quartz and have a precious stone trade that would rival Iwa.” Daishi was beginning to ramble, the man practically vibrating where he stood at the prospects of the idea Kamui had set out before him. “We’d have a complete monopoly on this part of the Endless Sea, further international integrity. We’d finally have the land influence that the Great Shinobi Nations would no longer sideline us just because we are a small nation. With this-” He cut himself off, taking a deep breath and holding the scroll as if it was a newborn child. “With this we will be an empire again.”

“Like the Tea our ancestors cherished.” She agreed.

“Ma’am, just the ideas written in this scroll is the closest we have come to the Golden Age of Tea in a hundred years.”

Turning away from him, Kamui scanned the grounds, watching Obito take down another soldier in their mock fight, his sword catching the light as it arched forward. Without her noticing, her hands curled around the banister surrounding the plaza, a small smile tugging along the edges of her lips.

A Golden Age.

Kamui liked the sound of that.

“You would need a name of course.” Daishi was continuing to ramble, speaking even though Kamui wasn’t full paying attention. “Daimyō would no longer be a reasonable title for an empire, something closer to what we used to have. Princess? Queen?”

“Princess is for little girls, councilman.” Kamui hummed, turning towards him with a soft smile. “And Queen is for underachievers.” She turned, the man staring back at her in amazement as a sly grin painted its way across her face. “This is an empire, is it not? I want to be Empress.”

 “All hail Empress Kamui.” The scholar agreed, his eyes shining as if he was about to cry. Fingers twitching as if he ached to preserve this moment onto a thousand scrolls, to describe every whisper, every ray of light that shined onto the courtyard, every stitched sequence on Kamui’s kimono.

“All hail.” Kamui echoed, turning her head to stare over the grounds, from the other side of the courtyard, she caught Obito’s eye, the male stopping his practiced motions for a moment to nod at her, and despite the presence of his mask she could tell that he was smiling.

All hail.

Chapter Text

Uzushio was desolate.

A ghost town between the churning waves of the Endless Sea. Miles of nothing but rubble and the faint whispers of what once was a fearsome nation filled with fearsome shinobi with powers that the common folk could only dream of. Now, all that was left of their grand statues was the unrecognisable slab of precious stone. Uzushio had fell before Kamui’s time, during the Second War, but she had heard stories about it. A grand island that emerged from the whirlpools surrounding it, filled with raw chakra, and keeping its own secrets. It had originally been a territory in the Empire of Tea, but then sold in good will when the golden age collapsed amongst all the nations.

Now, just as it had been, just as will be with all things, Uzushio and the Land of Whirlpools had returned to the loving arms of Tea.

Running her hand over the faded and chipped inscriptions, Kamui could feel the frown that grew on her features as she stared over the dust filled landscape. Her excavation team and experts forming groups around large tables in the middle of the complex of tents they had set up, muttering amongst themselves, and gesturing wildly to each other.

“Kamui.”

“Obito.” She replied lowly, tilting her head to look at the ninja that hovered against her shoulder. “Find anything interesting?”

“Uzushio was known for its bloodlines of great chakra strength and capabilities, it will take a few days to break the secrets inside their sealing scrolls but I’m confident in my ability.” He paused for a moment, his dark eye moving from her to the council around the tables. “They are not very observant, your council, they have yet to notice that either of us are here.”

“They are picked for their knowledge of Uzushio, and the materials we can gain from it, not their ability to act like ninja.”

“They will get themselves killed lacking such a skill.”

The bluntness of the statement made her sigh heavily, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the dramatics.

“They’re not warriors Obito, they’re scholars and labourers, no one is particularly looking to kill them.”

Her husband only hummed in faint agreement, his head slightly tilted as he watched the scholars quietly debate amongst themselves. Some pointing to the centre of Uzushio while others gestured wildly to the outskirts. From where she stood, she could not hear them above the breeze that blew past them, but the mere possibility of it all made her breath a little lighter.

“No matter how terrible their observation skills are, we cannot stay here for long, not unless you want Tea to notice we have disappeared.” He said, his eye falling away from the group to look at her.

“Keep an eye on them.” She said softly, her own dark eyes still watching the appointed council of Uzushio. “You sense anything; corruption, conspiracy, defiance, I want to know. I want the mere idea of desertion from Tea to be squashed before it reaches their conscious.”

“You don’t trust them?”

“I trusted Kento and look where that got me.” She paused for a moment, finally turning to look at him, the jewels twisted into her hair chiming against each other in the wind. “Besides, you were going to do it anyway.”

Even though she couldn’t see it, she could sense the smirk that flashed behind his mask.

“Whatever you wish, Empress.”

Heavy is the head that wears the crown, but staring across the pure promise that Uzushio held, Kamui had never felt lighter.

…

She breaths in, watching the elaborate painting on the ceiling with glazed eyes.

Kamui is seventeen, and there is only a handful of things she knew to be completely true.

She is an Empress, she is a murderer, the other nations live in the fine line between friend and enemy, and she would give her life for the prosperity of Tea. Obito is neither her friend nor her enemy, and she does not trust Zetsu.

All these statements are true, yet they weigh heavy on her tongue like a lie.

She breathes out, and bells ring across the courtyard, signalling the coming of the new day, the priests outside yelling their blessing to the goddess, thanking her as she watched over them on the passing on the new day.

Kamui is eighteen, and the jewels on her head are heavy, and the blood on her hands is her favourite shade of red. She does not feel guilt, for guilt is for those that did wrong for themselves not for the greater good.

“The Lord-Husband is here to see you Empress.” A maid called out through the doors of the shrine, Kamui turning away from the ceiling to face the statue in front of her.

“Let him in.” She replied, dusting off her skirts as she stood, the door opening and closing quickly to allow Obito passage, not like the ninja was restricted by things such as doors.

“Kamui.” He greeted, his lack of formality making her give him a flat look. “Happy Birthday.”

“Another year, another point of change.” Kamui hummed, stepping away from the prayer slabs to speak to him. “Uzushio and Tea are developing side by side, it is the greatest gift I could ask for.”

“Zetsu is planning to speak to you soon, it wants to progress to the next stage.”

“And what is this next stage?”

“Access on an international scale, I’ve been laying the groundwork in Rain, but it needs an imperial push. We are developing faster than any other nation and the major players are taking interest. They hear about a concubine that has taken power, and how Tea has taken Uzushio, we scare them.”

Kamui only sighed heavily, turning from him to stare up at the towering of the goddess before them. The divine woman offered them a hand, all three of her eyes staring down at them serenely, a form of the goddess so rarely represented in art.

“They are fat cats with an inherited title, a snail with the wrong shape of shell would scare them.”

“The point remains.” Obito paused for a moment, glancing from the statue to Kamui. “The summit of the leaders is nearing. The war is drawing to a close, and Konoha has the upper hand. They hope calling a meeting will diffuse the tension between the nations. The war will drag on for another year at least either way, no matter what they agree, it just determines how long it continues after that.”

“Tea has not been invited to a leaders summit in decades.” Kamui waved off, the precious stones intertwined in her hair glittering in the candlelight of the private shrine. “We shouldn’t worry about it, we have more pressing issues then scavenging for an invite to such a thing.”

“Tea was not invited for decades.” Obito corrected, offering her the scroll from his belt. “It changes now.”

Accepting the scroll, Kamui rolled it open, kneeling closer to the candlelight to read the carefully inked kanji before her. Scanning over it, she noted the gold lacing the edges of the scroll, the penmanship crisp and perfect, the scroll of a luxurious quality.

Chaba no Kamui, Empress of Tea and Whirlpool

It begins, and she can practically read the bitterness laced between the kanji of her title.

You are hereby invited to the Summit of Leaders, taking place on neutral territory between Fire and Sand.

Even with the bitterness, Kamui could not stop the grin as it spread across her face, her trembling fingers reaching out to trace the words before her. Obito hovered over her shoulder as she slowly stood away from the candles, snapping the scroll shut and bowing deeply to the goddess before her.

“Divine Mother,” She stated, her voice trembling with pure joy. “I will not fail you, you will be freed, and the lands will flourish with you benevolence.”

Straightening from her bow, Kamui turned to her husband, Obito’s red eye watching her from behind his mask, the grin on her face only growing wider.

“Don’t look so down Obito.” She breathed out. “It is a beautiful day for the empire, and the nations will know that we are to be feared.”

“Kamui-” He cut himself off, his red eye moving to stare at the statue of the goddess behind her.

The woman in question paused at the entrance of the shrine, turning her head to look at her husband, watching him falter and hesitate.

What is wrong Obito?

What have you done?

The questions hover on the tip of her tongue but she remains silent, watching him swallow against his own words, shaking his head as if it would rid him off the moment that had already passed.

“The summit is in six months, we have time to grow stronger, to gain our own allies.” He said, going against whatever, he was going to say originally.

“Konoha will have favour for us, we helped them immensely in their war effort, and Namikaze will wear the Hokage hat before the end of next year.” She replied, her hand hovering in the doorway, their shoulders barely brushing against each other. “Who else is there?”

“Rain.”

“Rain is in civil war, that is why it is not involved in the grander one. You truly believe it will be a good ally?”

“I believe its emerging trio of leaders have great potential for the prosperity of not only Tea but our personal ventures. Zetsu demands it of us Kamui, he grows more impatient by the day.”

Pushing aside the door of the shrine, Kamui smiled as the fresh air hit her face, the midnight moon hanging high above them as bells ran through the city, chiming to welcome the new day.

“Well, lest be it that I ever cause upset to our darling Zetsu.” The sarcasm is heavy on her tongue. “What’s your plan, Obito?”

…

Kamui stormed through the corridors, several members of her staff scurrying like rats out of her way and bowing as she passed. Usually, she would acknowledge them with a smile or nod, but not now. Dawn split its way across the sky above the imperial palace and yet Kamui could not pause even for a moment to admire its beauty. Reaching the end of the corridor, Kamui threw open the door to the office, fury strangling her like fire and smoke in her throat, the vile taste of ash settling on her tongue.

“Zetsu!” She shouted into the open air, fury lacing her voice as she burst into the darkened room, knowing that the creature could hear her. “Zetsu! I demand your presence!”

“You asked for me Empress?” The creature replied to her screams, slinking out of the shadows, and stopping in front of her.

“Rain.” She hissed, her voice blunt and trembling with anger.

“What of Rain, Empress?”

“We will not be going forward with your plan, it is vile, disgusting and immoral and Tea nor myself will have no part in it.”

“The goddess-”

“The goddess nor my faith in her has no part in this conversation.” Kamui snapped, the anger running through her veins making her shake and hiss, while Zetsu just stared at her blankly, no emotion seen within its wide inhuman eyes. “The goddess is benevolent, the goddess loves her children. The only contorted brain this has come from Zetsu is your own.”

“I am her will.” Zetsu’s voice is empty, echoing as if he was speaking in an underground cavern rather than stood in front of her. “Who are you question me Kamui?”

“I question it.” She said, gripping her skirts as she stepped away from him, glancing behind her as Obito silently slipped into the room from one of his many portals. “How much contact do you truly have with the Divine Mother Zetsu? Is it enough? I do not believe so, not even for a moment. Not now. The goddess would not approve of… she would not approve of this.”

“What part of the plan would she not approve of Kamui?”

No longer Empress, to him she has never deserved the title, just her name and the creature says it like it tastes badly on it tongue.

“What part would she approve of?” She said, hysterical as she gestured around the dark room. “You wish to manipulate an entire country with a history as rich as ours, you wish to control children, to murder them.”

“They are shinobi Kamui, not children.” Obito pointed out, his voice low her wide eyes turning to him, her mouth open with horror. “They matured to adulthood the moment they took on the title.”

“How old are they?”

She already knew, but the fact of it needed to be revisited.

The plan was vile and immoral, and the mere idea that they thought she would’ve been okay with it made Kamui want to throw up.

“Kamui-”

“How old are they, Obito?!” She shouted, Obito not meeting her eyes as she glared at them both, practically inconsolably hysterical.

Obito took a deep breath before speaking, as if him being calm would influence her to do the same.

He was wrong.

“They’re fourteen.”

“Fourteen!” Kamui screamed, spinning to glare at Zetsu. “They’re fourteen Zetsu!”

“And if I recall you were ten when you were stolen into slavery Kamui.” Zetsu said blankly, staring back at her with empty eyes. “There is no such thing as a childhood in this world Kamui, that’s why we must change it.”

“There is no childhood in this world, that is true, but we will not change it by destroying the very thing we promised to protect.” She stated, Obito refusing to meet her eyes while Zetsu just stared back at her. “Your plan is vile, we should be helping these children, not setting up events that lead to the death of one of them, and the permanent mental damage to the other two. I will not help you in this, Tea and none of its resources will aide you in this. It would be over my dead body that such a thing is allowed to occur.”

“That could be arranged.”

The factual statement of it made her stumble, stepping away from the creature, her eyes wide in horror and her mouth agape at the audacity of saying such a thing.

“What did you say Zetsu?”

She had heard him loud and clear, and from the look flickering in Zetsu’s eyes he knew it too.

“This would make Tea prosperous, powerful beyond imagination Kamui, do no want that?” Obito tried to placate, Kamui’s eyes sliding to glare at him for going against her.

“Tea will be prosperous, a golden age is at our fingertips with how resourceful Uzushio has been for us. However, this age will not be built off of the murder of a child and the manipulation of two others. That is not what we stand for as a nation.”

“It’s already built off of the back of murder Kamui.” Obito pointed out.

“But not children.” She argued, her hands curling into fists. “Never children.”

“Even the young prince you convinced to be smothered?” Zetsu spoke up once more, a sick grin stretching across its face as he spoke, Kamui flinching at the accusation.

“That was different, the babe wasn’t going to make it through the night either way.” Kamui quickly defended herself, breathing heavily through the tears that decorated the edges of her eyelashes. “It’s not my fault the nurse already believed he was a changeling.”

“That doesn’t change the fact you turned your back long enough to be sure she had completely killed him before you intervened.” Zetsu continued to grin unnaturally. “This golden age is already built on the death of children.”

“He was a babe, he still had attachment to the spirit world, it wasn’t murder.” Kamui hissed back. “I have done no wrong.”

“Kamui-” Obito tried to placate once more, Kamui only raising her palm to silence him, her eyes never leaving Zetsu’s.

“My decision is final, this plan is not proceeding further already has. Obito, stop your manipulation of Rain, protect the children, they may rise to leadership, but they will not die by our whims doing it. I will decide in the morning how much we will intervene, but you current plan is vile, and I refuse to do it.”

“Your decision is made?” Zetsu asked, tilting his head, and making the words seem so unnaturally final.

“My decision is made.” Kamui confirmed, turning on her heel and leaving the room.

Breathing heavily, she curled against the closed door, stepping away from the doorway and slipping to stay on the other side of the door frame, stepping into the shadows and breathing in deeply, pressing her ear against the wall connecting back into the room and closing her eyes, straining her ears to be able to hear inside.

She had done it before, when she feared the emperor would discuss plans for the concubines as soon as the left, she knew the weak points in the walls, and how to stay out of sight and keep focused on the conversation.

“Kamui is turning into an unpredictable variable, and one that is easily replaceable.” Black Zetsu hissed like a snake, and she could imagine him slithering within the shadows of the walls, Kamui remaining still in her hiding place, biting her tongue so not to breathe too heavily. “I believe it’s time we revisit our first plan for her.”

“Killing her would cause civil unrest and topple Tea into a civil war.” Obito stated, his voice as cold as ice. “We cannot bargain on that much chaos and confusion.”

“Chaos and confusion are our ultimate allies, and the power vacuum she would leave behind is enough to urge another war. Especially if we play our cards right and place Konoha as the ultimate suspect. The confusion would give us enough times to snatch the beasts.”

“Accelerating our plan by years.” Obito stated, realisation and joy colouring his voice as Kamui resisted the urge to tremble in horror.

“Think about it Obito.” The creature hissed with a nod, slowly being swallowed by the shadows that surrounded it. “You know what the best course of action is. You’ve grown weak, and Rin cannot be revenged while you are weak.”

She could not see them, their voices growing too low and rushed for her to hear. Quietly, she stepped away from the wall. The horror and fear rushing through her veins making her hands shake and her shoulders tremble. The silence around her is deafening, ringing in her ears, and crushing against her throat.

The truth is damning, and it comes to Kamui like a rush of freezing water poured over her head.

Obito is going to kill her.

Kill her and undo all she had done to drag Tea out of chaos and desolation.

And she could do nothing to stop him if he truly desired to do it.

…

The reaper hangs over her head as Kamui stirs her tea, staring at the dagger laying in the centre of the low table, considering how best to approach it. The sun hung high in the sky, and it had been a week since her confrontation with Zetsu, a week of looking over her shoulder and dancing around Obito’s temper, hoping to give herself more time.

“The Lord is here, Empress.” A maid called out from the other side of the door, a soft knock ripping her from her thoughts.

Ripping the dagger away from the table, Kamui hid it between her many skirts, smoothing out the many layers of red fabric and taking in a deep breath.

“Let him in.”

“Kamui.” Obito greeted, taking off his mask once the door had closed, the bright skylight above them allowing them the view of the clear sky, the sun shining high above them, catching the light of the jewels intertwined with Kamui’s intricate braided updo. Two strings of diamonds hung separate from the rest, resting in front of both of her ears and brushing against her chin as she spoke.

“Obito.”

“I do have to ask if you have changed your mind about Rain, you have been avoiding my questions.” He took a long sip of the tea she offered him, withdrawing her hands to pour her own cup but not drinking from it.

“The plan is vile, we both know it, I do not understand why you would even consider it as a possibility.” She said bluntly, watching him take another long sip of his tea as he hummed at her words, the dagger in her lap heavy as her hands tightened around her teacup.

“There is no other way Kamui, I do wish you would consider it.”

“There are multiple other ways of doing this, and I could help you see it if you told me what the full plan was.” Kamui took in a deep breath, trying desperately to steel her nerves. “I refuse this is the way the goddess would want us to do this, no matter what Zetsu says.”

“Truly, your final thoughts on it?”

“As I have said the past week.”

Obito softly placed down his empty cup, his hands moving to be hidden under the table.

“That is a shame Kamui.” He said gently, the woman in question nodding in agreement. “I’m sorry our time together had to end like this.”

Kamui doesn’t even have time to blink before he is on the other side of the table, the sword she had gifted him pressed against her neck, and the dagger hidden between her skirts ripped away from her grasp and thrown across the room.

“You think I didn’t notice the dagger as soon as I stepped in?” He scoffed, the sword catching the reflection of the sun above them, ripples of silver spreading across Kamui’s face as she stared back at him. “What do you know Kamui?”

“You’re going to kill me on the order of Zetsu.” She stated, pursing her lips, and staring at the blue sky visible above them, knowing that no one would arrive in time if she screamed or fought against it. “It’s such a shame this was what you picked Obito, I did hold out hope for you.”

“What are you going to do about it, Kamui?” Obito snarled, the edge of the sword resting softy against her jugular, the string of jewels in her hair also resting against the metal, both materials catching the light as it shone through the skylight, Kamui’s dark eyes watching his spinning red one. “You cannot overpower me.”

“I can’t.” The smile pulling at her lips is bitter, the tears gathering around her eyelashes. “We both know its not possible, you would gain the upper hand in a moment and my death would be painful. Even if I pulled a knife on you, you would just turn it onto me. There is no possible way for me to overpower you physically.” She laughed lowly, the tragic smile on her face pulling into a watery grin. “That’s why I poisoned your tea instead.”

Obito faltered, his single red eye widening in horror as they both turned their heads to stare at his empty teacup.

“That’s the problem with powerful men Obito. You think you can overpower anyone physically, and it might even be true. You spend so much time punching your way out of your problems that you never stop to think someone would come at you in such a way. Shinobi are all the same, you spend so much time worrying about the poison darts I could aim at your head, you don’t even stop to consider the poison I could put in your tea and serve to you with a smile.”

“Why would you do that?” He hissed, his red eye spinning and glowing as he growled down at her, putting more pressure on her neck. “I need to live, I have a plan, and I have a clear way of fulfilling it. I need to avenge her Kamui, I need to make this world better. You would truly try to kill me? What’s stopping me from slitting your throat and finding an antidote myself?”

“You could, and I couldn’t stop you. However, there is a slight issue with your plan. You won’t be able to find an antidote, I’m the one that created the poison, I know how to make the antidote. I just haven’t made any yet, and do you really believe you could figure out what I gave you in time for you to live?” She grinned to herself, dark eyes sparkling with hysterical giddiness as Obito glared down at her. “Oh, my darling husband, if I’m going down then I am going to be dragging you down with me. I left a will with my scholars, a ruler named within it, if both of us die then Zetsu’s plan will topple to the ground before its eyes.”

“You would die? Even if this plan is the wish of your precious goddess?”

“For the prosperity of Tea?” Kamui hissed, raising her chin, and glaring back at him. “I would do anything.”

Obito’s red eye brightened even further, glowing despite the brightness already present in the room, the sun watching them from the skylight, its rays cutting through the jewels in her hair, casting splashes of the rainbow against his face.

They both know her words to be true.

For Tea, Kamui would do anything.

Even kill, even manipulate, even go against the will of the goddess.

What was dying compared to all of that?

The reaper hovered over both of them, and Kamui couldn’t help but grin back at it.

Chapter Text

Swallowing against her fear, Kamui pursed her lips and strengthened her glare, her robes, and her lips as red as blood as she shifted on her pillow, her robes spreading around her, contrasting the wood as well as she thought her blood will when Obito finally decided to slice down.

Obito’s eye is red as well, as red as blood, as red as roses and pomegranates and something deep down inside still loves him for it, no matter how the edges of the sword graze against her neck.

“That’s the difference between us Obito.” She stated coldly, and the reaper hovers above her head as she takes a deep breath. “I do not fear death, can you truly say the same?”

Obito did not move the sword away from her neck.

In fact, he did not move at all. His red eye only stared deeper into Kamui’s dark ones, spinning with power and hate. There was something there as well now though, flickering along the edges but enough for Kamui to grasp it, something that had not been there before.

Respect.

“You’re smarter than you look Kamui.” He stated after centuries of silence had passed between them, his sword only slightly moving away from her vulnerable neck. “I’ll give you that at the very least. Go on then little Empress, what do you want?”

“I want to live. I want to walk out of this room alive.” Kamui hissed back, her eyes quickly darting down at the sword still resting against the soft skin of her jugular. “That would be a good start.”

“Give me the antidote and we can happily discuss the rest.”

“I give you the antidote and you will kill me, do you really think I’m that stupid?”

“A bit, yeah.”

She only glared back at him, watching his red eye spin with contemplation, the black tomoes within it almost vibrating with energy, catching the light of the sun as it bled through the skylight above them.

“The clocks ticking my consort.” She finally stated, watching him adjust his grip on the sword. “What are going to do?”

Kamui doesn’t know many things. She doesn’t know why the sun rises each morning, or how chakra manifests differently in every person and yet is alive in everything, she doesn’t know how clouds form or how to skin an animal for its meat and fur. However, she does know many about powerful men. She knew how they worked, she knew how to challenge, she knew how to tease. She knew what made them tick.

Obito, as young as he was, was no different.

And if there was one thing Kamui knew for certain it was that no matter what, self preservation would always win.

The sword slowly left her neck.

“What do you want Kamui?”

“Zetsu cannot suspect anything.” She began, leaning backwards and massaging her neck. “While we wont touch Rain, we need to still follow most of his decrees, he can’t suspect that we’re working together. That will just land us both being killed. No. We need to work carefully, let him continue to move as he pleases, forcing our hands to move his chess pieces. You’re plan, whatever it may be, means little to me. Do what you wish. All I ask is that you leave those poor children be. Is it truly that big of a pawn to lose in exchange for your continued existence?” The tightening of Obito’s jaw told her all she needed to know. “I didn’t think so. Leave the children, let Tea’s reign prosper, and you may continue to live.”

“If not?”

“I know poisons a lot harsher than the one currently burning through your bloodstream Obito. Some that would kill you in seconds, others that would make you wish you were dead. Would you like to find out?”

He considered for a moment, spinning the sword in his hand as he weighed up his options.

“You’re not very intimidating Kamui.” Obito stated, looking at her with his only eye, his spiky black hair covering the rest of his face. “But if it wasn’t for your awful chakra pathways you would’ve made a good kunoichi.”

“I’m better than a kunoichi ever would be, Obito.” She said, the diamonds hanging on either side of her face casting rainbows on the soft skin of her neck. “I’m an Empress.”

“I suppose you are.” He muttered to himself. “Now are you going to give me the antidote or not?”

“You have to swear.” She said, watching him as he stared at the sword. “You have to swear to me.”

“Why does my word matter?” Obito asked, raising his red eye to analyse her desperate face. “It’s not like either of us has any honour.”

“It’s something.”

Obito only hummed lowly in thought, tilting his head as he considered his options.

“Fine.” He stated, sheathing the sword, and looking up at her. “I swear that I won’t kill you, but I can say very little about what Zetsu will do to both of us if he finds out.”

“I can live with that.” Kamui nodded, reaching behind her head, and pulling out a long golden pin from her elaborate updo, spinning it in her hand, the golden dragon curled on the end of it opening it’s mouth to reveal a tiny pouch of herbs which she dropped into Obito’s outstretched hand. “Mix these with freshwater and apply it to your gums, you’ll live.”

“You said that you didn’t have any.” He spoke after a brief pause, glancing from the herbs to her and then back to the herbs in his hand.

“It’s called lying Obito.” Kamui waved off slowly rising to her feet and fixing the pin back into her hair, stepping around him to quietly leave the room. “You should try it sometime.”

…

The sand stretched for miles around them, decorated with scraps and ribbons as Kamui and her entourage moved forward, the moon hanging high above them, and the night of the dessert biting as they drew to the entrance of the temporary camp. Soldiers of every country parading the perimeter, casting dark looks at each other, the only light available emitting from the hundreds of lit candles stuck in the sand.

It may not be war as soldiers or shinobi know it, but Kamui is smart enough to know when there will be a war of wills.

Obito stood on her right, and Kamui cannot say for certain whether the hand he has resting on his sword means to strike at her or at the foreign shinobi around them. The incident from two days ago still hangs high above their heads, and they are miles away from the comforting security and fortitude of Tea, if he were to kill her, now would be the time.

“Ah, the fabled Empress of Tea.” A voice called out, Kamui snapping closed her fan, discreetly flicking it diagonally, indicating her guard to be cautious. “I did not know if you would accept the invitation to join us.”

Folding her hands into the long sleeves of her red kimono, the gold embroidery catching the light of the lanterns around them as she moved forward, her  guards standing on attention while Obito moved just as step behind her, the sword he had held to her throat a few weeks ago now strapped to his back, his mask secured onto his face and covering his features.

“The notorious Rasa of Gold Dust.” Kamui greeted in return, the red haired leader stepping out of the shadows of the sand, his ninja comrades standing silently behind him. “I do not miss any opportunity to strengthen foreign alliances for Tea, I hope our communication can rival even that of my precious predecessor.”

“Tea and Wind have always been such good allies, I hope our special relationship through the old religion will continue to prosper for years to come as it has prospered in the past.” Rasa stated, both of them walking towards the entrance of the tent, Rasa opening the flaps and Kamui trailing after him, Obito an ever-present shadow behind her while the rest of the guard remained outside, already staring down the other countries forces.

The special song and dance of politics, double entendre’s and motives dipped in honeysuckle and gold.

Kamui had missed it.

“May the goddess smile upon our meeting.” Kamui hummed, her eyes briefly flickering to the glowing moon hanging high above them before the flaps of the tent fluttered closed, a consistent watcher and judge to her every move.

“Who invited the old religion witch?” The Iron daimyo hissed, Kamui raising a single eyebrow and tilting her head as she hummed.

“A mean thing to say to the woman keeping your people alive.” She commented absentmindedly, waving off the servant going to pour the water in her cup as she took her designated seat at the table, Obito hovering behind her, hands folded behind his back.

“There’s a reason the old religion will die with Tea.”

“And there is a reason this war will die with you.” She returned, Obito moving his head, the his only eye visibly glancing at her in warning, his fingers drifting towards the hilt of his sword before she waved him off. “But that has little consequence now. As far as I know we are here to discuss an end to this mindless slaughter of our people, and I would prefer if the current conversation reflected as such.”

“Do not pretend like Tea has done anything but play treasury throughout this entire war.” The Fire daimyo stated, leaning back in his chair and sipping at his tea. “You know nothing of mindless slaughter. Fire has suffered immense losses, families and homes destroyed to rubble.”

“Fire is the one that knows nothing.” Rasa hissed back, folding his arms and glaring back at the leader. “You abandoned the old ways and look where you are now, overly arrogant and sending children to die on battlefields which they do not belong.”

It took all of Kamui’s power not to flinch, keeping her face perfectly blank, a practised look of ambiguity while all she truly wanted was to shove away her glass in disgust. Next to her, Obito does not have the practise or poise to do what she does, she can feel him stiffen underneath his black coat, his only visible eye darkening behind the mask, as if he was remembering something terrible.

Who are you Obito? She considered briefly, her fingers twitching with the sudden need to have them around his throat. What do you really stand for? Do you truly work for Zetsu, or do you work for me? Do you even work for anyone other than yourself?

She has no answers to any of her questions, and her red stained fingertips trace the natural lines in the oak table, the dignified leaders of their respective countries beginning to argue like children fighting over a sandbox, or the last piece of their parents cooking.

The song and dance of politics had always been so primitive.

Tilting her head towards the roof of the tents, Kamui considered her options.

“You are sending children to their deaths.” She stated, loud enough to be heard over the deep ramblings of Iron’s leader. “You are sending innocent children to their deaths.”

Kamui had heped that it was not true, that these men had at least some sense of dignity and compassion for their people, just enough not to send their son’s and daughters into a battlefield where they will almost certainly die.

Apparently, she had asked for too much.

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken Empress Kamui.” The daimyo of Fire immediately tried to damage control, the shinobi behind him looking down at his feet, unable to meet Kamui’s eyes. “They are genin and chuunin, they are legally adults.”

“Can they buy sake from any stall in this nation or the next?”

“Empress Kamui-“

“Then they are not legally adults in any sense, are they Fire Daimyo?”

“I do not think I have any place on this table.” Kamui sighed, drawing her hands back inside the sleeve of her kimono.

“Finally, something we agree on.” The Iron Daimyo grumbled into the rim of his mug.

“Empress Kamui, I know you’re civilian sensibilities may have no taste for war but your economic guidance and the continuation of it means that you must be here for negotiations.”

Civilian.

The word empress must taste so bitter in their mouth if they still think of her as a civilian, as if Kamui does not now hold the strongest economic security out of all of them.

Fine.

If they want Kamui to play the weak little civilian with no place in war, then Kamui will show them the empress with no patience for their petty squabbles over territory and power.

“I suppose you are right, I have no background in war, I have no army of shinobi at my disposal and no want for territory that I don’t already own. However, I do have two very distinct things that you do not.”

“And what might they be?” Iron spat, the Fire Daimyo sitting rigid in his seat, the shinobi behind him rigid, his hands tense by his side as if he was preparing for a blood bath.

“Economic prosperity, and common human decency.” Kamui spat back, rising from her seat, her husband stepping slightly closer to her as she did. “If that is how you want to fuel a war I am apparently funding then I will no longer fund it. None of it. They’re will be no imports or exports from Tea until this war is over. Tea can survive in isolation, can you survive without Tea?”

“Empress Kamui, I must insist against it, innocent children will die.”

“Apparently innocent children are already dying Fire Daimyo, so what difference does it make?”

“Empress Kamui-”

“Tobi, darling.” Kamui blatantly interrupted, turning to her husband with a polite smile, the codename and the endearment naturally slipping out in the presence of the enemy. “I think we’re done here, I’d like to go now.”

“Of course my dear.” Obito nodded, offering her his gloved hand, and inclining his head to the rest of the room, and with a single pull they both disappear.

…

They think she is bluffing.

They think it is an empty threat and she wont do it, they think that she will continue to fund their petty squabbles while knowing that they are sending innocent children to die with the empty promise of glory.

She slams the gates of Tea in their face and her people hold their own children tight and sing her praises.

The peaceful protector, they name her, the imperial mother, the future of Tea.

Kamui had never been one for any type of maternal instincts, but she can admit that the name imperial mother tastes so sweet coming from the lips of her subjects.

It takes another three days for the other issue at hand to present itself.

Obito goes from sitting across the room from her, mildly grimacing in discomfort and rubbing his throat absentmindedly, until a coughing fit sends him to be hunched over, Kamui calmly looking up from her work to watch him carefully.

“What is this?” He gurgled, spitting out blood on the pure wood floor, his one eye wide with shock and horror as he brought a scarred hand to his lips, drawing the tips of his fingers back to stare at the fresh blood.

“Insurance.” Kamui answered calmly, tilting her head, and watching him carefully from her chair. “You really think you can betray me like that, and I would just let it go?”

“What did you do Kamui?”

“You thought you could betray me.” She hissed, leaning forward in her chair, and glaring down at him. “You thought you could put a sword to my throat and threaten to kill me. I didn’t get this far in my life by just laying down on my back and taking it, Obito.”

“Debateable.” Obito hissed back, his hand going to the hilt of his sword. “I thought laying on your back was a key feature for a concubine.”

Kamui slammed her hand down on the vanity, the force causing the porcelain vase next to her to shake violently, red petals falling to the floor.

“I’m still your Empress, Obito.” She warned lowly, shaking the stray petals off of her hand with a sigh, tilting her head slightly as she continued. “It’s not so much the poison I gave you but the herbs I gave you to cure it, they’re a good preventative, the only caveat is that you need to keep taking them every week or so.”

“You weren’t lying about there not being an antidote.”

“No, I wasn’t.” She nodded, opening the drawer underneath her vanity, and throwing another pouch of herbs over her shoulder at him. “And the only person who knows the herbs that I give you is me, so if you want to keep living you have to keep me alive. As long as I live, then you live. Until death do us part, my dear. It seems only fitting.”

“This is not going to work, you know. Zetsu will kill you if he believes you’re getting in the way of his plans.”

Kamui couldn’t help but laugh slightly at that, the sound ringing across the room like the toll of an undertakers bell.

“Then it’s perfect you now have a truly vested interest in keeping me alive isn’t it, Obito?” She grinned, reapplying the red to her lips as she met the eyes of his reflection in the mirror.

“I’ll kill you.” He hissed out through gritted teeth, his grip around his sword making his knuckles white. “I’ll kill you one day, Kamui.”

The Empress of Tea only smirked at her own reflection, rearranging the diamonds the fell from her hair like raindrops on either side of her face, untwisting the silver chain that held them hanging by her jawline.

“The best of luck with that.”

Chapter Text

Obito does not speak to her.

As the war wages outside the gates of Tea, a war of silence wages within the palace walls. Even the servants do not dare to utter a word, in fear that the interruption of the silence will lead to the outbreak of the fire that burns in Obito’s only eye.

He collects the herbs, he obeys, but he does not speak.

Zetsu did not notice, and if he did then he said nothing as the days continue to go by and the war outside continues to wage. Under her control, Tea continues to prosper, and the messengers at the gates are met with nothing but scorn and steel.

A war wages outside of the gates, and Kamui has her own war waging in her mind as she paces the perimeter of the imperial gardens, the tip of her fingers brushing over the soft petals of roses and peonies. Nodding in acknowledgment to the gardener as she passed, Kamui continued into the depths of the garden, the red of her kimono stark against the soft green of the grass beneath her feet.

Obito stood with his back turned to her, arms crossed behind his back as he stared over the lake, where several lotus’ were beginning to flower, the reeds around the edge of the lake swayed softly in the light breeze, the sky clear and blue with the sun shining high above them. Obito stood on the edge of the wooden platform of the lake, where Kamui had heard some of the handmaids liked to sit with their legs dangling in the water when Tea became too hot. The sword Kamui had gifted him remained on his back, laced there tightly with a strip of red silk which also tied the front of his black kimono.

Kamui stopped at the edge of the platform, today her hair was empty of the majority of her jewels and crowns, instead let loose over her shoulders, the ink black strands blowing into her eyes with the breeze.

Obito did not speak, did not even move to acknowledge her even though he knew she was there.

“Take me to Rain.” She stated, the fire that burned within her just as bright as the one that burned within Obito.

He still does not speak.

No matter.

He doesn’t have to.

Kamui will get what she wanted either way.

…

Rain was just as dreary and abysmal as it sounded, the raindrops as hard as pellets as they banged against Kamui’s skull. The cold wind that howled around them, ruffling between the many skirts of Kamui’s kimono, was a stark difference to the sun and lush green plains of her homeland.

Kamui knew there had been a reason why she had never visited Rain.

Lifting her arm, Kamui watched the torrential rain drench the sleeves of her kimono, her dark hair sticking to her forehead, the usual painted imprints on her face long since washed away by the unforgiving weather.

Of course, Obito was completely dry.

Her husband wandered silently in front of her, completely dry because  of the chakra barrier he had placed above his head, moving as he did, and shrinking away whenever Kamui attempted to seek refuge under it.

Bastard.

“This is incredibly childish.” She scowled, wiping the water away from her eyes with a huff. “I did what I had to do in a situation where my life was on the line, you cannot fault me for protecting myself Obito.”

Silence.

“You’re only angry because you didn’t think of it first.” She grumbled, her drenched kimono heavy around her shoulders and dragging her down with every step.

She was an Empress, and now she had to wade through the mud of Rain like a common farm girl.

Technically, you are a common farm girl, a small part of her brain muttered.

Shut up. Kamui hissed back at it.

“For the Goddesses sake,” she sighed heavily, her shoulders drooping under the weight as soon as she came to a stop. “At the risk of sounding like a child, are we nearly there?”

Obito paused, already several yards ahead of her, his head tilted towards the sky as the thousands of raindrops diverted themselves away from his figure

Kamui was cold, tired, drenched, and completely done with whatever game Obito was attempting to play with her.

“Because it seems like we’ve been walking for hours and I’ve seen nothing-“ Kamui cut herself off, glancing around.

The scenery behind her and in front of her was the same, as if someone had put an endless mirror on one patch of land and in reality Kamui had not gone anywhere at all, but rather walking in an endless loop for what seemed like hours.

“I’ve seen nothing new.” She whispered in horror, the rain heavy on her skin, freezing her bones and sending a shiver down her spine. “You’ve been taking me round in circles.”

Obito finally turned to her, his singular eye spinning with power, a strange cross between a smirk and a smile on his face.

“Finally,” he stated, tilting his head like a curious bird. “She realises.”

As Kamui stared into the spinning red air, the world Obito had created around her began to spin as well.

…

She came back to reality with a jolt and a sharp gasp, cold crisp air filling her lungs and shocking her back to reality.

The room around her was spinning, the floor beneath her seeming to tilt on its axis as she swayed. She seemed to be sat in a wooden chair, feeling the wood underneath her fingertips as she gripped the side, feeling the blood drain from her face and her stomach churn.

“What was that?” She managed to force it, her mouth as dry as the desert and tears threatening to leak from her eyelids.

“Genjutsu.” Obito answered, though she could not pin point where his voice was coming from as it bounced around her skull, the room continuing to spin around her. “It’s an illusion that affects all five senses, you’ll feel better in a few minutes.”

“I think I’m going to throw up.” Kamui whispered hoarsely, gripping the edge of the rotting wooden chair, her face lacking any semblance of colour.

As she blinked rapidly, the room slowly came into focus. It was small, Kamui occupying the only chair in the room, the concrete floor was covered in dirt and dust, and Kamui was fairly certain that was a blood stain next to her left foot. The walls were made of cheap metal sheets and so was the roof, the faint sound of rain hitting metal echoing the room as well as the drip of a leak in the far corner where the rain escaped into the shed.

Slowly, Kamui noticed the three fingers in the room, cdressed in black and red, watching her carefully from the shadows. The tallest had oranger hair, spiked up and secured by a shinobi band, the other male had red hair, falling into his face as well as grey eyes. The final one of the trio, the female, had purple hair and what she believed was a paper butterfly clip securing her hair away from her face.

“You shouldn’t feel like that after a genjutsu.” The ginger one muttered, leaning closer to her face. “Are you pregnant?”

“What?” She hissed, weakly turning her dark eyes to glare at the younger ginger male. “Are you implying that I’m fat?”

There was a slight scuffle, Kamui focusing back on the cobblestoned floor, trying to stifle the pained moan and keep her composure. The sound of a hand hitting someone’s head filled the room, a sharp yelp of pain following it.

“Jeez Konan, I didn’t mean it like that.” There was a soft pause, Kamui closing her eyes and praying that the room would soon stop spinning.  “It’s just, you know, pregnant women get sick in genjutsus because they’re processing too much chakra at one time.”

“You’re theory is correct but the conclusion is wrong.” Obito’s familiar tone filled the room. “it is a chakra overload, but it isn’t because Kamui is pregnant. It’s because she’s a civilian, she isn’t used to processing much chakra in the first place.”

“A civilian?” A third voice spoke up, coming from the red head lingering by the door. “How is a tiny civilian meant to help us and Rain?”

“Kamui isn’t just a civilian. “ Obito stated, Kamui herself slowly straightening up from the chair and blinking as her vision finally came into focus. “I wouldn’t have brought her if that was the case.”

“What is she to you then?” The purple haired woman spoke up, glancing between the two of them.

“An annoyance that I am technically married to.” Obito stated bluntly.

“I could say the same.” Kamui replied, slowly straightening up and facing the ginger haired man that had been speaking. “The real question of the day is: who are you?”

“I am Yahiko.” He introduced himself, pausing for a moment before gesturing to the two figures behind him. “This is Nagato and Konan.”

“You’re the rebel leaders that have that old man Hanzo in such a twist.” She recalled, glancing in between the three of them. “What did you do to have the leader of Ame himself gunning for your head?”

“Who are you to know that?”

“I am Kamui.” She smiled slightly, tilting her head and looking up at him. “I am the Empress of Tea and Whirlpool.”

“The Empress?” The red haired named Nagato asked, hovering over Yahiko’s shoulder. “Uzushio is not under the control of Tea.”

“Your focus on the little civil war you seem to be waging here seems to make you behind on current political events. Whirlpool has been under the barrier of the Tea Empire for nearly two years now.”

“They call you the Red Lotus.” Konan said, the woman appearing on the other side of Yahiko. “They say you killed the former Daimyo.”

“The official court decision states it was his wife,” Kamui waved off the comment, though her eyes were sharp, “though I suppose people will believe what they want.”

“You’re not denying it.”

“You’re trying to change the topic of conversation and failing miserably.” Kamui commented, tilting her head to the side, dark eyes surveying the three of them curiously. “You should become better than that if you wish to be a ruler, people don’t like it if they catch onto the fact you are controlling the conversation.”

“I don’t wish to be ruler, just to get rid of the current one.” Yahiko stated, his shoulders tense and his eyes as sharp as the blade he carried on his back.

“Getting rid of the old ruler, replacing him, these things go hand in hand.” Kamui tutted, slowly rising from her seat even though her legs were still trembling from the weight off the foreign chakra on her mind. “If a new leader does not immediately take the throne, then anarchy will begin to take over, and anarchy is death for any nation.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to immediately take over, there could be a vote a discussion amongst the people.”

“You already have the support from the majority of the people I have heard, why wait for some fat cat to bribe the votes in their own favour when you can just take the power that had landed in your hands?”

“Kamui wishes to speak with you.” Obito spoke up, his face covered by his usual black mask. “For what reason only she knows.”

“Why would an Empress wish to speak with us?” Konan said, examining Kamui with fierce eyes.

“Because, despite how rare it may seem such a notion is in the world, I wish to help you.” She stated, glancing between the three of them. “I know what it is like to be under terrible rule, I know what it is like to want change and not have the power to make it happen.”

“Nothing is ever one sided.” Nagato spoke up, his red hair stark against the abysmal grey and brown of their surroundings. “What would you gain from this?”

“An ally.” She said, standing up straighter and squaring her shoulders, her hands folded into the sleeve of her red kimono to hide how her fingers were trembling. “They are so hard to truly come by these days, and with both of our countries not taking part in this horrendous war, it makes sense that we ally with each other.”

“Why not just ally with Hanzo?”

“I don’t like him that much.” She replied, staring straight back at Yahiko. “He came to Tea once on a diplomatic meeting a few years ago, his taste in… small children isn’t necessarily one I agree with.”

She knew Hanzo, arguably she knew him very well, and she would rather slit her own throat then ever let that man be in the same room as her, or anyone, ever again.

“We’ll discuss it.” Yahiko said, as the Ame children began to murmur within themselves, we will let you know our decision soon.”

…

“I thought you would’ve wanted Rain for yourself.” Obito mentioned, both of them standing outside of the cabin, sheltered from the weather by the canopy of metal hanging above them.

“Too much chance of an uprising.” She answered, turning her head to look at him. “Finally deign it necessary to talk to me then?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“About my death at your hands?”

“Amongst other things.”

“How quaint.” She muttered, folding her arms and staring out over the foggy fields surrounding them. “You don’t need to control them you know, to build them into something they are not. To have power over someone doesn’t mean to make them into a puppet, that is how disobedience starts. If you truly want to control someone then you should make them loyal, make them truly believe in what you are saying.”

“Is that what you’re doing?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said Tea needed allies, our stance in the war means we have lost many, Fire and Iron certainly want nothing to do with us and Sand only stays out of centuries of friendship.” She paused for a moment, stretching her hand out with her palm up, feeling the water glide against her fingertips. “I don’t know your plan Obito, but I know enough not to agree with it. How many people must die for you to create the world that you wish?”

“I don’t care how many shinobi die, I just wish to bring back one.”

“The dead are gone Obito.” She said softly, bringing her arm out of the rain. “Don’t do them the injustice of bringing them back.”

Behind them, the door opened with a high pitched creak, Yahiko stepping into the sheltered space, glancing between the two of them.

“We have made a decision.”

“Of course.” She nodded, turning her head to look at Obito. “Please, leave us to speak.”

He nodded, silently ducking back inside the cabin, closing the door behind him, leaving Yahiko and Kamui out in the rain.

“You really are an Empress?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t look like one.” Yahiko paused for a moment, tilting his head to look her up and down. “You’re a bit short.”

Goddess give me strength.

“There isn’t exactly a height requirement for the position.”

“All for the best I suppose, sometimes remarkable leaders come from the most unremarkable places.” Yahiko shrugged, turning his head to stare up at the grey clouds still pounding down rain onto the tin roof above their heads, a small raindrop slipping through the cracks and landing on Kamui’s cheek. “They want me to lead the rebellion of the people against the capital I don’t think I’m a good fit for it though.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not exactly leadership material, I can lead Nagato and Konan maybe, but not an entire team of shinobi against the government. I’m just an orphan from Amegakure, why would they look to me for leadership?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Kamui replied, looking up at the insecurity in the taller mans eyes. “Leaders can come from anywhere, from the sand, from the rain, from the fire.” She placed a hand on her chest, Yahiko watching her carefully, “from the concubines of Tea,” her hand slowly outstretching to rest her fingertips on top of Yahiko’s heart, “to the orphans of Amegakure. It does not matter where you have come from, just that you have the vision to lead all the other concubines and orphans to somewhere new, somewhere better.”

Yahiko visibly swallowed, opening his mouth to say something before closing it once more, his eyes transfixed by Kamui’s slowly retreating hand.

“If I do make it, if we take our just revenge on the leader and get installed into power, it would be an honour to sit on the table of leaders with you and the others Kamui.”

“I will not acknowledge anybody else but you Yahiko, you have my word.”

Here’s something Kamui learnt a long time ago: alliances, real trustworthy ones that will benefit both countries, are not made by smartly dressed diplomats in marble halls shouting over each other to get the best bargain like sellers in the market, they are made by the powerful and the ambitious in places those diplomats would never set foot. Such as, on a makeshift tin balcony hiding out in the depths of the empty wilderness, with the Rain continuing to pour down without any sign of it stopping.

Kamui grinned, holding out her hand, the tips of her fingers stained with the red dye that signified her status as royal, her wrist enclosed in gold and diamonds. Yahiko stared at the offered hand for a second, considering his options before raising his head to look her in the eye. Taking his hand out of his pocket, he shook the offered hand.

…

“The stretch of diplomats and proposals has slowed tremendously over these past few days.” Kamui commented, shuffling through the scrolls of appeals in front of her, “it almost seems that they have given up.”

“I wouldn’t be so hopeful that they have that much common sense.” Obito commented from where he sat cross-legged on the other side of the low table between them.

“How is the announcement with Rain coming along?” She hummed, lifting her eyes from the papers and accepting the scroll Obito offered her.

“As you requested, a statement of neutrality for both parties until one is attacked, Rain has offered to offer us and equipment we need if you change Tea’s policy of not having shinobi.”

“If Tea gained a shinobi force than most nations will take it as a signal to attack with their own, if I wanted a shinobi system installed here, it would not be now. It is bad luck to have shinobi during a Shinobi War.

“They say that the war is coming to a close, that the tides have settled in Fire’s favour and there will be peace once more.” Her husband spoke up, his scarred face, absent of its mask, turned towards the orange and red of the setting sun beyond the glass window and mountains around them.

“Is there peace, or just slight intervals between wars? It has not even been a handful of generation since the last Shinobi War ended.” Kamui replied, lifting the tea cup to her lips and taking a slow sip. The precious rubies laced withing the strands of her pitch black hair caught the sun as she bowed her hear, casting glimmers of red and orange across the room.

“Peace will come, we will make sure of it.”

“And then you’ll kill me? The last obstacle to your perfect world?”

“It’s nothing personal.” He waved off, avoiding her eyes by analysing the tapestry behind her. “You have given up hope in Zetsu’s and my plan, but I know all the parts to it, so I still believe that it will work.”

“I believe in the Goddesses plan, I just do not believe it will take the amount of genocide you and Zetsu are planning.”

“Your faith in a figure that has no care for you will be your downfall.”

“And your pride will be yours.” She muttered, placing down her cup with a soft sigh. “But we are going around in circles, you say that you have a plan? Well, go on then, enlighten me to the next step of it.”

Finally, Obito looked at her, his single red eye meeting her dark ones. He sat up straighter, the dusk outside making his face look far more severe, far more older, the orange surrounding the red and making it brighter.

Kamui suddenly had the daunting feeling that she had made a deal with the devil in return for power.

However, Obito is not the devil, and Kamui is not a weary and desperate traveller. She is an Empress, she is a ruler, she has power, and for now Obito and Zetsu depend on her to secure their own.

For now.

For now.

“The next step is that we bring Konoha to the ground by releasing the nine-tailed beast onto it.”

She almost spat out her drink.

“You want to what?”

Chapter Text

Kamui did not trust Zetsu.

The single statement is so simple and yet so complicated at the same time.

Staring at the black and white creature that sat cross-legged across from her ornate oak kneeling table, Kamui considered her options. Not that there were many. Obito sat between them at the head of the table, looking like some deranged diplomat as he glanced between the two of them. His black and red mask laid discarded on the low table, black hair tousled from the number of times he had run his hand through it while he explained the plan and both Zetsu and Kamui listened.

“It should be stated little Empress,” Zetsu began, only the dark side speaking as the white watched silently, “that this action is quite… essential towards the overall plan.”

“The slaughter of millions?” Kamui asked dryly, a single eyebrow upturned.

“If you wish to see it that way.”

“I don’t fear you, Zetsu.” Kamui hissed through gritted teeth, her fists clenched under the cover of the table.

“But you do fear Mother.” The creature replied, his grin wide and unnatural as he leaned closer to her face, if he could breathe, she was certain she would’ve felt it on her face, but the creature did not and therefore the air between them was still and dense with tension. “Oh, she is the one you fear most. Fear her judgement. Fear her disapproval. She is your goddess little human, she is the blood and air that runs through your veins, wherever you go, whatever you do, she shall see. She shall know.”

“The Goddess has nothing to do with this plan.”

“Then say her name little Empress.” Zetsu’s grin only widened further, sharp teeth glinting like daggers in the artificial light of the lit lanterns hanging above them. “If you do not fear her then say her name.”

Kamui knows the Goddesses name, she knows it like she knows her own face, knows it like the deep shade of red she curls into at night, knows it like the taste of crystal saltwater tears in her mouth, red smearing across her cheek.

Then say it.

She knows the name, she has seen it carved into stone, graffitied onto ruins of an abandoned temple. She has seen it manually ripped out of the pages of history, she has seen the papers with it inscribed on burn.

Then say it.

Zetsu is still, unmoving, and practically dead in every sense of the word if he did not continue to speak and move. The two sides function as one entity, both staring into Kamui’s soul and even if they do not speak, she can still hear their voice in her head.

Kaguya.

It’s on the tip of her tongue, right there, all Kamui has to do is open her mouth and say it.

Kaguya.

“Don’t say that.” Her Okaa-san hisses, clutching the moon rabbit pendant close to her heart. “Do not ever say that name Kamui, only misfortune follows those that dare to say that name.”

She chokes, the word burning its way back down her throat and resting heavy in her stomach as her eyes fell to the floor.

She can’t do it, and Zetsu knows it.

“Innocent people will die.” She said instead, turning to Obito with pleading eyes. “This kitsune will not separate shinobi from civilians, the bad from the good, it will destroy without remorse, without hesitation. I understand that Konoha is not a fully good place, but that does not mean that we have the authority to let innocent people die.”

“Sometimes lives have to be sacrificed.” Obito stated avoiding her eyes and glaring at the teacup in front of him. “Zetsu has said I can control it, with my kekkai genkai, so the destruction will be kept to a minimum- “

“No.” If Kamui any lesser than she would say she was begging as she reached out to place a pleading hand on Obito’s shoulder. “If you can free it, if we must free this creature to free the goddess, and you can control it, then you can send it away, you can make it docile. Obito, I understand your hate, but you are letting it cloud your decisions- “

“Konoha deserves to burn to the ground for what it did, they deserve to suffer for their sins.” Obito interrupted, shaking his shoulder out of her grip and glaring at the ground. “If anything, they deserve worse.”

“Are you even listening to yourself?” Kamui asked, her voice slowly gaining volume as she looked around the room in hopeless exasperation. “You are putting the judgement of the few onto the many!”

“I am doing what is right!” Obito snapped back, his own voice raising in volume, his singular red eye spinning in power as he turned to glare at her.

“For whom?” She asked desperately, gesturing her arms around the room. “For you?”

“For Rin!” He exclaimed, slamming his fist on the table so hard that his teacup trembled violently. Splashes of hot tea splashing onto Kamui’s fingers as she drew closer to him. “I am doing this for Rin! Not that you would understand since you have never experienced any drop of love.”

“How dare you.” She hissed, standing upright as he did, Zetsu glancing between them with some kind of manic glee. At nineteen, Obito is much taller than her, the top of her head barely meeting his shoulders and she rose her chin to glare up at him. “I am your Empress!

“And I am your husband!” He stated with a growl, towering over her as he squared his shoulders. “So, if that is the order of things, then what I say is final- “

Slap!

Kamui’s hand burned, already turning a faint shade of red with the force she had hit him with, Obito’s head on the other hand had barely moved and though he seemed unphased by the force from her hand his red eye faded back to a deep black, clouded with shock and confusion.

“You will never speak to me like you own me Obito, I grew tired of men doing that long ago.” She stated, shaking her hand out as it began to burn in pain. “And if you will not listen to me as your ruler then you may deign it necessary to listen to me as your wife instead. Ask yourself one question Obito, you claim you do this for Rin. Yet can you honestly say that she would’ve wanted this?”

The silence was deafening and Kamui’s hand burned.

“It appears this discussion has run its course.” She muttered, glancing between the stone still Obito and the manic Zetsu, still watching them both with some twisted form of glee. “I will retire now. Good day to you both.”

If she were any less of a person, people would say Kamui had fled from the room, throwing open the doors and not even acknowledging the guards as she passed. However, she was the Empress, so they merely commented on the hurry she was in when she left.

…

Kamui retires to her chambers, curls up amongst red satin sheets and considers her extremely limited options. All of them are bleak, most of them are futile, and no matter how hard the gears in her head spin she could not foresee anything positive coming from this.

Slowly she pulls the pins and jewels from her hair, she wipes the intricate makeup from her face, the red lotus on her brow disappearing, and her black hair hanging lose on her shoulders. Kamui’s hair was long, the colour of ink as she tucked it behind her ears to remove her earrings. Her hair fell down to her midback, the reason for her more elaborate updos. Long hair was preferred in concubines, in the court and amongst the nobility. Long hair showed power, showed luxury, the people working in the fields cut their hair short so it wouldn’t get in the way. Here, in this lifestyle, there was no work, and it was one more way the upper class separated themselves from the lower.

Shrugging off the many layers of her kimono, Kamui sat cross legged in front of the mirror, bowing to the statue of the goddess beside it. Looking in the mirror, the layers that protected her as a goddess gone, all the red and the gold and the luxuries placed beside her, Kamui could admit she still very much looked like the farm girl she was born as. She could’ve had servants undress her, bathe her in the finest oils, and compliment her every pore, but Kamui preferred to be alone. Her luxuries were her armour, and the fewer people that say her without them was the better.

A sharp knock on the door startled her away from her thoughts, picking up her dark red gown, Kamui quickly threw it over her chemise.

Opening the door, her expression quickly turned sour after making eye contact with Obito. Standing at the door as if he were about to knock once more.

“I came to get the herbs.” He mumbled in replacement of a greeting, looking at his feet like a child that had been caught stealing sweet treats from the counter.

“I should let you suffer for the shame you caused me.” Kamui stated coldly, squaring her shoulders and glaring through the gap in the door. “But it is below an Empress to hold such grudges, so I will not.”  She threw the prepared bag of herbs at his chest, watching him catch it with ease. “Good night.”

She went to shut the door, only to come into contact with Obito’s outstretched foot. Kamui took a brief moment to glare at the offending appendage, before schooling her face back to open disdain and reopening the door.

“What do you want?”

“I want to talk.”

“Well, that’s surprising, seeing as a week ago you were ignoring my existence, and a month ago you tried to kill me.”

“Kamui-”

“I have said my judgement on the matter, and you have said yours, no more discussion needs to be had.” She cut him off, waving her hand dismissively and going to shut the door once more. “Now, as I have said numerous times, good night Obito.”

“I wanted to talk about Rin.”

The rushed confession made Kamui pause from she was hallway done with closing the door in his face, her hand tightened around the wood for a brief second before she slowly fully opened the door.

“Come in.” She said coldly, standing aside and carefully watching his every move as he stepped into the room, discarding his shoes and glancing around the place.

“For the two years we have known each other, I just realised I have never seen your room.” He commented lightly, long pale fingers brushing against the elaborately carved vanity. The oak depicted a delicate seen of a stray woman playing the lyre below a cherry blossom tree, unaware of the attention she was slowly drawing from above.

“I am private for a reason.” She muttered, folding her arms and feeling exposed in just a silk robe and a nightgown while Obito was still fully dressed in his black kimono.

“Something to hide?” He asked, his red eye looking over the numerous books on history, politics, and toxicology lining her shelves.

“Doesn’t everyone?”

Kamui sat in the middle of her bed, the red of her robe blending in with the crumpled red sheets around her. Watching her lord-husband carefully as he wandered around the room, examining several worn trinkets decorating her shelves. A chipped hairpin, the torn pages of a budgeting report, a weathered porcelain figure of a rabbit. He came to a stop at the desk beside her bed, picking up an old, ragged cloth animal, its features worn and teared, the colours dull from frequent use, and the stitches holding it together old and fraying.

Kamui avoided his eyes as he turned to look at her, the cloth toy still in his hand.

“What animal is this even meant to be?”

“It’s a bear.” Kamui muttered, snatching it out of his hand when he offered it to her, delicately placing the old toy so it rested against her headboard. “You said that you came here to talk about Rin. So, talk. There’s no need to invade my privacy while doing it.”

“Rin…” He trailed off for a moment, lost in thought, standing away from her bed with his hands folded into the sleeves of his kimono. “Rin was everything I wanted to be and more. She was beautiful, kind, understanding, and loving to everyone and everything she came across. We were in the same class at school, I wasn’t really the smartest, and she was the only one that didn’t pick on me, didn’t bully me because of my grades or my character. So, I…”

He left the sentence hanging in the air, seeming to choke on his own words as his chin tilted to the floor, his black hair falling into his face to cover his only remaining eye.

“You loved her.” She finished for him, folding her hands in her lap and listening intently.

“And yet she could never love me.” He continued still staring at the floor. “She loved someone else, but above all she loved Konoha. It was her home, she helped at the hospital, she wanted to be a medic, make the world a peaceful place so everyone could be happy. This is why I’m doing it for her, this is why we must release the kyuubi. Even if she is not there to see it, with the power of the goddess I can bring her back, I can show her the perfect world I have made for us.”

“And in doing so you will unleash destruction on the city that she loved.” She pointed out, tilting her head while his gaze still remained glued to the floor. “Are you doing this for her Obito? Or are you doing it in some misguided and utterly selfish quest that if you succeed and are able to bring her back to a perfect world that means she will finally love you back?”

“If I cannot honour her wish then I will avenge her.” Obito’s voice was trembling at the edges, and despite how he towered over her, Kamui could see how his shoulders were trembling.

“Revenge is for the ignorant and the stupid.” She said softly kneeling up in her bed to place a delicate hand on his shoulder, pushing out her final blow to hopefully knock some sense into him. “Obito, would Rin want this? For Konoha? For you?”

It was a cheap move, using his love for a glorified dead girl against him, but Kamui could not let this plan go ahead, would not allow Obito and Zetsu to reign unrestrained destruction and devastation upon innocent people.

He was silent, but Kamui could feel how the tremors increased under her fingertips increased steadily. Slowly, as if he were a startled animal Kamui raised her hand from his shoulder to his face, slowly feeling the warm splash of saltwater tears against her hand. Long pale fingers stroked against his cheek, feeling the scarred skin underneath them, smoother and deeper than the natural skin that surrounded them.

In a moment of sentimentality, Kamui pulled him closer, and Obito moved under her direction, not putting up any resistance as he fell onto her bed, his head resting against her shoulder. Against her better judgement, she wrapped her arms around him, resting her chin on the top of his head as she hugged him tightly. Providing just a brief moment of comfort in their cold and damning world. Slowly, when Obito made no move to detach himself from her embrace, she began to softly hum a lullaby that waned in and out of her memory, both of them leaving the wet patch of tears that slowly formed on her shoulder unacknowledged.

“No.” Obito finally brokenly whispered into the dark red silk. “Rin wouldn’t want this, no matter what Zetsu says.”

She tightened her embrace for a moment, chin resting on the soft strands of his black hair as she stared into the distance.

“No, I don’t think so either.” She agreed, letting him go without a fuss as he moved out of her grip.

Obito hid his face from view quickly wiping his face before Kamui could get a good look at it. Shuffling backwards, she allowed him to properly sit on her bed next to her, tilting her head to stare at the decorated ceiling above her.

“I want Rin back.” Obito muttered, so faintly that Kamui could barely hear him. “I want her to love me like I love her.”

Oh, what a singularly human symptom, the deep craving to love and be loved in return.

Kamui could understand it.

While she was repulsed by the idea of sexual intimacy, she could appreciate the intimacy that came with simply being loved. Being held, listened to and cared for.

She picked up the old bear from the headboard, brushing her hands against the now rough cloth, running her fingers over its torn ears. The last remaining thing from her home, the only physical evidence of what had happened there was real, her last lifeline to a past she could only vaguely remember.

“Okaa-san gave me this bear.” She started slowly, Obito turning his head to look at her, his eye still glassy from the tears. “She said that she filled every fibre of it with her love, so wherever I went if the bear was there too, so would her love.” Obito watched her as she hesitated, glancing at him to the old cloth rag. “I believe that Rin did love you, just not in the way you wished. Love can come in different forms, romantic sexual, platonic, familial. She did love you, just not in the way you loved her.”

Kamui put the bear back onto the side table, her back falling into the silk sheets of the bed with a sigh, turning her head she came face to face with Obito, their noses nearly touching due to the close proximity.

“Maybe I can’t bring Rin back, but we can make this world better.” He stated, his eye never moving away from hers as he rolled to his side, tucking his left arm underneath his head for support.

“Maybe not by killing the majority of an urban population?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at him as he glanced away guiltily.

“Yeah.” He admitted, looking back at her. “On very deep hindsight, triggered by a very quick slap to the face, perhaps not the greatest plan.”

“You don’t say.” Kamui huffed, rolling her dark eyes at him.

“I don’t think Zetsu’s going to be pleased with the change in plans.”

“Nope.”

“Do you care?”

“Not even a little.” Kamui grinned, Obito lowly chuckling at the glee on her face. “Finally get over your hate for me?”

“Meh, occasionally you make several valid points. Be a shame to waste them.”

“Occasionally?”

“Very occasionally.”

Kamui reached out and pushed his shoulder, a look of utter offense painted across her face though a small smile broke through as Obito’s laughter filled the room. It was wrong. Fully against all her sensible decisions to allow this, to allow Obito to laugh and joke with her after he had tried to kill her. However, no matter how she wanted to ignore it, some part of her enjoyed the comradery, the ease of talking to him. Humans craved to be loved, and despite some of her preferences, Kamui supposed she was no different.

“You’re alright Kamui.” He stated, turning to her with a smile. “When you’re not trying to end my life and manipulate everyone around you.”

“You’re alright Obito.” She echoed, trying desperately to push down the laughter rising in her throat. “When you’re not trying to usurp my throne or kill me.”

“Can I have the full remedy now?”

“Absolutely not.” She cheered, Obito sighing dramatically with defeat.

“Well, I guess there’s only one thing for it.” He sat up, ruffling his hair out of his eyes as he looked down at her. “Hello Kamui, my name is Obito, would you like to be my friend?”

“We’re already married.” She replied incredulously, staring at his outstretched hand in disbelief. “We’ve known each other for two years.”

“And we don’t even know each others last name.” He returned, keeping his hand outstretched. “But since you know about Rin, and I know about your sad little bear- “

“First of all, how dare you- “

“Then I suppose we now have to be friends. If we’re going to make this world a better place, we might as well like each other.”

He had a fair point.

“Buraku.” She said, after some hesitation, glancing to the bear out of the corner of her eye. “The name I was born with was Buraku Kamui, though now everyone calls me Chaba no Kamui. Buraku is a… very low-class name undeserving of the high court, so they named me Chaba no Kamui instead.”

Kamui of the Tea Leaves.

“You really were a farm girl with a name like that, huh?” Obito asked, Kamui shooting him a brief glare before it softened as he waved his outstretched hand. “Well, Buraku Kamui, my name is Uchiha Obito, would you like to be my friend?”

He looks at her like his name should trigger something, and Kamui thinks it should too, but for the life of her she could not think what the name was supposed to mean.

Taking his outstretched hand in her own, Kamui shook it briefly.

“Hello Uchiha Obito.” He smiled at the title, and something similar to relief flashed in his eye. “I am Buraku Kamui,” she had not said her own name for a very long time, and it tasted like relief on her tongue, the name of a farm girl hidden under the layers of luxuries she drowned herself in “of course I will be your friend.”

Chapter Text

Kamui woke to the cold chill of summer slowly fading into autumn and the soft touch of a hand on her shoulder.

Her face is warmer than usual, resting on something that is most certainly not the cool satin of her red sheets. She can feel herself wrapped around something, her traitorous body wrapped around the warmth to hide away from the chill.

They had fallen asleep.

Kamui should know better.

Yet apparently, she had never learned.

This isn’t just a man though, one appointed to you by the king, one that came with only one purpose in mind and did not care how much she did not want it. That is far behind her now, and she treats it as nothing more than a bad dream. Every man that has wronged her is gone, gone from this plane of being, gone from Tea, gone from her presence and gone from her mind. This is not just any man, this is her husband. Obito is… Obito is her friend.

He is not just any man, he is her friend.

Devoted friends in this world were rather hard to come by.

So, Kamui laid her head back on his chest and closed her eyes once more, a deep sigh escaping her as she fully awoke with the rise of the sun.

They had spent the night speaking in hushed tones, ironing out plans and wishes for the future, learning what shaped their decisions and actions.

A knock on the door forces her eyes to open to the room.

“Your Majesty?” A soft voice called into the chambers, followed by the sound of another knock. “Your Majesty, it is time to wake up.”

Kamui went to sit up with a scowl, disliking the way the frigid air around her bit at her skin, already wishing to go back to the warmth and security of the bed. However, before she could move the hand on her shoulder tightened slightly, stopping her in her tracks.

“I’ll get the door.” Obito murmured, Kamui watching through tired eyes as his black mask appeared in his hand with a flick of his wrist, his voice deeper than usual. “I need to speak with Zetsu about our… change in plans anyway.”

“Remind me that we need to discuss Rain today.” She murmured, collapsing back onto the pillow as he got up. “I was meant to do it yesterday, before you completely derailed my to do list for that day.”

“What about Rain?” He asked, straightening his yukata and using his hands to comb his hair away from his eyes.

“How the rebellion is going, the current plans for new structure of power.” She yawned, stretching her fingers out and staring at the ceiling. “Future agreements, the usual politics of stuff.”

“I’ll look into it after meeting with Zetsu.” He nodded, fixing the black mask onto his face. “He will not be pleased.”

“When is he ever?”

“Fair point.”

“Your Majesty?” The light voice called out again. “Are you awake? I can-”

Kamui watched through half open eyes, sleep clinging to her like a desperate child as Obito opened the door before the poor maid could finish her nervous spiel, looking down at her through his mask blankly.

“My Lord?” The poor young girl squeaked out, her skin several shades paler than the porcelain that was fashionable.

Obito only nodded in acknowledgment stepping past the young girl and marching down the hallway without a word.

“Never mind him.” Kamui sighed heavily, resting her back against the headboard and tilting her head at the girl. “He does that.”

“Does the Lord usually spend the night, your highness?” She asked stepping into the room and setting the tray she was holding onto the desk beside Kamui.

“I don’t pay you to collect gossip, my dear.” Kamui tsked, her lips lifting in the corners as the maid managed to pale even further, slowly beginning to resemble a barn owl with how wide her eyes were. “But never mind that, what is on the agenda for today?”

…

It does not take long for Zetsu himself to come looking for her.

He emerges from the shadow of the willow tree in the palace gardens, Kamui not even glancing up from her book as he stalked closer to her.

“Zetsu.” She stated in lieu of a real greeting, calmly turning a page in her book. “You seem to be in an awfully dreadful mood for such a fine day.”

“And you are the cause of it.”

A smile tugged on the edges of Kamui’s lips, snapping shut her book and finally raising her head to look at him.

By the Goddess, he is furious.

He tries to contain it, to keep the neutrality he is known for, but she could practically taste the fire flooding through his body, making his limbs and fingers twitch, shoulders tense with the energy it provided.

Anger is like fire, red and scorching, and Kamui has a love for all things that are red.

“You’ve corrupted him.” Zetsu hissed, and the way the creature speaks is not at all human, an ever present remind her that is not mortal like her. He does not even have to say what he is referring too, they both know. “You’ve made him weak.”

“I saved him.” Kamui hissed back, and though it is beneath her she allows the fire of her fury to light her eyes and contort her features.

“You’ve damned him.”

“The only person here that is damned kurokuro is you.” Kamui breathed in deeply, allowing her lips to untwist from where they were set in a scowl. “Though I suppose it no longer matters. Our question is simple, and so should be the answer- would it work?”

“Yes.” Zetsu grumbled, the plant leaves attached to him twisting around his torso of their own accord, his yellow eyes glowing in the shade they provided. “It will work.”

She shouldn’t believe him.

She really shouldn’t.

However, Kamui is desperate and desperation breeds naivety and while Kamui is Empress, she is also human and not immune to human flaws.

So, she believes him.

She believes that it won’t go wrong.

She is Empress, she is now much more than a stupid farm girl from Southern Tea, what could possibly go wrong in a way that she could not fix?

(It is only later, when it is all said and done, that Kamui realises that she had never stopped being a stupid farm girl from Southern Tea.)

…

With the changing of the leaves, comes the change of many other things.

One day, there is a war, it rages outside of her gates like a dragon seeking vengeance for a crime the people below have forgotten. There is blood and there is casualties, and Tea stands separated from it all, their gates to the outside world firmly shut.

The next, there is silence, only a lone messenger from Sand appears at her door. He is still brushing off the mud, sand and stone from his armour, and Kamui is certain some of those stains are blood. However, Sand is their precious sibling, another stronghold of the Old Ways, so she meets the messenger at the gateway as requested.

“Greetings from the Lord Rasa himself Empress Kamui,” the messenger bowed briefly, staying firmly on his side of the boarder. “I’ve been tasked to deliver this message with haste.”

Her entourage stood several paces behind her, the border guard still stationed at the gate watching the shinobi carefully, their hands tight around their spears. Obito hovered a step behind her, watching the other shinobi with a burning red eye through his mask.

Kamui let her hand slip through the bars of the gate, plucking the scroll out of the messengers outstretched hand.

“Communication from Sand is always welcome, I must invite dear Lord Rasa for a gala once this mess is over.” She hummed unravelling the scroll and skimming over the words. Passing it to Obito, Kamui turned to the boarder guards with a smile. “Open the gates.”

“Ma’am?”

“The gates of Tea would remain closed until the war is over.” Kamui’s grin widened meeting the eyes of the messenger on the other side. “If there is no more war as you say, then is there any more need to keep these gates closed?”

“No Empress Kamui.”

Kamui’s grin widened as she watched the guards scramble to unlock the gate, pulling the barred metal doors to the side, murmuring quickly amongst each other.

For Kamui, for her people, the ending of the Third Great Shinobi War passes quietly.

…

It’s late.

It must’ve been hours since the sun had set, and yet Kamui remained in her office, glancing through pages upon pages of confidential documents. A low thud outside the office door made her look up, but when no one announced their presence, she continued reading the papers. There were two guards outside, if anything were an emergency then they would alert her properly.

Taxes, land disputes, Kamui rifled through the papers, trying to find what she was looking for, trade agreements, personal finances-

The faint feeling of a sharp metal point held against her neck made her pause.

Slowly placing the papers down, she glanced up, catching a flash of red hair as the figure slipped out of her sight.

“Hello.” She called out to the seemingly empty room. “May I ask what you’ve done to my guards?”

“A mild poison.” A sweet, young male appeared in front of her, dressed in a brown cloak and with features like the doll of a nobles young child. “Don’t worry, they’ll wake up soon. I just wanted to talk privately.”

He had hair like red fire and—

Wait.

Kamui knew that face.

“The councilman is dead. What poison did you use? Come now, it’s very obvious this whole thing was staged.”

“You were there.” She realised. “You were there the day Councilman Banri was poisoned.”

“That I was, the concubine turned Empress, you’re an inspiration to many.” He grinned, teeth sharp like a venomous sand snake. “Shame they don’t know exactly the way you got there isn’t it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Kamui hissed.

“Oh, but you do.” His grin widened further, and his doll like features were unsuited for the poisonous malice within him. “However, that’s of extraordinarily little trouble to either of us now. My name is Sasori.”

“Well, Sasori, you come into my kingdom and incapacitate my guards, for what? What do you want?”

“I want to join your shinobi force.”

“I don’t have a shinobi force.”

“Oh, but you will. You have to.” He leaned closer to her, arms resting on the desk between them as Kamui remained sat, staring up at him and hiding her fear with the force of which she was biting her tongue. “You don’t really have a choice anymore. I’m a puppet master, as well as a master of poisons. I’ve recently found myself… dissuaded with Sand and its people. I heard Tea might need a shinobi force, I came to offer my services directly, since we have met before.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to give me a place in Tea, and protection if Sand tries to drag me back.”

Ah.

A missing nin.

Kamui had heard of them, but the discreet revelation that the red-haired man was one was surprising none the less. Kamui expected nothing less. The only shinobi willing to move form one village to the other are the ones that had been abandoned, or had abandoned themselves, the first one.

Kamui didn’t mind.

She knew what it was like to desperately want, and deserve, more than life and fate had given you.

“Why should I give you anything?” Kamui asked, narrowing her eyes as she looked at him. “You demand a presence in my sanctuary and yet you have nothing of actual merit to offer me puppet master.”

“Here’s where your wrong,” she gritted her teeth at the show of disrespect. “I have a lot to offer you, I’m a fair man Empress Kamui, in return for you protecting my life then I will protect yours.”

“Is that all?”

“Is your life not everything?”

“This country is everything, little puppet master.” Kamui stressed, glancing from his eyes to the poison dagger in his hand. “You were born in the sand, and you were made in it. Sand is not something one can easily shake off.”

“I was born and made from poison, Red Lotus of Tea.” Sasori grinned, and it was as sharp and lethal as the dagger in his hand. “Poison can be from anywhere, from the desert flowers to the leaves you yourself accumulate on you land. Arguably, Tea is more poisonous than Sand.”

“I suppose that is true.” She hummed, tilting her head as his stance slowly collapsed. “Red Lotus?”

“That is what the Bingo Book has named you, you’ve got a few people convinced you’re actually a kunoichi, as well as quite a hefty sum on your head.”

“Strange,” a low hum left Kamui’s red lips. “I’ve had no one attempt to claim the sum.”

“Oh, they have. It’s just that your husband seems to be a bit of a pest to get through. Is it true his kekkai genkai allows him to appear out of thin air?”

“I don’t know.” Obito’s cold voice filled the room, twisting into reality with a sword pressed against Sasori’s throat. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“Well, isn’t that fascinating…” Sasori grinned, not at all phased by the katana pressed against his throat. “You’d make a wonderful addition to my fleet.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t turn my husband into a puppet Sasori.” Kamui said, calmly turning back to her papers.

“Oh, but he would be wonderful as one. Far more useful than he is now.”

“Maybe to you, but not to me.” Kamui frowned slightly, lifting her head and meeting Obito’s questioning eyes. “Not to Tea. Darling, let him go.”

There was a moment of hesitation, Obito’s red eye glaring coldly at Sasori before he slowly lifted the katana from his neck, placing it back in the holder on his back. Sasori only grinned maliciously in thanks, his eyes flickering between the two of them as if the answers to all his questions would just spring forward if he looked deep enough.

 “Allow me to consider your offer,” Kamui started, breaking the tense silence. “You’re welcome to wander around the palace while you wait, I’ll alert the maids to escort you to a temporary room.”

“Of course, Empress, I’ll look forward to seeing what kind of art we can make together.”

“Morbid, but no matter.” Powerful men were always so strange. “I’ll call upon you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting Empress.”

Sasori disappeared from the room with a soft breeze of sand and the scent of fresh wood. Obito’s head turned, watching the door for a moment before pulling the black mask from his face, placing it on the desk and occupying the chair across her desk. One of his legs was stretched out the other leg bent with his foot flat on the chair.

“Are you truly considering this?” He asked, leaning back and watching her.

“Do you think it is such a terrible plan?”

“No.” He scoffed briefly, tilting his head to the side before continuing. “In fact, I think it’s one of the best you’ve had for a while.”

“You’re biased.” She reminded him.

“I’m realistic.” He countered.

“It’ll just be a high-class task force, they all likely wont even be from Tea.”

“Isn’t that how all the Great Shinobi Nations started? One elite task force to identify and train the chakra sensitive residents of the area? To recognise them. To train them. Make the next generation stronger and more loyal?”

“You paid that much attention in history?”

“No.” He paused for a moment. “Just got clan history told to me enough times I guess.”

A clan.

Obito was from a shinobi clan.

Kamui continued to organise her papers, pretending that she hadn’t noticed the slip of the tongue. Clan’s were interesting, complex, inherently controversial.

She’d put that tidbit of information to the side for now, there were more things to focus on.

But she would not forget.

“Such a task force needs a name.” Obito continued, leaning back in his chair as Kamui continued to shuffle through the papers before her. “Names have power after all, something to bind them together, your little group of unwanted lost things.”

“I suppose you would count as a part of it, little lost thing.” Kamui stated, a smile tugging on the edge of her lips even though exhaustion weighed on her shoulders. “You are right though, a name gives the people something to cling to, something to aspire for.”

“An elite task force that will survive for generations.” Obito nodded, resting his arms on his thighs and leaning forward. “Konoha has the ANBU, Kiri has the Seven Swordsman, Uzushio had the Seal Mistresses and Suna has Fan Wielders, what will you have Kamui?”

Kamui looked out of her window, watching the sun slowly peek above the mountains that surrounded Tea, casting shades of orange and red amongst the still blackened sky. They had worked through the night, and the papers in front f her were still a mess, list of influential shinobi, rich merchants, and high-ranking officials of Tea, all who must be appeased if this ludicrous plan were to go ahead. The urge to slam her head against the table until her skull cracked was strong, but Kamui bit her tongue to resist the urge glaring at the offending image of the dawn as she considered.

They were right, and Kamui knew it, if she continued acting the way that she was Tea would need a lot more than just a handful of imperial guards and border patrol to remain standing, to puh back against the power of the Great Shinobi Villages. Tea may be rich, and it may be respected but it was not powerful, it would not be able to fight back if one of the Shinobi Villages decided to take over. If they created an army, it would create another access to wealth, a way to edge into the competition on the international stage. Tea needed a shinobi force, and the reality of such a thing was becoming more damning by the hour.

Her eyes remained stuck on the rising sun as a new day began in Tea, already seeing movements of the border guard switching over to the morning squad, the bone-weary guards trudging across the courtyard and back to their bunks.

The sky above them all was painted with streaks of red, spilt blood of the past still lingering in the new day.

Kamui liked the colour red.

“I think I’ll name them The Akatsuki.”

Chapter Text

“The Akatsuki?” Sasori asked, raising an eyebrow at her from where he slouched on the other side of her desk. “What a stupid name.”

“It is the name we will be using, and it has already been finalised.” Kamui countered, gently placing the ceramic teapot back into the middle of the table. “But firstly, I must congratulate you Yahiko on your new position.”

The ginger haired male looked down at his feet from where he sat next to Sasori, smiling sheepishly at her praise.

“I wouldn’t have done it without your help.” He admitted, raising his head, eyes glistening with pride. “So many lives have been sacrificed, but now maybe even Rain will be able to see the light of a bright future.”

“Good luck.” Sasori snorted. “The Great Shinobi Nations have our world in a monopoly, even if Tea or Rain is powerful, we are nothing compared to them. They have the jinchuriku, do you really think we can stand against a tailed beast?”

“Don’t be so negative.” She tutted softly, lacing her finger together in front of her and rest her chin on the bridge her hands had made. “Why do you think we are here? The Great Nations have held power for far too long, and what do they do with their resources? Do they help us? No, they spend their money, their ability, their precious resources fighting amongst themselves like children.”

“So, you wish to have tyranny?”

“I wish for equality. I wish for a world where these apparent Great Nations do not send their children, or any man or woman, to die fighting for a country that has no care for them.”

“Rain is already moving up the graduating academy age from twelve to sixteen.” Yahiko nodded, leaning back in his chair and gazing off into the distance thoughtfully. “It made a lot of people unhappy, but mothers held their children that night and thanked us for not sending them to die. Our popularity with civilians has never been higher.”

“Who cares what a civilian think? What do they know what its like to kill?”

“By the will of the goddess, they know nothing of it Sasori.” Kamui sighed, rising in her chair and gliding across the room, her hand brushing against the back of the puppet masters chair as she stopped behind him, bending to whisper in his ear. “Do you think you are better? Because you have killed? Because you have tortured? Do you think you are better because you can walk on water? Conjure fire or earth just with a flick of your hands?”

“I do.” Sasori stated, staring ahead while Kamui hummed lowly, the sound vibrating along the shell of his ear.

“Does the memory of the people you have killed still haunt you at night?” She whispered against his ear, Yahiko closing his eyes and steadying his breath from where he sat next to them. “Do the screams of the people you have tortured still echo in the wind howling against your door? Do you still see the moment life bled out of a child’s eyes, and the only reason you killed them was because their headband was different from yours?” She leaned back, keeping her voice low and dangerous as her hand wrapped around the back of his chair. “Tell me, Sasori of the Sand, do you look down on civilians because you are better, or is it from the insecurity of realising the life you have chosen is so much worse than theirs?”

Sasori opened his mouth to speak, but no words escaped his lips before Kamui harshly tugged her hand back, sending his chair toppling to the floor, the shinobi only regaining his footing just in time before he was sent toppling to the floor as well.

“I am a civilian Sasori, my limited chakra capabilities means you are blind to any intentions you’d be able to sense if my chakra capacities were larger.” She smiled softly, patting Yahiko’s shoulder as she passed him. “I am also your Empress for as long as you reside in Tea, have some respect.”

“I hope we’re all playing nice with each other.” Obito spoke up, Sasori wordlessly picking his chair off of the floor with a slight scowl. Her husband sat in the chair next to Yahiko, the mask removed to sit on the top of his head.

“As always.” Kamui hummed, sitting back down and taking a sip of her tea. “You’re late.”

“We had a delivery. Where are we at currently?”

“If we wish for our plan to succeed, we need to actually get inside the Great Nations, and none of us can do that without raising suspicion.” Yahiko stated, leaning forward his chair, his eyes dark and serious. “We’re too high profile, as well as our countries being too turbulent that sending someone else would also raise suspicion.”

“We don’t need to bring all the nations down, just Sand and Fire would do it.” Sasori pointed out, crossing his arms. “There so interconnected with everywhere else. If we damage them the ripples will be felt by everyone even us. We’d be shooting ourselves in the foot.”

“Not necessarily.” She said, a single finger dancing along the rim of her teacup. “Tea’s isolationism and Rain’s civil war have practically severed our reliance on outside sources. The turbulence in Fire and Sand would not be beneficial for us, but it would not harm us either. Yahiko, could Rain stand?”

“Rain will stand through the worst of storms Empress.” He nodded gravely. “We will not, and have never needed, Fire or Sand to continue doing so.”

“Excellent. Sasori, could you get into Sand undetected?”

“As long as I was in and out then yes, it would be possible. My puppets provide me all the cover I need.”

“Do you know the current container for the one tailed?”

“An old priest named Bunpuku I believe, follower of the Mists of Sand.”

Kamui’s nose wrinkled in distaste, she did not like the idea of killing a holy man. Looking down at her tea, her fingers wrapped tightly around the cup as she swallowed dryly.

What has to be done, has to be done.

Goddess, this is for your will, forgive me.

“Your first mission as a shinobi of Tea will be an assassination.” Reaching into the drawer of her desk, Sasori caught the scroll she throw at him easily. “I want you to kill him and damage the seal you’ll find on him, make sure nobody can get to his corpse. In and out.”

“Sand and Fire need to fall at the same time for this to work.” Yahiko said. “We can’t do anything to Sand until we know we have access to Fire, and Konoha’s defensive are much harder to get in to, let alone trying to get out of them undetected.”

“Which also happens to be the reason I was late.” Obito grinned, practically buzzing in excitement as he dropped a scroll onto Kamui’s desk, the Empress watching it unravel before her. “We don’t even have to break in to Konoha, we’ve been invited.”

Her Excellency, Empress Kamui no Chaba of Tea and Whirlpool

and

His Royal Highness, The First Lord Tobi no Chaba of Tea and Whirlpool

You have been formally invited to the celebration of the crowning of Fire’s Yondaime Hokage, Namikaze Minato, for drinks, parades, celebrations and games in honour of the new Hokage.

May we make relations there that will be honoured by us and our successors.

How cute.

They have no clue what we’re trying to do.

“I’m sorry, but I’m still confused on what exactly we’re doing?” Sasori spoke up, looking up from his mission scroll and glancing between the three of them, his doll-like feature pinched in confusion.

“We’re going to release the jinchuriku, my darling Sasori,” Kamui grinned teasingly, her fingers running along the invitation. “Keep up.”

…

Fire is rich with life, from the birds to the flowers.

Kamui fixed the sheer red shawl over her hair, shielding her eyes and head from the midday sun, even as the nights drew ever closer and the bite of autumn remained in the air, Fire seemed to be always in a constant state of heat. Sitting back in her carriage, Kamui flicked open her fan, charcoal painted eyes moving over to Obito. The entourage of Tea moved as one, three guards on each side of the royal carriage and the handmaidens and scholars travelling in another carriage behind them. Some where there out of duty, some had begged to come to see their families in Fire, Kamui had granted their wishes with a soft smile.

“Fire is as beautiful as they say.” She commented as their entourage passed a slow-moving winding lake, the water cutting through the grass plains like a snake. “Though it does not hold a candle to Tea.”

“We’re close to Konohagakure now.” Her husband nodded, his mask slid across his face and the hood of his black kimono drawn up to conceal the rest of him. “The land is richer, as well as the people.”

“You are scared to return?”

“I have no love for a place only haunted by ghosts.”

“You’ve been quite dramatic since our trip began.” They had left Tea two days ago, and Obito had been sullen since the moment they had set off. “Perhaps get it out of your system now, don’t bring down the revelries of our host.”

“I have no love for Namikaze Minato either.”

“Well start pretending that you do.” She hissed lowly, casting him a warning look over the top of her fan. “This is politics dear, the majority of us don’t actually like each other, we just put on friendly places, so our people feel calm.”

“Sasori has infiltrated Sand.” Obito replied his mask tilting down as he stared at the floor of the carriage. “He says he is laying low and waiting for our signal, I received the bird from him this morning.”

She nodded in acknowledgment, snapping the fan shut with a flick of her wrist.

“All for the best. Hopefully, our dealings with Zetsu will be over as soon as this is.” Kamui scoffed, her eyes moving to look out of the window. “That plant can have someone else free the rest of them, we’ve done the hard bit.”

“We need him.”

“No Obito, we don’t. It is Zetsu that needs us.”

“You forget where he has gotten us? You would be dead by assassins by now if it weren’t for him.”

“I would be dead by assassins if it wasn’t for you Obito, not Zetsu.”

“Doesn’t it all boil down to the same thing?”

“No Obito, it really doesn’t.”

Her husband was silent, his only visible eye becoming darker, red mixing with black for a brief moment before the darkness returned. The closer they drew to Konoha, the gloomier he seemed to become, silent and sullen to her offerings of small talk or questions.

Kamui sighed heavily, gently fanning herself and staring out of the shade covered window.

It was going to be a long way to Konoha.

…

“Empress Kamui.” Minato greeted as she wandered into his office, shrugging off her outer coat and offering it to her handmaiden. “I hope the journey hear was not too tiring, the journey from Tea to Fire is long.”

“It was quiet.” She smiled, accepting his offered hand to shake as he rose out of his chair. “I have to thank you for the invitation here Yondaime Hokage, it does not seem a moment since you were last in my palaces yourself. Congratulations on your formal promotion.”

“As I must congratulate you, your work on the revitalisation of Uzushio and Tea has led to your praises being sung from Tea to Lightning.”

“Well, since the war is finally over, we hope to open our borders to anyone that wishes to enter.” She stated. “The people displaced by the fall of Uzushio will be welcomed home.”

“I apologise Empress Kamui, but I must ask you to dismiss your entourage.” Minato informed her in a hushed tone. “I will do the same with my ANBU of course, but these discussions should remain private.”

“Of course.” Kamui nodded politely, her handmaiden bowing to them both before exciting the room, the silver haired ANBU with a dog mask that had escorted them there leaving as well. “How is leadership treating you?”

“A lot more paperwork than I imagined but your new offering of trade deals was a light in the darkness. We understood your reservations with the war, and we’re glad to be trading with you once more.”

The conversation faded into the normal trades and politics. Minato didn’t like how quiet Earth and Lightning were being. Kamui was concerned about the recent turmoil in River, both of them didn’t like what seemed to be brewing in Sand. Whispers of a secret village headed by a missing non filling the air.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kamui caught sight of a well-loved picture frame on the Hokage’s desk, her curiosity getting the best of her as she reached for it.

“Who’s this?” She asked him, picking up the old photo with a smile.

 It was a simple picture, likely taken before the war. Minato stood in the middle, crouching down to reach the height of the picture’s other occupants. His smile shone as bright as his hair, beaming with pride and excitement. The other three subjects of the picture had to be no older than twelve, the girl beaming brightly the purple marks on her face stark against her pale skin. The two other subjects looked mildly annoying, glaring at each other out of the corner of their eyes. Her fingers brushed over the young boy with obnoxious orange goggles, her mind working frantically to figure out who he looked like.

“Ah, my old genin team.” Minato smiled, gently taking the picture off of her and placing it back on the desk. His blue eyes shining with melancholy. “I was their jonin commander, a teacher for shinobi that had just graduated. I cared for them all. Was so proud of all of them and what they did.”

“What happened?” She asked, and the possibility of what the answer most likely is chokes her from the inside out, eyes falling back to the picture.

“War happened.”

“I will never understand the need to send children to war.”

“War breeds desperation.”

“And the ending of it breeds regret.” Her closed fan danced between her fingers, Kamui tilting her head as she considered. “Tell me Namikaze, does the memory of how you led them to their deaths still keep you up at night? Did your majestic will of fire save them from the cold hands of death?”

A cheap trick, rubbing salt into open wounds, but to be fair to him the Yondaime did not even flinch, staring back at her.

“You are a pampered concubine from Tea, you spent your own childhood defiled in the arms of your daimyo and his men. You country calls that an honour, here it would be a crime. Tell me Kamui no Chaba, did you kill the man that raped you because you feared that he had finally grown bored of his favourite?”

Well, ouch.

If Kamui was any less, she would’ve permanently disfigured his sunshine features right there and then.

“I’m originally from Eastern Tea, the farmlands and the barrens.” She said, pulling the shawl from her head, and glancing around the room. “The daimyo burned down my home, my people and then took me as a prize. Do not mistake me for a pampered fool Hokage, I may not know the intricacies war but just because I am a civilian does not mean I don’t know loss.”

“I suppose it a fault of shinobi to underestimate civilians.” Minato nodded, sitting down in his chair. “I also suppose this ends this conversation, my sincere apologies Empress, but Konoha still needs to keep running, even if festivities are happening.”

“Of course, Yondaime.” She smiled pleasantly, hearing the shinobi guard open the door behind her, the tense silence from the silver haired guard indicating he had heard their whole conversation.

Damn shinobi.

“Empress, the Lord-Husband Tobi calls for you.” One of her handmaidens called out nervously, hovering around the doorframe and glancing nervously between the two shinobi and Kamui.

Kamui’s eyes did not leave Minato, though he had long since dismissed her in favour for his paperwork. Beneath the long Hokage robes, Kamui could see how tense his shoulders were, how close he was to breaking under her stare.

Nodding to herself, Kamui flicked her wrist, her fan opening as she brought it to her face, her eyes the only thing visible as the turned to leave the room, the silver haired ninja stepping aside though she could feel his own stare from underneath his dog mask.

“One last thing.” She spoke up, slamming her fan on the closing door before the shinobi could fully close it. “What were their names?”

Minato sighed heavily, years beyond his age seeming to weigh on his shoulder as he put down his pen.

“Nohara Rin died protecting Konohagakure from catastrophe, and Uchiha Obito died a hero protecting his teammates.”

“I will pray for them.” She nodded, taking her fan away from the sliding door and following her handmaiden, their guard joining them as soon as they left the floor of the Hokage Tower, beginning to descend the steps to the outside.

She has only taken one step outside before the adrenaline fades and the names finally register with her.

She stumbles on the last step, her red fan falling to the ground as she stares over the streets of Konoha, her eyes wide and terrified.

Uchiha Obito.

Uchiha Obito.

Obito.

Obito.

Obito.

“Empress?” He handmaiden asked, laying a soft hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

It made everything make sense. It made so much sense that Kamui couldn’t believe she had missed it all before. The reason Obito hated Konoha, the reason he put up a façade in Konoha and whenever the delegates came to visit, the reason he refused his real name to be released to the public, the scars on his face.

Uchiha Obito had saved his teammates.

And his teammates had left him to die.

And in return, the other silver haired child in the picture had killed Rin. A beautiful young girl with a bright smile who had been led into war by none other than Namikaze Minato.

“Empress?”

Oh, darling Obito, my darling Obito, what did they do to you?

“I need to speak with my husband.” 

Chapter Text

Obito is not facing her when she enters the room.

This is not surprising.

Instead, he stands tall with his hands folded behind his back, mask firmly placed over his face as he looked out of the window, surveying the streets of Konohagakure below them. The council of Fire had been kind enough to place them within a large luxury apartment in one of the richer parts of the city. The handmaidens and guards also spread around the complex in order not to draw too much attention.

Kamui slowly closes the door behind her, waving off her handmaidens worried whispers as she slipped into the room.

“I had a meeting with the Yondaime today.” She started, brushing her hands against the length of her kimono. “The new agreements seem to be progressing well, even if the tensions from the war are still apparent.”

“I had my own meeting with Zetsu.” Obito said, turning to face her, stepping out of the view of the window and pulling off his masks. “I also removed all the bugs from the room, little spy seals here and there but nothing else could be found. I replaced them with my own privacy seals, we’re free to talk as we wish in here.”

“It’s nice to know our hosts trust us.” Kamui bit out sarcastically, eyeing the corners as if a stray ANBU would suddenly appear in one of them.

“Konoha isn’t the most openly trusting, even if it’s Hokage looks like sunshine.”

“Please, he’s a storm masquerading as the spring sun. I’ve got to give it to him, he’s perfect for public relations, I can see why the gave him the role of Hokage.”

“Likely the exact same reason they gave you the role of Empress, for being far more deadly then you look.”

They were both skirting around the obvious, eyeing each other up and down, daring the other to crack first.

For once, it is Kamui that cracks under the pressure of the silence.

“There’s a photo in Minato’s office-“ She started cutting herself off as Obito sighed heavily, running his scarred hands through his hair as he sat on the edge of the large plush bed, avoiding her eyes and choosing instead to stare dejectedly at the floor.

“I know.” He said and defeat seemed to weigh heavy on his shoulders as he sank in on himself. “I know.”

“Do you not trust me?” She asked stepping forward, her red stained fingers brushing his ink black hair out of his eye. “After everything, you do not trust me enough to tell me what happened?”

“I knew coming back to Konoha would resurface everything.” He admitted, staring at his feet. “I just- I thought I had more time to talk about it all. I trust you Kamui. I trust you more than anyone.”

Kamui slowly lowered herself to the floor, sitting in between Obito’s legs. Slowly, she raised her hands fingertips brushing against his scars. Her red fingertips brushed under his eyes, watching as it blinked open and he stared back at her, silence filling the room.

“What did they do?” She whispered, holding his face in her hands, fingers practically trembling in trepidation. “My darling, what did they do to you?”

Obito tells her a story.

A story of boy that wanted to be strong, a boy that gave up his eye and was found by a man that should’ve been dead. Told her the story of how he watched Rin die.

Kamui holds him throughout it all, fingers running through his dark hair and listening to every word. She rests her cheek on top of his bowed head, closing her eyes and breathing out slowly.

“They will pay for this.” She promised into the thick air around them, Obito wrapping a hand around her waist and pulling her closer. “They will pay for this.”

“We will build a world where nothing of the sort will happen to anyone else.” He stated, pulling away to hold her by her shoulders, his single eye looking deeply into hers. “That is how we will get our revenge, and they can stew in the horrors they have caused.”

Kamui nodded, though her jaw was still clenched from the buried anger. Her eyes still raging with the fire of her anger. Kamui was not perfect, she was protective of her things, and Obito… Obito was hers. Her friend, her advisor, her husband, and the only one that could hurt him was her.

She would play nice, for the sake of politics, for the sake of Tea, for the sake of Obito.

However, the second Minato let his guard down, Kamui would burn his entire precious village to the ground.

…

The Uchiha, the few that Kamui had had the pleasure of meeting, were an… interesting clan to say the least.

After Obito’s story, Kamui had wanted to smash her head against the wall for not linking the name Uchiha back to Konoha properly. In her defence, her history expertise were focused around the history of diplomacy in Tea, not the clan history of Fire.

However, staring at Fugaku Uchiha across of the low table between them, surrounded by the clan heads of Konoha, Kamui was beginning to consider if the years of inbreeding had had a negative effect on the clans ability to use common sense.

Maybe it was just something they were lacking in Konoha.

“You’re son graduated at the age of seven?” She asked, her eyebrow raising higher, voice coloured in disbelief. To her left, Obito nudged her under the table, his face covered by his usual full black mask, his one visible eye staring coldly at the tea in front of him, though he made no move to speak or even move his mask.

“Yes, one of the youngest ever recorded.” Fugaku must’ve misinterpreted her disbelief for amazement as his shoulders raised in pride, happily boasting about his prodigy to the foreign elite.

“Surely they did not have him go to war though?”

“He is a prodigy. He brings pride to the Uchiha name, as well as setting such great standards for the future of our clan.”

Oh Goddess, the issue of sending children to war ran deeper than she thought.

Seven.

Seven.

Feeling eyes on her, Kamui turned her head to meet the bright blue eyes of the Hokage, her eyes flickering to look at the broad man with spiky dark hair next to him. Under the table, Obito nudged her once more, her eyes snapping back to smile pleasantly at the Uchiha patriarch, her fingers dancing on the designs of the tablecloth.

“I will be sure to keep an eye on his progress.” She nodded politely. “By the rate he is going, if it is as you say, I would not be surprised if Minato’s Hokage seat was in danger in the near future.”

“An Uchiha as Hokage.” Something flickered in Fugaku’s eyes. “That would be a sight, excuse me Empress.”

Kamui watched the man rise and venture further down the table, gesturing to one of the guards on his way.

“For supposedly being at peace, this country does love to build tensions within its clans.” Kamui whispered to her husband over the rim of her sake cup. “Outcast some, highlight others, messy business.”

“The Uchiha do not have the best history when it comes to positive relations with the rest of the village.” Obito confirmed lowly, both of them rising to wander around the room. “She’s not here, we’ll try again tomorrow.”

 The large space was full of elders and clan heads, as well as some dignitaries from foreign nations. It wasn’t very often a new leader was placed into power, and with the end of the war, many clans were eager to have positive relations with each other as well as foreign clans. However, not the person Kamui was most interested in seeing. Though, that didn’t mean the room was absent of figures that she would like to speak to.

“A Nara.” She greeted, smiling pleasantly at the man in front of her, the spiky hair and tired gaze unmistakeable.

“Empress.” The Nara clan head bowed slightly.

“Do you two know each other?” Minato asked, glancing between them, Obito stopping at Kamui’s heels.

“The Nara are originally from Tea.” The clan head explained, shoulders stiff in Kamui’s presence. “When Konoha was established, we moved to find a better life for our clansmen.”

“Arguably, you abandoned the country you swore to protect as soon as it became necessary to protect it.” Kamui tilted her head, her grin sharp, eyes mischievous. “But I suppose history is born on differing points of view. As far as I am aware, your clan is still not welcome in our lands.”

“This is true.”

“Then may I be the first to extend to you an invitation back to the motherland.” Her smile sharpened for a second. “Or at very least, the ability to pass through it without the fear of legal reprimand.”

“My grandmother would have been pleased to hear that, she often spoke of her vague memories of the beauty of Tea.”

“It is as they say.” Kamui paused for a moment glancing around the room. “Humanity came from Tea, and we will all one day find ourselves back in the loving arms of it.”

“You need to walk around Konoha, I’m sure even you would not wish to return to the Ancient Lands after seeing what we offer.” Minato stated cheerfully, Obito shifting uncomfortably behind her. “Lord Tobi! I’m glad you could make it. I was worried Lady Kamui was hiding you from us. Shukaku, this is Empress Kamui’s husband and partner in crime, the one with the kekkai genkai I was telling you about.”

Ah, so the clan head’s name was Shukaku, Kamui made a mental note to remember it.

“An interesting ability, which clan did you inherit it from?”

Behind her, Obito stiffened, he and Kamui instantly exchanging a brief glance.

“Meh,” He shrugged slightly, his black silk kimono catching the light as he moved. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Tobi, dear.” Kamui tsked, trying desperately to smother her laughter with a cough. “Let’s not cause a diplomatic incident. Speaking of which, we came over to say our goodbyes and appreciation for inviting us to this event, the parade is tomorrow and we wouldn’t-“

“Minato!”

Kamui was not ashamed to say that she jumped out of her skin at the shout suddenly appearing behind her.

Whirling around, Kamui was suddenly greeted with a face full of red.

The red blur collided with Minato, rambling at a pace so fast that no matter how much Kamui paid attention she could not keep up with what the other woman was saying.

Well, Kamui would never dare to say she was the type of woman to believe in luck, but who was she to deny such a perfect opportunity. She chose to wait patiently, folding her arms demurely into the sleeves of her kimono. The red flowers printed across the edges of the green fabric directly matching the woman’s hair. Behind her, Obito stepped closer, his shoulders stiff and fingers twitching, like a tiger waiting to pounce.

Finally, the woman acknowledged them.

“And who are you, ‘ttebane?”

“Kushina.” Minato stated hurriedly, Kamui raising a perfectly arched eyebrow at the other woman. “This is Empress Kamui, the Empress of Tea and Whirlpool?”

“You must be the Uzumaki I have heard so much about.” Kamui grinned, her smile loosing it’s sharp edge it had gained while speaking to the Nara. “Kushina, was it?”

The Whirlpool Princess frowned at her, slowly analysing her up and down. Kushina was head and shoulders taller than Kamui, dressed in a standard jounin jacket, her fiery red hair loose around her shoulders.

The Uzumaki had once controlled whirlpool, the leadership passing through them matriarchally, if Uzushio had never fell then this woman would’ve been its leader.

But it had fell, and now it was Kamui’s.

Her smile widened slightly, remembering the plans resting on her office desk back into Tea to finally introduce a population back into Whirlpool, after years spent restoring and securing the structures, looking over the scrolls they had found, as well as the removal of several hundred dead bodies.

But Kamui was not going to tell Uzumaki Kushina any of that.

“Yeah,” the other woman confirmed, meeting Kamui’s gaze without fear. “You’re the one that took over Uzushio? You’re kind of short ‘ttebane.”

Kamui’s lip twitched, she wasn’t that short. It was just that shinobi were freakishly tall.

“I wanted to speak to you.” Kamui admitted, noticing how Minato straightened defensively behind Kushina. “Nothing heretical Yondaime, don’t look so stressed. I just wanted to state that if you wished to return to Uzushio, you are welcome anytime. The Uzumaki were the pinnacle clan, vital to Uzushio’s history, it is my intention to open the doors of my empire to any that wish to return.”

“I’m quite happy in Konoha, but thank you ‘ttebane.”

It was a clear dismissal, but Kamui had not gotten this far in life by just taking dismissals as they came.

“Are you certain?” Her voice was soft, lowering so that the only people that could here was their group of five. “It was my understanding that Fire is not the best place for a jinchuriku, in Tea and Whirlpool you would be treated with the respect you deserve for being a vessel of a god.”

One moment, Kamui was looking into Kushina’s conflicted eyes, they next she was faced with a flash of yellow and black. Obito and Minato had both stepped forward, placing themselves between the two of them.

“You were invited here Empress Kamui.” Minato said lowly, some of the shinobi in the room glancing from their group to each other, wondering if they should interfere. “While I respect your religion, I do ask that you not share that information freely.”

“I’m merely making a statement on the facts provided to me.” Kamui said innocently, shrugging her shoulders. “But I am aware when I have crossed the line, my sincere apologies. Come Tobi, I believe it’s time for us to leave.” She took a step away, brushing off some invisible dirt from her kimono. Tilting her head at Kushina and Minato. “You two are cute.”

“W-what?” Minato spluttered, Shukau next to him looking as if he was withholding his laughter while Kushina went as red as her hair.

Obito’s shoulders shook with his own laughter, stepping to catch up with Kamui.

“A word of advice,” he muttered lowly, his mask concealing his expression though his visible eye was bright with humour. “If you don’t want people to know that you’re together, then don’t make it so obvious.”

As he stepped away, Kushina seemed to stumble on her own feet, looking down at the floor frantically to see what had made her stumble. Grasping her elbow, Obito stopped her from falling any further, his eye turned up in a smile as he straightened her up.

“Careful.” He warned, following Kamui out of the room without another word.

“They’re really weird ‘ttebane.” Kushina muttered, still looking at the floor for what had caused her to stumble.

“That’s not even the start of it.” Minato sighed in reply.

…

Once they reached their designated room, bidding goodnight to their entourage, Kamui pulled the emerald hair pin out of her hair with a long sigh, meeting Obito’s eyes in the mirror as he took off his mask.

“Did you do it?”

Pulling off his gloves, Obito waved his bare left hand at her, absent from the seal he had painted onto it that morning.

“A cruel trick, tripping her up like that.” Kamui clicked her tongue, returning to the mirror top wipe the kohl from her eyes. “You’re lucky no one noticed your foot disappear to reappear behind her out of thin air.”

“No one saw me.” He stated. “I’d made sure all the Hyuuga had left.”

“How long will we have to wait?”

“Around two weeks, as long as she doesn’t experience anything to drain all her chakra, but she’s not on the mission rota for another year now. Likely Minato not wanting her to leave without him, which is silly since Kushina can handle herself.”

“Perfect.”

Kamui grinned rising from her seat, walking to the window, her hand brushing against the seal resting there for their privacy watching as it thrummed and glowed in response to her presence.

“We’re lucky the scholars found that scroll about the Uzumaki jinchuriku sealing, without it we’d be killing all the jinchuriku left right and centre.”

“Not luck, my dear, fate.” Kamui’s eyes rested on the bright moon hanging high above them, clear in the cold winters sky above them. “We are meant to be doing this. Will it hurt her?”

“No, as far as I can tell, she’ll live. Maybe slightly weaker and unable to perform as a jounin kunouichi like she once did, but alive all the same.” Obito said, collapsing on the edge of the bed, head turned towards the ceiling.

“Good.” She paused for a second, a smile flickering across her face. “I like her hair.”

“You like anything that’s red.” Obito mumbled, his eyes closed, an arm thrown over his face.

“One of the many reasons I like you, dear.” She said, turning on her heel to grin at an exasperated Obito. “Speaking of red, send a message to Sasori, I believe it’s high time we dealt with our other jinnchurikuu.”

“Can’t I do it tomorrow?”

Kamui huffed, sneakily reaching out to grab the edge of a pillow, eyeing him as he pretended to sleep. Reaching up carefully, Kamui readied the pillow in her hands, throwing it at his resting form with all her might.

“Now, please Obito.”

The words had barely left her mouth before she received a pillow to the face, spluttering as her mouth filled with cotton and feathers. Ripping the pillow away from her face, Kamui opened her mouth to admonish him, only to be met with an empty bed.

Chapter Text

Tugging on Obito’s arm, holding onto him as they moved through the crowds, Kamui grinned as the parade passed them, clapping her hands along with the beat of the drums. Pausing on the edge of the pavement, the watched all the colours go by, dancers twirling with ribbons of silk to the beat that the drummers behind them provided. Around them, the people cheered and threw confetti, biting into their sweets and giggling amongst one another. A group of young children ran through the gaps in the crowd, Kamui stepping to the side to allow them through watching as they playfully fought amongst themselves.

Next to her, Obito was silent, as cold as a statue as he detachedly watched the parade go by.

“Don’t look so glum dear.” She stated, biting into her dango with a happy little smile. “You look like you want to burn the city to the ground.”

“I’m not impartial to the idea.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders as he turned to her. “The entourage left for Tea this morning, we’ll be taking the quicker way back.”

“And Sasori?”

“Left his station this morning, received no trouble on his mission.”

“Very well.” Kamui paused for a moment, scanning over the smiling crowd. “As long as the people are safe then our mission is concluded, we are very nearly there.”

Obito only nodded, suddenly turning his head to the left. Peering over his side and following his line of vision, Kamui’s eyebrows raised in surprise as a familiar shock of red hair advanced through the crowd, drawing closer to them by the second.

“Well, well…” she hummed lowly, tilting her head as she considered. “What could she want from us?”

“Empress Kamui, Lord Tobi.” Kushina greeted, bowing her head in greeting, Kamui mirroring her actions.

“Kushina.” She said gently in response. “Is there something we can aide you with?”

“Perhaps it is best if we speak more privately?”

“Of course.” Kamui and Obito exchanged a small look. “Please. Lead the way.”

…

Kamui brushed over her skirts as she sat, Obito choosing to stand awkwardly behind her as Kushina cheerfully ordered with the man over the counter. Glancing around the establishment, Kamui smiled softly as she admired the clean wooden beams, recognising the wood as from a tree native to Fire.

“Why are you still standing?” Kushina asked, returning to their table with a smile. “I ordered three for a reason.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“I just paid for your food.”

“Either way, I prefer to stand.”

Kushina only stared back at him, her wide eyes darkening as she frowned, her voice dangerous as she spoke, like an upset parent scolding a child with their hand in the pastry.

“Sit.”

Obito sat, awkwardly shuffling to sit next to Kamui.

“I love ramen.” Kushina grinned, stretching upwards and practically bouncing in her seat in excitement, the dark cloud passing quickly. “It’s the king of all foods.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever had it.” Kamui admitted, folding her hands in her lap and chuckling at the other woman’s look of pure shock.

“You’ve never had ramen!” She shouted, lurching out of her seat, mouth agape. “What? Why? How?!”

“It’s not very popular with the court of Tea.” Kamui shrugged, smiling gratefully as the man handed them three bowls. “The old daimyo preferred platters of fresh meat and cheeses whenever there was a banquet, and as concubines we were kept on a strict diet of mainly fruits and oats outside of those times.”

“You’ve been in charge for, like, three years. You’ve never had it in all that time?”

“It-“ Kamui cut herself off, eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the happily steaming bowl in front of her. “It had never occurred to me as something I should do.”

Between Obito, Whirlpool and all the planning and dedication that went into ruling a country, the ability to try new food had admittedly never even occurred to Kamui, never asking for a change of the diet she had had while a concubine. The only thing she had added was udon and tofu and that was only on Obito’s insistence.

“You don’t have a favourite food then?” Kushina asked, her eyes soft and genuine as she slurped at her own ramen. Kushina and Obito had yet to touch their own, Obito staring at it like the steaming bowl offended him while Kamui just looked at it in confusion, poking at the egg with her own chopsticks.

“No.” She admitted, tilting her head and offering Kushina an almost melancholy smile. “But I suppose it is never too late to try new things.”

Kushina practically cheered as Kamui brought the bowl closer to her bringing the noodles to her lips.

“What about you?” Apparently Kushina had chosen Obito as her new target. “Why are you staring at it like it called your grandmother a whore?”

Next to him, Kamui almost choked on her noodles in surprise while Obito just levelled Kushina with a blank stare.

“Did Minato send you to try and see me without a mask?” Obito asked bluntly.

“Surprisingly, the world don’t revolve around you, ‘ttebayo.” Kushina scoffed, grumpily stabbing at her noodles. “I wanted to ask about Whirlpool.”

“You didn’t seem too interested in my idea the other day.” Kamui commented, noting out the corner of her eye that Obito had moved his mask just enough to reveal his mouth and eat his ramen.

“I’m not interested in moving.” Kushina agreed, waving off the idea as if it was a bad smell. “But the Uzumaki clan are spread across the nations, and I know many would love the opportunity to be a real clan once more. If there are even that many of us left.”

“I’ll have my scholars put on the task on tracking them down as soon as we get back, they would appreciate the challenge. I feel that the peace and prosperity has made them grow slightly bored.” She nodded, laying her chopsticks by her bowl for a brief moment. “What makes you so keen to stay here? Beside the new Hokage?”

“I have set up my life here.” Kushina paused, as if she had wanted to mention something but held herself back. “My friends, my home, my roots of fire have grown far too deep to ever consider uprooting them now.”

Kamui only hummed in vague agreement, folding her hands in front of her as she considered.

“I do not believe for a moment that is the full answer, but I will accept it as one.” She picked  up her chopsticks once more. “If anything, you have introduced me to good food, and that I am grateful for.”

“I told you ramen was good, ‘ttebayo.” The red-haired woman nodded enthusiastically. “Also, the other thing I meant to say was thank you.”

“Why would you need to say such a thing?”

“Many people tend to run from me in fear, or run towards me in greed when they find out I’m a jinchuriki. No one has admired the fact, it was… surprisingly refreshing for me.”

“Those people are fools.” Kamui scoffed, waving off the thanks. “A god is a god, whether they are malevolent or not. The fact remains you house a god inside of you, an arduous task worthy of praise.”

Not for long though.

“Thank you anyway.” Kushina said, a light smile on her lips as she observed the royal across from her, looking entirely out of place in a tiny cheap ramen shack, her clothes and jewellery combined likely worth more than the shops rent.

“You’re welcome.” Obito mumbled, speaking around his noodles, resulting in a sharp kick in the ankle by his wife.

…

Tea and the palace was as they left it, Kamui immediately stripping away the heavy diplomatic kimono and retreating into her office, perusing through the neatly organised documents that had been left for her to look over.

She is barely there long enough for the clock to chime on the hour when Obito enters, his shoulders stiff and his hands trembling.

“Darling.” She greeted, not looking up from her paper. “I trust the tailed god is free and our end of the bargain is upheld?”

Silence.

A slight scuffle of leather boots against wood was the only noise that confirmed that he was there, barely even breathing as she lowered her papers to look at him, confusion clear in the way she tilted her head.

“Darling,” she started cautiously. “what happened?”

“I’m sorry.” He finally managed to mumble after a long pause. “My darling Kamui, I’m so sorry.

“What do you mean Obito?” She asked, her kohl lined eyes narrowing in confusion as her husband opened his mouth to speak but no words escaped his lips. “What happened?”

“I’m so sorry.” He managed to finally croak out, the door behind him bursting open to reveal a frazzled messenger, a royal guard hot on his footsteps.

Both the messenger and the guard looked panicked, their eyes glued to the horizon as if they were expecting the goddess herself to appear and decree her wrath onto them all.

“What is going on here?” Kamui called out over the sudden noise, rising from her chair with a deep frown.

“Your majesty,” the messenger choked out, his eyes wide and horrified, tripping over his own words as he rushed to speak. “Konoha has fallen. The nine tailed god was set free and burnt it to the ground. The messages from Sand are scrambled, the one-tail has also been unleashed, and causing more havoc by the minute. We’re barricading the palace ma’am, the nine-tails disappeared, and no one has any idea were it went. For all we know it’s coming here.”

“You.” Kamui snapped her fingers at the guard, her mind focused on how to help her country before it could even fully processed what was being said. “I want every family from the outskirts to be brought into the palace walls, house them in the corridors if you must but no one is going outside the palace until the next sun rises and we receive word there is no danger to us. Have the chefs pull food from the reserves, I want every man woman and child accounted for and housed in the palace. No one is left behind.”

“Yes, your majesty.” The guard bowed quickly, turning on his heel and nearly tripping over his own feet to complete his task.

“Leave us.” She snapped at the messenger, rounding her own desk and slamming the oak door behind him, turning on her heel to face Obito. “What did you do? Obito, what did you do?”

“Nothing I swear.” Obito quickly spat out, his only eye full of earnest self hatred, too honest for a man that would go behind her back. “The creature cannot be controlled by the sharingan, it was all a lie made up by Zetsu. It did not care for my order and instead sought to reek it’s own destruction, controlled by a force separate from it’s own will and separate from me.”

Breathe in.

Breath out.

Panic was rising in her chest and no matter how much she breathed Kamui could not seem to quell it. The ice running through her veins and flooding into her extremities.

“Take me.” She demanded before any form of sense could stop her. “Take me there now.”

…

There was no more fanfare, no more drums, no more ribbons of every colour and costumes that gleamed in the light. Instead, there was nothing but soot and rubble, and the smog hanging overhead felt like the pitying gaze of Gods she had long abandoned.

She could see patches of fire in the distance, slowly eating up the lush landscape, and every few metres there was another body. Abandoned onto the ground, crushed by boulders, by their own roofs, or just laying there. Still. Cold.

You did this, their empty eyes told her, you did this.

The laughter and music from the parade of merely a day before had fallen victim to a still silence, not even the breeze daring to make a sound as it blew past her. She took a step forward, reaching out a hand as if hoping she would be able to brush away this horrible mirage, as if a single swipe of her hand would be able to fix everything she had done.

However, unlike a cruel mirage, the image remained, and there was no longer anything Kamui could do. The tailed beast had not fled, it had remained to wreak its own fury, not to be controlled by any mere eye. A god could not be controlled be a single eye after all, it is a god, what did you expect you pathetic little girl?

It was all a lie.

They had been lied to by Zetsu, by Kaguya, they had been lied to by themselves.

And now innocent people were dead.

A dull greyness filled the land around her, concrete and dust covering the once colourful and vibrant city. The splintered wood of collapsed market stalls raised high like arms reaching into the sky, dust clinging to her clothes as it blew with the wind around them. No light reached the ground, the sun covered by furious grey crowds that rumbled with the distant threat of thunder.

Perhaps Kamui had been delusional,  a farm girl who thought she could be empress, a whore who thought she could be better. Perhaps she was just as bad as Minato, as the councillors as the previous daimyo and chakusai.

“Kamui.” Obito said gently, his voice cutting through the still air. He offered her his hand, his cloak billowing in the breeze, his usual mask absent from his face so that Kamui could see how gentle his features were, waiting patiently for her to take his hand. “We need to leave, the people may be gone but who knows when they will come back. We cannot be seen here.”

She felt separated from her body as she nodded absentmindedly, her eyes still focused on the hundreds of bodies littered before them, crushed by rocks, laying prone on the floor, no one had been spared. A ninja lay on the ground, his hand still intertwined with the frozen civilian women, their last moments forever depicted with their deaths. Stepping closer to the pile of rubble closest to them, she brushed the largest rock to the side, her breath coming out as a wobbling gasp as she reached out. Her fingers intwined with the small bloody hands of a child, their fingers long grown cold and still.

She could register faintly that Obito was still speaking as she fell to her knees in front of the rubble, choking on her own breath as she gripped onto the dead child’s hand.

“I beg to you.” She mumbled softly, her throat choking around her own words as she rested her forehead on the cold tiny head, fresh blood smearing her face as she let out a low sob. “I beg you for your forgiveness.”

“Kamui. Please.” Obito begged behind her, a hand reaching out to pull her by her shoulder away from the rubble. “Kamui. We must leave.”

“I cannot leave.” She cried, reaching out to the rubble even as Obito pulled her back. “I will face the consequences for what I have done.”

“Kamui- “

“Kill me.” She begged, clinging onto his cloak the rocks biting into her legs as she remained kneeling, tears streaming down her face. “Please Obito. You must. I will never be forgiven for this. You can have everything, but please, I only ask you of this-”

“You don’t mean that.” Obito interrupted, anger and grief flashing in his eyes as her gripped onto her shoulders like a lifeline, shaking her briefly. “Kamui, you don’t mean that. You can’t mean that.”

“How could I live with this?” She asked, throwing her arms to gesture wildly around them, her eyes wild and cheeks stained red as she sobbed. “How could I bear the responsibility of this guilt? This torture? They will kill me for this, and I will deserve every second of punishment and pain that I receive from the almighty. I would deserve it all, I am only asking you to kill me before they do.”

“Kamui- “

“You will have everything you wanted. My kingdom. My power. My crown. My life.” She said, trembling fingers reaching out for his face as he kneeled in front of her. “The cure you seek can be found in the last book on the last shelf in the library, Obito I only ask you for this. Just-just make sure my homeland is safe.”

“I know.” He shouted, clinging onto her shoulders and shaking her once more. His only eye is a burning, beautiful, red even as it begins to water with unshed tears. The sound vibrated around them, even though no one else could hear it.

“What?” Kamui asked, blinking in confusion to what he could be referring to.

“I know.” A single tear slipped down his scarred cheek as he let out a trembling breath. “I found the cure to your little herb trick months ago. I haven’t needed you to survive for months. I stood above your bed with the knife in my hand, when we spoke about Rin months ago, but I couldn’t do it. No matter how much Zetsu wanted me too, no matter how much you had demeaned me. I couldn’t do it. You- you looked so peaceful just laying there, and you told me the truth about Rin, you made me see the flaw in Zetsu’s stupid plan. I wouldn’t kill you then and I certainly wont do it now.”

“Why not?”

“Because-“ Obito choked here, his grip on her tightening for a moment. The tears were continuing to fall down his face like rain, mirroring Kamui’s as he took in a deep breath, softly placing his forehead against hers. His eyes were closed while Kamui’s remained open, watching him intently despite her quivering lips and tears. Somewhere in the distance she could hear a child crying, and she only wants to sob harder. “Because if I kill you, you would be the second woman I loved to die in front of me, and I would be no better than him.”

It was ridiculous, it went against every piece of common sense and practicality that Kamui had ever drilled into herself in all her years of planning and scheming. However, she supposed that all logic and sensibility had left her the moment she had agreed to anything Zetsu said.

“Please, darling Kamui.” Obito begged, opening his eyes to stare back at her, the emotion in his eye raw and honest. “Please. Let’s just go.”

This time, when he offers her his hand, she takes it without question.

Chapter Text

Kamui collapsed onto the floor of her office, desperately trying to breath through her tears, nails digging into the wooden floor.

“What have we done?” She sobbed, curling into the floor. “How did this even happen?”

“The nine-tails erupted from it’s host with our seal earlier than we could suspect, and under less than desirable circumstances.” He ran off the information like a mission report, though his face was as grey as the clouds outside. “Sasori himself ran into trouble getting out of Sand in time. The creature barely even flinched at the presence of my eye, let alone consider obeying any orders. That child threw a spanner into all our plans-”

Obito cut himself off, revealing something he hadn’t initially meant to.

Her fingers still burned from holding the still, cold hand of a dead child, and Kamui’s eyes snapped up from the floor.

“What child?” She hissed lowly through her tears, pushing herself up from the floorboards, staring up at Obito from where she knelt on the floor. “Obito, what child?”

“It seems that the idiot Yondaime Hokage saw it fit to seal the nine-tails into his own son. Killing himself and Kushina in the process.” Obito barely even breathed as he spoke, his one red eye refusing to move from Kamui’s. “He used all his chakra stores and the very last of his wives to pull off such a drastic, desperate, move. It took everything from them both to seal the creature, and they paid the ultimate price for it.”

“You’ve never had ramen?”

Oh, Kushina. So sweet, looking out for her people until the very end. She had more than Minato as a reason to stay in Konoha, she had a future, she had a baby, a family of her own after Whirlpool had been decimated.

And Kamui had repaid her kindness by leading her to her death.

“You told me she’d live.” She growled lowly, hands curling into fists under the long sleeves of her kimono as she stood. “You told me that you had no ire with her and that she would live.”

Zetsu had swore to her that the god would leave without causing destruction, and look where that had gotten her. There was beginning to be a trend of people lying to her, and Kamui did not appreciate it.

“She was meant to.” Obito quickly defended himself, the fast pace making his words blur together as Kamui resisted the urge to throw up. “I didn’t know she was pregnant. If I did then I would’ve taken the already taken the weakened chakra into account. We didn’t know, Kamui. There was no announcement, not even a rumour. We couldn’t have known.”

Kaguya would’ve known.

Kaguya would’ve known exactly what would happen after they purposefully weakened Kushina’s seal.

Kaguya had lied to them.

With a yell, Kamui lunged for the ornate teapot on her desk, spinning to throw the delicate china at the wood wall, her scream of anger echoing across the walls of the building.

They had been manipulated.

Looking up, she noticed how even Obito, for all his need for revenge and power, looked slightly too pale.

They had been manipulated, and now too many innocent people were dead.

“Kamui-” Obito began to beg.

“I want a care package sent to both Fire and Sand, as well as our sincere apologies for their losses.” Kamui breathed out heavily, bracing her arms on either side of the desk. “Food, blankets, timber for new homes. Medicine, I want it all to be sent.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “But Kamui please, can we just-”

“Get out.” She stated flatly, staring at her own hands. “It’s not your fault Obito. I just- I need to think.”

“Kamui-”

“Get out!” She screamed, not even acknowledging him as he nodded solemnly, turning on his heel and shutting the door behind him.

Slowly, Kamui sank to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees and curling into a ball, her entire form shaking like a leaf in the wind as she sobbed.

…

The corridors of the palace was bursting with people.

Kamui’s command had not gone unheeded, both the prestigious and the common had been evacuated to the very inner walls of the palace, fear uniting them as one, filling up every room and space the palace had to offer.

The hour was late, and the candle in her hand flickered as Kamui quietly crept down the hallway, stepping over and in between many sleeping bodies.

Inside the palace walls, her people were safe, couples entangled even in sleep, though she had seen many glance warily at the sky before that had fallen into a restless slumber. The children, in all their innocence, had found joy in the sudden revelry of sleeping in the palace for a night, unknowing of the dangers that might have befallen them if they were outside.

Sleep had evaded her own grasp.

Every time she closed her eyes, she could see nothing but empty eyes and rubble, the threat of thunder and blood in the distance. The people of Tea would remain safe, their children would live to see the next sunrise, but the people of Konoha would not have the luxury.

Kamui stepped out into the courtyard, raising her candle to stare at the moon looking down at her from the heavens, the home of the goddess she had worshipped mocking her from the sky.

“How could you?” She whispered brokenly, her bare feet hitting the cold dirt of the courtyard, though her head remained fixated on the moon. “You take the reverent worship I have given you, the unyielding devotion, and you have thrown it all in my face.” She breathed in deeply, lips quivering and eyes burning. “I have done nothing but be your faithful worshipper from my first breath, I have installed Tea as a strong hold for you. For your favour, for your love, I would’ve done anything. No. I have done everything.” Tears slipped down her cheeks as she stared at the unblinking sky. With a sigh, she set down her candle at the stone bench, wiping away the stray tears with the back of her hand. “I believed everything, and now I find myself in a position to question what power you truly have. How much influence do you truly have moon goddess? After all, you are trapped in a distant rock, but me?” A hysterical laugh left her lips as she ran her hands through her loose dark hair, beginning to pace the courtyard. “I am an Empress. I am beloved by my people, I have wealth beyond what my ancestors thought possible, and you are trapped in a rock for something as foolish as pride.” She paused in her pacing, fisting the fabric of her nightgown as she glared at the sky, her voice growing louder by the second. “What power do you have? Did you waste it all on Zetsu? Your pathetic quim of a servant? Prove me wrong, Kaguya.” The name fell like venom from her lips, the name she was never supposed to say, but there was no regret to found beyond her fury. “Smite me down where I stand if you have the power. Do it!” She spread out her arms, laughing manically at the sky. “Kaguya. Kaguya. Kaguya! Hear me great moon goddess, see how brazen I am to say your name in such a holy land. Show me your fury Kaguya!”

Nothing happened, the sky only stared back at her as silent as ever, no grand display of a scorned goddess in sight.

Kamui let her arms drop, all her fury and energy leaving her in a moment.

“Yeah.” She muttered, collapsing on the stone bench beside her candle, head in her hands. “You have no power Kaguya, and I was a fool to think so in the first place.”

“Your majesty?” The sound of a child’s voice snapped her out of her melancholy, raising her head to see a small farm girl staring at her nervously. “A-are you okay?”

“I will be fine.” She stated with a soft smile, lowering her hands to her lap. “What is one as young as you doing awake at this hour?”

“I had to leave my teddy behind in the rush.” The child mumbled, shuffling from foot to foot. “I miss him. I don’t understand why we’re here.”

Oh, the innocence of small children.

Kamui stood up slowly, stepping forward and gently kneeling so she was closer to the young girls height.

“For safety, though I’m sure your parents could explain far better than I ever could.”

“I just want to go home.”

Kamui paused reaching out to the girl, brushing the hair from her eyes.

“I will personally make sure you will get home by tomorrows nightfall little one, I promise you.”

The girl sniffled quietly, looking at her with watery dark eyes.

“My mother says you are the goddess in human form, blessing us with a golden age and fortune. The crops have never grown so well. Is that true? Are you a goddess? Is the Lord Husband really a demon?”

For a brief moment, Kamui considered all that she knew to be true and false. The fact of a powerless goddess. The fact of a husband that thought more of her than she could ever imagine when they first met. An angry plant creature that was surely coming for her blood. A decimated city. A golden age. Light. Dark. Good. Evil. In the end it was all the same.

“Who knows.” Kamui laughed brokenly, straightening up and taking the candle from the bench, hiding her tears from the young girl. “Between you and me, I’m just a woman.”

The girl stayed silent for a moment, both of them quietly walking closer to the doors of a palace.

“I think you are a goddess.” The girl had apparently decided, smiling up at her brightly as she ran ahead to get back inside. ”After all, my mother is right about everything.”

“Goodnight little one.” Kamui breathed as the child ran off, turning back to stare at the moon one last time, hovering on the edge of the courtyard. “And to you, rabbit goddess, Kaguya… to you I bid a final goodbye.”

Blowing out the candle, Kamui quietly ventured back inside.

…

“Well.” Nagato said decidedly, running a hand over his face as he arrived at the palace. “That was a disaster.”

“Talk for yourself.” Sasori scowled, stretching his fingers as he sat. “I almost got squashed by the one-tail.”

“How is Kamui?” Nagato asked, turning to Obito who sat alone at the empress’ desk.

“Reclusive.” Obito frowned, reclined in the chair, his mask abandoned on the oak desk. “Silent. She’s withdrawn within herself for the whole week, her last order was to send care packages and aide. She’s been locked in her room ever since.”

“Unlike her.” Rain’s leader frowned. “Sarutobi has been reinstated as Hokage, both Namikaze and the Uzumaki jinchuriki have perished. Rain has followed your example, and we have had nothing but radio silence from both Fire and Sand.”

Obito openly flinched, straightening his chair.

“We know.”

The room fell silent, Sasori glancing around with an uncomfortable scowl.

“Bad time, I know. However, I got the word out through the missing nin network, there’s a few interested in joining, all of them admittedly untrustworthy but that’s what you get for wanting missing nin.”

“Any wheat in the chaff?” Obito asked, raising an eyebrow when Sasori threw down several different folders onto the desk. “Sasori, you’ve been proactive.”

“I had a crisis almost getting squished by a twenty foot demon from the heavens, let’s just say I’ve been reordering my priorities.”

“Hidan?” Nagato let out a low whistle, standing up to glance over the folders Obito was looking through. “You want to let the Mad Priest into the palace?”

“He’s practically immortal, you rip out his heart and the bastards still going.” Sasori paused for a moment. “Plus, rumour is he’s from the same pantheon as Kamui and her moon goddess. Different gods, same general religion. He’s tripping over himself at the chance to return to the holy land, and to serve it’s fellow devout worshipper.”

“Hidan’s an arsehole.”

“These are missing-nin, none of them are exactly good people.”

“Luckily enough for them, neither are we.” Obito murmured, flipping through the file. “And Kisame? He killed several of his comrades. How could we ever trust him?”

“Kisame’s the best of them.” Sasori nodded, keeping his face neutral. “Disillusioned with Mist, and honestly who wouldn’t be, the place is a mad house. He’s strong, and he’d be loyal to something he helped build from the ground. He had one request.”

“Which is?” Obito prodded.

“Limited contact and fighting. He wants to teach.”

“The shark wants to teach. He’d terrify the children just by smiling at them!” Nagato argued, looking up aghast at Sasori.

“A good teacher is one you fear.” Sasori shrugged, glancing between Nagato and Obito as they both stared at him. “What?”

“You had a weird schooling, you can tell.” Obito said flatly, separating Hidan’s and Kisame’s files from the rest, pulling out one more with careful consideration. “Invite these three, Hidan to be the head of the guard, Kisame can have his teaching job, and I want Deidara in charge of-“

“Deidara.” Sasori pulled a disgusted face. “The mans an idiot that blows everything up and calls it art!”

“Precisely why I want him.” Obito grinned, taking the papers. “Offer them to come here, though the final decision will be Kamui’s. I will bring it to her when she is better.”

“They’re hired.”

The three highly decorated shinobi snapped their heads towards the door, each of them displaying various degrees of shock as Kamui entered the room, bathed in robes of black and red, a golden crown resting on her head.

“I trust your judgement, Obito.” She continued, the picture of a dignified leader. “You have far more knowledge than I ever will on what makes a good or bad shinobi. If you want them, then you shall have them.”

“We’ll leave you two to discuss this.” Nagato said, grabbing a protesting Sasori by the collar and all but dragging him from the meeting room.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Obito nodded, standing up from his chair. “I will-“

“Did you mean what you said?” Kamui interrupted, walking towards the desk, staring back at him unflinchingly. “In the ruins of Konoha, did you mean what you said?”

“Every word of it.”

“Well, I hate to disappoint but I’m afraid you will get nothing from me sexually.” Kamui stated, launching into her pre-prepared speech. “Therefore, I’m certain you will want no relationship from me, I am… disliking of sex at the best of times. And before you even start, I am not traumatised, or in need of any fixing, I have always been like this. I understand if this is off-putting to you but-”

“Kamui.” Obito cut her off, raising his hand with a faint awkward laugh. “That’s perfectly fine. Besides,” he gestured to himself, “it’s not like you get urges or wants for sex when half your brain and all your reproductive organ have been squashed and remodelled.”

“There will be no sex.” Kamui reiterated, narrowing her eyes at him mistrustingly. “Ever.”

“I know that Kamui. I’m happy with that. It’s not what I want for us.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I just want to take care for you Kamui.” He said softly, taking her hand that lay flat on the oak desk. “Will you not let me?”

“It’s a terrible idea.” She murmured in response, staring at how his hand laid gently on top of hers. “I never claimed to be good, in fact, I might be the worst of them all.”

“Not to me.” Obito stated, leaning down to press his forehead against hers, his single eye staring into her wide black ones, shock colouring her face as he took her other hand. “Never to me.”

Kamui was silent, her eyes wide as Obito straightened up. He looked almost sheepish as he stared at her hands, like a schoolboy professing a simple crush rather than a twenty-one-year-old man that wielded more power over the very fabric of reality than she could ever image.

“I do not expect an answer.” Obito said hoarsely, as if the words hurt to even utter. “Whether it is a yes or a no, I will follow you regardless. Just give me a chance. Let me prove myself to you, tell me your wish and I would bend our very reality to make it happen, even if you wish for me to pluck the moon out of the sky and fashion you a crown from it.”

Many men had promised Kamui many things, from knowledge to power to gold, but they had never asked for nothing in return, they had never held even a fraction of sincerity that she could see in Obito’s eyes.

She tried to speak, to open her mouth and answer him, but it felt as if her tongue was trapped in her throat, unable to form a single syllable.

“I will leave you to consider.” He stated, letting go of her hands and bowing formally, walking past her to the direction of the door.

No.

No.

Obito was hers, he had said it himself. He was hers, he couldn’t just leave after spewing poetry that would make even the most cold hearted of courtesans sob.

Obito was hers.

“I find myself disillusioned with the moon.” She said finally, forcing out the words with a sudden sense of urgency, Obito’s hand pausing were it lay on the door as she turned her head to look at him. “I have everything, and yet I find myself wanting, no, craving for the one thing I think you will never give me.”

“Anything.” He said, letting go of the door, his single eye watering as if he felt physical pain from the mere accusation. “Darling, I would give you anything.”

Kamui stepped forward, reaching out to trace the scars on his face, Obito leaning into her soft touch.

“Even if I asked for Zetsu’s head?”

Her words were as sharp as the point of a kunai, her hand dropping from her husbands face as his only eye darkened, beginning to swim with that gorgeous deep red that she had always adored. Obito straightened like a soldier called to order, the muscles in his jaw and shoulders twitching as he stared down at her.

It was not the first time Kamui had realised that her husband was dangerous, maybe not to her, but he certainly was to the rest of the world. He walked with the grace of a trained assassin as he stepped towards her, Kamui barely reaching his collarbone as he looked down at her.

A moment of tense silence passed between them before a sharp grin spread across Obito’s face. Leaning down, Kamui felt her eyes go impossibly wide as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his scared fingers running through her hair as he spoke, his words mumbled against the skin of her forehead but still sharp with their sincerity.

“I will bring you his head on a golden platter, my beautiful empress, with a signed apology enclosed within his mouth.”

Chapter Text

If anyone ever asked Obito Uchiha, not that they ever did, what his favourite colour was he would pause and consider for several moments before answering that it was black.

Black like coal, like the call of the abyss, like his tailored silk ukatata’s. Black like the oak that had decorated his childhood home, like the colour of his grandmothers eyes.  His favourite colour had been purple once (or had it been orange? Had it been blue?) but that was a lifetime ago and it was nothing but a faded and fond memory to him now.

If he was honest with himself, Obito would probably say his favourite colour was the black of Kamui’s hair in the candlelight, the black of her eyes as she poured over imperial documents, legislation and ideas.

Then again, no one had ever asked him.

Obito looked over his supplies, Sasori whittling his way through his current wood project next to him. In front of him lay neatly organised rows of kunai, rope, sealing scrolls, and tracking equipment. Everything a ninja could ever need to track down the mythical will of a raging mad moon goddess, as ordered by your beloved empress, and wife.

If anyone had ever told Obito in his academy years that this was how he was going to be using his ninja training, he would’ve laughed in their face.

Yet here he was.

“How are you even going to start?” Sasori asked sceptically, still focused on his woodwork.

“Eastern Tea.” Obito answered honestly, counting through his ration packs. “From there spread out to Lightning, Sand, and Earth. Hopefully I’ll pick up on his trail soon enough, but I first need to know where he’s heading if I have any chance of cornering him.”

“I’m guessing your going to use your bloodline.” Sasori stated, turning back to his wood carving and humming lowly. “You ever come up with a name for that, or shall I just keep referring to it as your bloodline?”

Obito laughed lowly as he spun his kunai in his hand, measuring the familiar weight of it in his hand. However, his eyes remained fixed across the courtyard to where Kamui sat, the fur around her shoulders protecting her thin civilian body from the chill of winter.

“Kamui.” He admitted, hearing Sasori pause in his wood whittling behind him. “I named it Kamui.”

“Divine power.” Sasori stated, his own eyes flickering to Obito’s wife, sitting across the courtyard and unaware of their conversation. “Quite a name.”

“I will carry it with me with pride.” He grinned, tilting his head as he threw the kunai in the air. “Until the very end. Look after my wife while I’m gone Sasori, if a hair on her head is misplaced…”

“You’ll feed me to the sea, yeah, you’ve said.” Sasori quipped dryly. “Not like I would want to anyway. I don’t know whether you’ve noticed, but your wife is kind of terrifying.”

“I know.” A proud grin bloomed across Obito’s face, going back to recount the ration packs. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

…

It takes him two weeks to find Zetsu’s trail.

The plant demon is as slimy as his schemes, slipping from place to place virtually undetected. Zetsu moved quickly, not needing to stop for rest, but Obito had known the creature for years, and while he flinches at the memory of Madara’s cave the knowledge he had gained was invaluable.

Plus, it helped that he knew exactly what Zetsu liked to snack on.

He kicked at the mutilated body with a scowl, as if it could sit up and tell him which direction, they had seen Zetsu go. Though, even if he could do that, it would require having to find their head, which he was certain had been chewed on by the plant demon by now, churned up by whatever digestive system the creature must have.

Obito didn’t know, he had never claimed to be an expert in demon anatomy.

Kneeling next to the body, his eyes lifted from the torn limbs to the mess of splattered blood and meat that laid a path vaguely westward before disappearing completely.

Zetsu must have used his shadow travel to disappear. 

Obito’s scowl deepened sitting back next to the body and pulling out his map, penning another red cross onto the paper, this time north of Lightning.

“Where are you heading?” He hummed to himself, spreading the map out in front of him and staring at the various crosses. Zetsu’s shadow travel never took him far, he had to stop for energy every few hundred miles.

His first checkpoint had been the temples around the outskirts of Tea, knowing that Zetsu favoured them, slavering at the mere marble likeness of his precious goddess. The search throughout the temple had turned up blank. However, the search of Madara’s cave had revealed the Zetsu had been there but had been on the move for at least a week before Obito had reached there.

No matter, Obito had time and motivation, he would hunt Zetsu to the end of the world if it was required of him.

(I want his head.)

Kamui’s poison dipped voice echoed through his skull, like a pressing reminder of what was at stake.

Glaring down at the body, the answers still out of sight, Obito turned on his heel and continued onwards.

…

Prowling through the market stalls, Obito’s eyes glanced over the crowds, waiting for any sign of Zetsu. All the signs pointed to the fact that the damned plant demon had been here, from the dead body to the chakra scorches on the trees, though whether he was still here remained to be seen.

Stopping by the edge of a row of stalls, Obito sighed heavily.

Zetsu had been here, but he certainly wasn’t anymore.

Leaning against a rock, Obito stared ahead, surveying all the vendors curiously, catching sight of one that was selling small wooden figurines of chakra beasts to children. Zetsu had wanted to kill the beasts that held his mother, and all the bodies Obito had found had led north through Lightning. However, if Zetsu was continuing to target tailed beasts, why head North? All the vassals there were adults, likely to put up a fight and have guardians Zetsu would not be able to dispatch quietly.

The only two children where in Suna and Konoha. Obito had checked Suna personally, the new vassal was the son of the Kazekage, and heavily guarded. It wasn’t Zetsu’s style, he’d want his first strike to be quiet, coordinated, return some strength and regather a group before striking out at the others.

That only left-

But that didn’t make sense, Zetsu’s tracks led north. They were stable, appearing at intervals, they were perfect signs that Zetsu-

They were perfect.

They were too perfect.

Obito was being played.

Cursing, he pushed himself off of the rock, bringing out his map to scowl at the red markings, it was a textbook idea of how to tell if an enemy was heading northward, and Obito had been stupid enough that Zetsu would make it that easy.

Rolling up the map, he glanced over the trees surveying over the market, as if he would be able to see Zetsu lounging and laughing at him mockingly up in the branches of one of them.

The scowl burned onto his features, he headed towards the one place he knew Zetsu was going, the same place he never wanted to set foot in.

Obito headed southward to Konoha, fixing his black mask onto his face as he bled into the shadows.

…

It was… surprisingly easy to gain access to Konoha.

Obito stepped out of the shadows of the alleyway, keeping his head down and his hood up as he moved through the marketplace, people hurrying to replace the valuables they had lost in the chaos of the nine tails unleashed.

He watched a small girl hurry past him, a new teddy bear clutched in her hands and tried to ignore the weight of the guilt on his heart.

He wouldn’t let it happen again.

He wouldn’t let Zetsu continue his reign of terror anymore.

Obito stopped at the gates of the orphanage, watching the children play with each other, laughing and running despite the cold winter chill. There was so many of them. So many more orphans than there had been when he lived in Konoha.

That was war, that was disaster.

Underneath his cloak, his hands clenched in distaste.

He waited until darkness fell, searching all of the rooftops and trees for stationed ANBU, surprised to find none at all.

Either, an agent was severely lacking in their duties, or they hadn’t thought it necessary to station protection for their defenceless jinchuriki, or, even better, the son of their dead Hokage.

Well, at least they made it easy for him.

Obito slipped inside the orphanage, keeping his steps light as he searched the rooms. The impression he made earlier that there had been a lot of orphans hadn’t been false. There was at least five children to a room, when realistically the space shouldn’t hold more than three. The orphanage had three floors, younger children on the bottom level closer to the staff room. He dreaded to think what he would find if he ventured upstairs.

Peering into the cots, he found babies younger than two cuddled together in ever cot. Yet none of them were the child he was looking for. Obito had to move swiftly and quietly, not wanting to wake any of the sleeping babies and deal with the tears.

Finally, he reached the edge of the cramped rooms, to the last cot of the row, arguably in worse condition then all of the others. The wood on the legs was rotting away, splintered and dangerous, threatening to crack any minute. The mattress had seen better days as well, littered with holes, the old stuffing poking out from the worn threads.

“Surely not.” He said lowly, stepping closer to the cot and looking inside.

Minato’s child should’ve been treated better than this, could’ve been taken in by a clan, as Obito had first checked.

However, here the child lay, on a dangerous cot, with threadbare clothes and with no supervision. Zetsu must’ve realised, must’ve surveyed his options and chosen the easy pickings, a tiny defenceless child.

What had a small baby done so wrong?

That bastard Hatake, never stepping up even when it mattered.

A coward until the end apparently.

Obito didn’t want to believe it, wanted so desperately to be wrong.

However, the blonde hair and sky-blue eyes staring back at him curiously told him everything he needed to know, and even if they didn’t, the seal on the new-born’s stomach certainly did.

“Now.” Obito hummed slowly, lifting the child from the cot and holding him close. “You obviously can’t remain here while I get rid of Zetsu, so what am I going to do with you?”

Uzumaki Naruto the rushed nametag on the cot stated.

“Naruto?” Obito chuckled lowly, the new-born staring at him curiously, reaching his tiny hands out to him. “Of course, she would.”

Obito stared at the child, and Naruto stared back, wide awake even in the late hour.

“Well, Naruto.” He sighed. “I know a very beautiful lady who wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on you, just until daybreak.”

Naruto was the vessel of a god, and if anyone loved the gods then it was Kamui.

…

“Hello Zetsu.” He cheered, dropping the plant creature into the clearing, miles north of Konoha, immediately tackling the plant creature the moment he had spotted him lurking outside of the orphanage. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Uchiha Obito.” Zetsu mocked, spitting it out as if it tasted foul as he ripped himself out of his grip. “Forever a fool for love.”

“Rather it be that than a jester in your court.” Obito hissed lowly. “Besides, I’m a King in this court, why ever would I want to be in yours?”

“The goddess only wants the best for us all.” Zetsu hummed lowly, sweet as honey yet as poisonous as belladonna. “She would erect temples in your honour, bring back your one true love. Why waste times with used goods such as that whore of an empress when you could have her back?”

He would be a liar if he said he didn’t consider it, just for one moment.

Rin, pure and sweet Rin, taken from this world far too soon.

His love for Rin was like the memory of a sweet summer breeze, pure and innocent. Sweetened by childhood infatuation and the belief that all things in the world would be alright. His love for her was like violets in the spring, they all died once the winter freeze hit.

He had loved Rin, once, but Rin was gone now.

Rin was a memory, a sweet memory that he would cherish forever, but Obito wouldn’t besmirch the sweet memory of her by dragging her back and forcing her to be with him, when she hadn’t even loved him back when she was alive.

No, the joy of that had fallen to Kakashi.

Bastard.

However, his love for Kamui…

Loving Kamui was like loving the fire that warmed your home. Beautiful in every way as it flickered and danced, yet you could never forget the danger of it. One misstep and the same fire that aided you would be burn everything to the ground. Loving Kamui was like loving the stars, forever out of a normal man’s reach.

But Obito wasn’t just any man, he had felt the flame, he had touched the stars, he had pocket dimensions right at his fingertips and he had married Kamui no Chaba.

How many men would kill for the honour of Kamui’s gaze, how many would die for the chance to touch her? Too many. Yet Obito had done what they could not, he had gained her attention right back.

He loved her.

He loved her more than anything.

“Do not,” he growled out lowly, flipping his kunai into an offensive position, “call my wife a whore.”

“An arguably factual statement.” Zetsu hissed.

“She asked for your head.” Obito felt a grin spread across his face. “Do you know what I said to her?”

“What?”

“That I’d deliver it on a silver platter.” His tongue snaked across his teeth. “And I’m not one to break promises to my wife.”

They both lunged at once.

Zetsu parried his blows, unblinking and ruthless, any damage to his skin knitted itself back together. As he slid back to dodge a blow, Obito felt vines wrap around his ankle, distracting him as Zetsu lunged for his throat. Both of them fell backwards onto the grass, Obito managing to rip himself away quick enough to dodge the thorn aimed for his heart.

With practiced swiftness, Obito felt the chakra in his blood pulse through him, a wall of mud exploding into existence in front of him just in time to block the ten kunai Zetsu had sent flying in his direction.

Obito remembered it all, everything Zetsu had taught him and everything he had learnt everything about Zetsu in the process, even if the plant demon never meant to teach him such things.

Chakra.

The very energy of the earth.

Everything around them contained it, a constant exchange of energy he just had to tap into, to bend to his will. He could bend the energy of the air around him, change it into fire, summon the earth to protect him, extract the moisture from the air to fling a water attack at his opponents, hold lightning in his hand.

Energy.

Magic, his wife would scowl.

Whatever you wanted to call it, none of it would hurt Zetsu.

The plant demon was a creature made purely of chakra, the ancient kind, if Obito was going to throw a chakra fireball at him, the creature would still be standing there entirely unhurt. Chakra couldn’t hurt itself, and while normal people had an outer layer that could be killed and hurt by chakra, Zetsu had no caveats, he was chakra through and through and he couldn’t be hurt by it.

Obito learned that a long time ago, six feet under in Madara’s lair, learning to wield fire with a giant fan.

Now, the question remained how Obito was actually going to kill Zetsu if he couldn’t stab him as he’d heal instantly, and he couldn’t destroy him with chakra.

Perhaps, I should’ve put more thought into the logistics of it. Obito thought, dodging another one of Zetsu’s attacks.

If he couldn’t be killed by chakra or a knife then what.

As he swung out the kunai, burning the vine that launched for his ankles, Obito missed the one aiming for his arm. The vine dragged him down, keeping him on the floor as Zetsu hovered over him, the creatures teeth sharp and bared in the moonlight.

“It seems I’ll be the one sending your head back to Kamui.” Zetsu grinned, though his words were far from pleasant. “I’m sure it would crush her, to see your lifeless face right before I kill her.”

“Don’t you dare touch her.” He barked out, fighting against the vines holding him trapped.

Kamui, his darling Kamui, if this was the end of him then he wanted his last thought to be her, to die with her name on his tongue, to die with her name engraved in his eye.

Kamui.

Kamui.

“Say hello to your darling Rin for me.” Zetsu smiled, raising his hand high above his head.

There was nowhere to go- only…

Only-

Kamui.

Kamui.

Freeing his hand from the vines, Obito stopped Zetsu’s hand from plunging into his chest, making eye contact with the creature, he felt his sharingan activate, seeing the world in a new light, he pulled Zetsu inside with him, into a tiny pocket dimension kept within his sharingan.

His Kamui, the perfect gift his mangekyou sharingan had gifted him.

“Do you really think I can be contained here forever?” Zetsu scoffed, surveying the pocket dimension with an angry scowl.

“I don’t need you to be.” Obito stated, out of breath as he staggered to his feet, head hung low. “Kamui will be disappointed that she never got your head, but I’m sure the knowledge of your demise will be enough.”

“You can’t kill me.”

“Can’t I?” He felt the grin spread across his face. “I wouldn’t be so sure. This isn’t chakra, this is more, this is the same branch of ancient power that made you Zetsu, I’m sure it can kill you as well.”

In a blink, Obito left Zetsu in the pocket dimension, finding himself alone in the field. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply, focusing on the pocket dimension he had left Zetsu in, reaching out he could feel the edges of it brush against his fingertips, like a glass globe he could do anything with, pull things out, put them back in.

He could hear Zetsu shouting, destroying the landscape and threatening his very soul.

Obito didn’t blink, didn’t even hesitate as he took the glass ball dimension that held Zetsu into his hand, pouring all his remaining chakra into his fingertips as he crushed the dimension from the outside.

When Obito opened his eyes, Zetsu had fallen silent, crushed into nothing like the dimension he had been in.

He had won.

It was over.

Chapter Text

“Well,” Sasori stated bluntly, his fire red hair that Kamui adored falling into his eyes as he glanced between the cot and Kamui. “What are you going to do with it?”

“It?” Kamui stressed, turning to him with raised eyebrows. “They are a child Sasori, not an it.”

“Still doesn’t explain what you’re going to do.” Sasori replied, both of their dark eyes fixing back on the babe. “What the hell is Obito even doing?”

“Something that facilitates him needing to drop off a child in its cot without a word.” She hummed in reply, walking forwards and plucking the stuck on nametag from the cot. “Naruto Uzumaki?” She blinked blankly, lowering the nametag and staring at the child. “Ah, so this must be Minato’s and Kushina’s child, which also means…” She trailed off, lifting the tattered shirt that clothed the child, red stained fingertips tracing the edge of the seal burnt onto the child’s stomach. “Hello little godling.”

“That looks like it hurts.” Sasori whistled lowly, standing next to her as Kamui’s fingers continued to trace the seal thoughtfully. “Red around the edges as well.”

“Is it infected?”

“Irritated definitely, but not yet infected.” He hummed lowly, tilting his head in thought. “This shouldn’t happen, even if he wasn’t looked after by ninja, basic hygiene and care aren’t hard guidelines to follow.”

Kamui hummed in agreement, withdrawing her fingers and running her hands along the edges of the cot. It was poorly made, and had obviously seen better days, splinters brushing against her fingertips. It was unstable as well, the front left leg missing chunks of wood and the bottom of it water damaged.  The mattress was firm, nothing more than dust and springs, unfit for any child let alone one as young as this.

Completely unfit for the son of an Hokage, unfit for someone that carried divine blood.

“He is not cared for.” Kamui said lowly, her dark eyes softening in realisation. “Even the children of the poorest farmers have better cots than this.”

“They blame him.” Sasori agreed. “Konoha has lost many, and there are whispers that the demon that ravaged the sky shapeshifted into a child, though I can’t believe any fool would be stupid enough to think a tiny child as a demon.”

“We didn’t know that Kushina was pregnant.” She sighed heavily, gently lifting Naruto from the rotten cot. “My guess is neither did anyone else, perhaps that is the explanation they chose to believe to explain the events, and to excuse their own actions.”

Kamui had no particular love for children, she loved all people no matter their age or status. She had often been handed tiny babes by court ladies, their mothers nervously asking Kamui to bless the child with beauty and prosperity. Despite this, Kamui had no children of her own, no matter how much her council grumbled about it. It was not that she disliked children, just the process used to make them.

“Find me everything you can about the boy.” She instructed Sasori, her eyes lifting from Naruto to the red haired head of her army. “Though I suppose it can wait, you’re excused for the night Sasori.”

“Are you certain I cannot grab you a maid on my way to my quarters?” He asked as he walked towards the door.

“My husband entrusted the child to me, so he shall stay with me, nobody else.” Kamui stated firmly, Naruto squirming in her arms, tossing and reaching upwards in his sleep. “Good night Sasori.”

“Good night Kamui.”

Sasori gently shut the sliding door behind him as he left, Kamui sighing heavily and looking down at the baby, blinking in surprise when she found a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at her. Tiny wrinkled hands reached upwards, wrinkled fingers diving messily into the loose black waves of her hair, blue eyes staring at the hair caught between his fingers in wonder.

“If any other boy tugged on my hair, I would have them fiercely reprimanded.” She laughed lowly, gently unwrapping the hair from Naruto’s fingers. “I personally owe you a great debt little godling, and it pains me greatly to hear you a disregarded for your status, just as your mother was.”

Naruto said nothing, though Kamui reasoned it would be far more startling to hear such a tiny baby speak.

“I am the one to blame for your parents deaths.” Kamui reprimanded softly, a small smile tugging on the edges of her lips. “You should not look so happy at being in my arms. I am at fault for the apparent hatred you face after all. No words I could say would ever convey a fraction of the guilt and horror I feel over it, perhaps that will be my punishment? To be forever dragged down by the weight of it on my soul. What do you think, little godling?”

Naruto babbled, his hands once more reaching for her hair.

Kamui could only laugh, sitting down on the edge of the chaise as she hummed softly, trying her best to remember the same tune that had been sung to her once. She had long since forgotten the words, but she could still vaguely piece together the tune.

“Here’s what I don’t understand.” She whispered lowly, not that anyone would dare to spy on her. “They all call themselves better than Tea, but I would never allow a child to live in these conditions.” She stroked the delicate flesh of the child’s forehead, the soft vibrations from being held against her lulling him into a deep sleep. “They say that we are backwards, with our temples and our government, and my fury only serves as supposed evidence to their point. The only thing that they have that we don’t in shinobi, and that’s not going to stay that way for long.”

She glanced from the rotten cot to Naruto, and then back to the cot once more. A deep scowl tugged at her lips as she surveyed the damage done to the wood.

“Fire consumes all, that is true.” She stated, more thinking aloud than speaking to the child. “And they will make you believe it is the best way is to consume and destroy everything that is other. But Tea? Tea steeps, it adapts, it integrates until it is something better than before. They will make you think you are Fire, but my darling little godling, golden blood runs in your veins. You are Whirlpool, just like your mother, and just underneath that you are a child of Tea. And no child of Tea is treated like this.”

Kamui slowly rose to her feet as she spoke, walking from her living quarters to her private quarters of the palace, the maid preparing the bed immediately stopped and bowed deeply. Her eyes wide at the sight of the new born in the empress’ arms.

“Apologies your majesty, I am almost finished I swear.” The young girl shuffled nervously, unable to take her eyes off of the child. “M-may I be so rude, and inquire whose child that is?”

“It is of no importance, I am simply looking after him.” Kamui stated, tilting her head and staring back at the maid. “The room is fine, though, I need you to bring the imperial cot out of storage.”

“The imperial cot, your majesty?” The maid stuttered out in a short breath.

“Yes. Ostentatious thing, circular if I remember correctly? Ask the matron, I’m sure she remembers where they put it.”

“The matron says the imperial cot is only for the heirs.”

“And as there are no heirs, I’m not sure they would complain.” Kamui said, a humorous smile tugging on her lips at the image. “It’s my property, I can do whatever I want with it. Tell the matron it was a direct order, I believe she may stop complaining then.”

Within the hour, an oak cradle was carried into her room, the two guards bowing swiftly and leaving as quickly as they came. Nodding to them, Kamui placed the stirring Naruto inside, her hands running across the carefully sanded and varnished wood. The imperial cradle wasn’t big, made to be kept in the chambers until the heir was two and could safely be moved into the nursery without needing constant attention. In the past, it would be moved from the chambers of the royal couple at nightfall and the babe would be monitored by the designated wet nurse until the couple awoke once more. Absentmindedly, Kamui traced the body of the porcelain gold dragon that wrapped around the top off the cradle, gently shushing Naruto as he squirmed and whimpered when he noticed the lack of warmth.

“You are one of the divine, little godling.” She hummed softly, tucking the blankets around his tiny form. “And no divine deserves a rotting cot, do they little fox?” Tapping his nose, Kamui straightened up, staring at the mountains of Tea outside of her window, the stars shining high above them. Opening the doors, Kamui stepped outside onto her small balcony, the breeze rushing past her as she leaned onto the bars.

“A life for a life.” She stated into the open air. “A debt to be paid.” Her hands tightened on the barriers on the balcony. “Oh, the gods do seem to have a sense of humour. I kill his parents, you give me their abandoned child with a god inside of him. This is my debt.” She turned, her red skirts flowing with the breeze as she stared at the cradle stationed at the edge of her bed. “This is my punishment. My redemption.” She breathed in sharply, scowling briefly at the sky. “Fine. I will see it done.”

Tilting her head upwards, the stars seemed to shine brighter, the wind blowing harder in agreement.

You abandon one god to become a slave to the rest of the pantheon.

The irony of it all.

…

“What troubles my wife this fine evening?” A deep voice spoke out, Kamui’s eyes snapping open to the sight of dawn, and her husband hovering over her, his singular red eye almost glowing in the semi-darkness.

She had fallen asleep laying at the foot of her bed, her hand numb from resting on the cot for hours, wrist leaning on top of the head of the porcelain dragon.

“You leave me a babe with no explanation.” She replied, turning onto her back and staring up at him. “Take a guess at what troubles me.”

Obito straightened up as she did, watching her carefully as she stepped off of the bed, rubbing her eyes to rid herself of fatigue. Brushing her hands against her nightgown, Kamui shoved her arms through her black sheer nightgown to protect her from the chill of the winter morning, felt even inside the insulated wall of the palace.

“You’ve been hurt.” She commented, fingertips brushing against the deep cuts and slowly forming bruises on his side. “By the fact you are standing here alive, I’m certain you bring me good news.”

“Zetsu is dead.” He confirmed, bowing his head and staring down at her. “I trapped him inside my sharingan and crushed the pocket dimension he resided in.”

“Has that affected your bloodline?”

“The Kamui is apart of me, it will take a couple of days to regrow but I could never destroy it completely. I simply destroyed a singular part of it, the part that contained Zetsu. He is dead. Unfortunately, I cannot give you his head as you requested but I swear on all the gods and their creations, Zetsu is dead.”

Zetsu is dead.

Relief burned through her like fire, resisting the urge to scream out in joy like a common lady, Kamui only folded her hands together and nodded sagely.

“Kamui?”

A red heat rose in Obito’s cheeks, feet shuffling bashfully and refusing to look her in the eye.

“There is no name I  would rather carry with me for eternity.” He said lowly, a smile tugging on Kamui’s lips at the explanation. “No one I would rather to tie myself to forever.”

Her husband was a charmer.

Raising both of her hands, she cradled Obito’s head in her palms, her husband closing his eyes at the contact, his exhale coming out unsteadily. With ease, Kamui rose to her tip toes, her nose brushing against his as she spoke lowly.

“I am glad you are okay.” She stated. “It has gotten to the point where I could not imagine the world without you Obito.”

“A dark and desolate place our worlds would be without each other.” He replied, barely moving, his eyes still closed.

“That they would be.” She hummed, her lips brushing against his as she leaned closer. “What would my warrior like as repayment for his slaying of the beast?”

“Nothing.” Obito’s words came out choked, his hands hesitantly resting on her waist. “I only want to be yours.”

“Many a man would want that, what makes you so different?”

She’s teasing him, her voice light and joking as he opens his eyes find fid her a hairsbreadth away from him.

“Because I love you.” He stated, his red eye spinning and glowing in the light of the dawn. “Because I love you more than any title. I could commission a thousand poets to put it into words and none of them would ever come close.”

Kamui closed the gap, pressing her lips against his.

There was no fireworks, no flames or lightning like many stories would say. However, there was an intense feeling of softness and comfort in the action, like someone had stuffed her soul and mind with cotton clouds and erased every bad thing in the world for just a single moment.

“I love you too.” She whispered when she finally pulled away. “I love you too.”

And it was true.

She loved him more than anything.

Obito breathed out, like the weight of the entire world had just been lifted off of his shoulders.

“I must take the babe back, and then we can discuss this more.” He murmured deeply, pulling himself away from her like it was the hardest thing he had ever done.

“What?” Kamui blinked. “No. No, you can’t.”

“He is not ours my darling. We cannot keep him.”

She could. She could. Kamui was an empress, she had a village and an army. Fire did not care for him, that much had been obvious, so why couldn’t he stay with her?

She owed a debt, they both owed one. To Fire, to the Gods, to Naruto himself.

“You said you would bring me Zetsu’s head.” Kamui said, stepping between the cot and Obito, using herself as a barrier between him and the sleeping Naruto. “You have no head to give me, so I want him instead. I want Naruto to stay here.”

“Kamui…” Obito practically pleaded, his eyes wide as if it physically hurt him to deny her. “You know this is foolish. It doesn’t work like that, you know it doesn’t.”

“But it could.” Kamui reasoned, laying a hand on the porcelain dragon, her eyes wide and pleading. “No one in that dreadful city cares for him, this is our chance to repay the debt of life that we owe. Besides, even if that wasn’t the case, you cant expect me to let you take him back to be mistreated, his seal is close to infected, and he is starving. It took three bottles for him to finally sleep, you cannot expect me to return him to suffering and starvation.”

“I know, my darling, I know.” Obito reasoned, reaching up to cradle her face in his hands like she had done with him moments ago. “But if you keep him here, then we have stolen a jinchuriki, and they will not take kindly to such a thing. My darling, I will wage war for you if you wish it so, but we have no ninja garrison. Sasori and I, we are only two, many lives will be lost.”

Stealing a jinchuriki was a major diplomatic incident, something Tea would never recover from. Fire’s ninja force would tear through her people wish the ease of a knife through butter. Kamui’s people would die all for a simple and selfish desire to repay a debt only Kamui owed. They would kill them all, install a puppet on the throne and everything Kamui had done would be for nothing.

Hesitantly, her hand fell from the cradle. Obito nodded at her slowly as his hands dropped from her face to pick up Naruto from the cradle.

“We still have a debt to this child.” Kamui forced out, watching how even Obito hesitated at the idea of taking Naruto back to Konoha. “And I will see it paid.”

“If you want him, then you shall have him Kamui.” Obito swore, scarred fingers cradling Naruto’s delicate head as he stared back at her. “Just not yet.”

“Just not yet.” She agreed, her eyes dark and serious. “Just not yet.”

…

When the orphanage’s matron counted all the babes in their cots that morning, all of them were accounted for. Some of them crying, some of them sleeping against each other, some having the strength to reach outside their cots, tiny fingers grasping at the beams of sunlight that filtered in through the worn curtains.

If anyone noticed, they would say that it was the most well rested the mysterious Uzumaki new born had ever looked. If anyone cared, they would remark that his mattress seemed far softer and far more luxurious than it had the night before. If anyone had bothered to check, they could’ve sworn they’d seen a ghost of a man standing over the child’s cot before he had disappeared back into the shadows.

However, nobody noticed, so the day continued as it would have with one singular change.

Instead of rubble and foxes,  a tiny Uzumaki Naruto dreamed of black hair, scarred hands and crimson satin.

It was a nice dream.

Chapter Text

“I must admit,” Kamui hummed lowly, tilting her head as she examined the shinobi in front of her. “You aren’t quite what I was expecting for a teacher.”

Hoshigaki Kisame was easily over six feet tall, his teeth as sharp as daggers even if his smile was gentle. In certain lights, his skin was almost blue, and his pupils formed slits instead of circles. He seemed utterly out of place squeezing himself into the chair on the opposite side of Kamui’s desk.

According to her husband, he had also killed his entire squadron with the same sword that was currently resting on his side, which only added to Kamui’s confusion.

“I left Mist because they wanted me to keep killing.” Kisame shrugged good naturedly. “They wanted a cold-blooded killer, so I gave them one, but I don’t want to do it anymore, just cause I’m good at it doesn’t mean I want to do it.”

Kamui could understand that.

“I guess sometimes the thing we are raised for simply is not what we want.” She murmured, red painted fingertips running across her desk.

“The bingo book claims you’re a shinobi, a very successful honeypot from Rain- is it true?”

“Red Lotus.” Kamui smiled, a soft chuckle leaving her lips as she met Kisame’s eyes. “I’m aware of what the bingo book says about me. That I killed the daimyo and framed the chakusai, that I’m from Rain and that’s why Tea has such close connection to Amegakure. A highly lethal kunoichi, skilled at the seductive arts, tell me Kisame, do you believe any of it?”

“You’re not a kunoichi, your chakra system is too weak and the bingo book is likely amending itself with that new information as we speak.”

“And about me killing the former daimyo?”

Kisame was silent for a moment, calculating his next words carefully.

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

A soft smile tugged on her lips as she leant backwards in her chair, never breaking eye contact with the cold-blooded shinobi across from her. Reaching into her drawer, she brought out several folders, holding the out to him.

“I’ve compiled a list of everyone my husband says holds enough chakra to go forward with shinobi training.” Kisame took the folders carefully, the tension in his shoulders relaxing slightly the more Kamui continued. “There’s only twenty in total, you must understand we don’t really have the bloodlines for strong chakra here. You’ll be teaching two classes of ten, divided by their ages. You have three weeks to get back to me with a thorough curriculum and any adjustment to you classroom you require. Any questions?”

“That’s it?” He asked, staring at her in amazement, the folders unopened in his hands. “You’re just deciding to trust me with your young?”

“Oh, don’t be mistaken Hoshigaki.” She hummed lowly. “You will be watched like a hawk, and a foot out of line will lead you meeting the end of my lord husbands sword. However, for whatever reason, my husband believes you are worthy of a chance. I may not trust you, but I do trust him. So, a chance you will have.”

Kisame nodded slowly, the folders clutched tight in his hands as if he were expecting her to snatch them back.

“Sasori will take you to the citizenship office.” She continued. “And show you your designated classroom, I will look forward to reading your curriculum. Welcome to Tea, Hoshigaki Kisame.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

…

“Is there any reason you wish to stay with me for this?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at Obito as he planted himself jest behind her chair, folding his hands behind him and staring expectedly at the door.

“Hidan isn’t like Kisame, and he didn’t get the moniker Mad Priest for nothing.” Obito explained, his left eye twitching in annoyance as he continued to stare ahead. “He is… an eccentric.”

“How so?”

“He’s a religious eccentric.” He continued. “He’s the priest of Jashin. Can’t die because of it, though that may just be an outlandish rumour.”

If Kamui was any less of a woman, she would’ve chocked to death on the spot.

“Well, I’m sure we’ll see.” She smiled softly, facing ahead as the door opened.

Hidan was tall, blonde hair slicked back and muscles on full display, around his wrist were the three black rosaries’ common for Jashin worshippers. If he had not devoted his life to priesthood, Kamui could imagine he would’ve been very popular with both women and men of the court.

Kamui would know.

“Empress.” Hidan bowed dramatically, spinning his staff in his hands, dark eyes lifting to stare up at her. “I am Hidan, the one true priest of the great God Jashin, I thank you for welcoming me back into the holy lands.”

“See, here’s where I’m slightly curious.” She breathed out, cutting straight to the chase, leaning forward and red painted lips parting as she grinned. “They say you are the true priest of Jashin, but how is such a thing possible? Only those born with the blood of the holy land are chosen by the divine.”

“Of course.” Hidan seemed to grow impossibly wider as he sat straight with pride. “My mother was the hearth tender at the temple here in Tea before she went and-” There was a sharp movement as Obito stared threateningly at Hidan, “… ran away with my father.”

“So, you’re aware that Tea is a holy land?”

“Yes.”

“So, you’re aware that falsely claiming such a thing as divine priesthood is a crime punishable by death?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect.” Kamui purred, her teeth sharp when she bared them with a sweet grin. “Obito, darling, cut off his head.”

“What?” Obito hissed, the same time as Hidan’s deep laughter rang around the office.

“Oh, you’re fucking brilliant.” Hidan huffed between laughs. “No wonder the great Jashin loves you.”

“It’s fairly simple. If he’s lying, then he’s dead and we sacrifice the body to Jashin. However, if he is who he says he is, then we wont have an issue.” She stated, turning to Obito with a raised eyebrow.

“Come at me bastard.” Hidan howled, dropping his own sword and spreading his arms wide. “It’ll be the only chance you-”

Hidan didn’t get to finish his mocking, Obito’s sword slicing cleanly through his neck before he got the chance.

Only, Hidan was still laughing.

Surging from her seat, Kamui stared at the decapitated head, watching in vague horror as Hidan’s mouth kept moving even if the rest of the body in the chair wasn’t.

“Oh- that was good, you ugly bastard!”

“Chop off his head, and he’s still talking.” Obito muttered, wiping the blood off of his sword. “Can I cut off his tongue instead?”

“Fascinating.” Kamui breathed, picking up the head and examining it carefully, turning the head in her hands despite Hidan’s discourteous cursing. “I admit, I was dubious to your claims but it seems you are who you say you are. What brings you to Tea, priest of the dead?”

“A priest needs a temple.” If Hidan’s dismembered head had a body, then it would probably shrug. “Tea has the best one. Also, I’m always happy to protect another of the divinely chosen. You’re whole thing with Kaguya? Oh, you got the gods scared in an uproar for a second there hot stuff.”

“We are nothing but a slave for the divine.” Kamui murmured, placing Hidan’s head gently back onto his shoulders. “Welcome to Tea, Hidan.”

…

While Kisame and Hidan had both been loud and overpowering, in their own unique way, Deidara was oddly quiet. He was small, practically dwarfed by the size of the chair he sat on, blond hair fell into his face as he stared at the floor.

He had deflected only a month ago when his village had tried to remove his kekkai genkai, he had ran, they had killed his entire family in return.

Deidara was only fifteen.

Kamui silently poured the tea into his cup, her fingers unwavering as she placed it back onto the table. While she stared at Deidara, the shinobi stared at the floor, unable to meet her gaze.

“Why did they want to take your bloodline in the first place?” She asked softly, turning her gaze to her own cup.

Out of the corner of her eye, Deidara shrugged heavily, his fingers examining the intricate ceramic in his hands.

“They wanted to mass make the clay that was produced to make bombs that they could give to all their soldiers, to do so they would have to remove it all from me.”

“And you didn’t want that?”

“It’s art.” He said, raising his gaze and staring back at her, his voice resolute. “It’s mine. No one else would be able to do it justice.”

He is so young, and yet he is so determined.

Kamui hummed, pressing the teacup to her lips as she considered.

“Art is a beautiful and delicate thing.” She eventually stated. “One that is entirely up to the discretion and definition of the artist. If I allowed you into Tea Deidara, what art would you make?”

“Something so beautiful you would never dream of taking it from me.”

So, so determined.

Kamui could barely hold her bright laughter, placing her teacup down onto the table and staring back at him.

“Then, I bid you the warmest welcome to Tea, Deidara.”

She would’ve let him stay no matter what the answer was.

…

Kamui stared out into the open shores of Whirlpool, her many skirts brushing against the sand as she walked, dark eyes gazing over the vast blue ocean before her.

“It’s a beautiful place.” Obito murmured behind her, glancing around him at the restructured buildings slowly rising from the dirt. “Many have expressed a want to return.”

“Many nobles have expressed a want to relocate.” Kamui agreed, her lips tilting upward as she placed a hand into the crystal blue waters that climbed up to meet her on the sand. “I will lose all of my court to these beaches soon enough.”

“Would that truly be the worst thing?”

Kamui could only laugh, turning her head to meet her husbands gaze from where he stood a few paces behind her.

“I suppose not.” She agreed. “Why have you brought me here Obito?”

“One last look into the peace before the citizens return.” He shrugged, stepping forward so that they were shoulder to shoulder. “I have scouts saying you can here them hours before you see them, they sing your praises. The Empress, the Goddess, one rather devout astrologist found out you were born on a full moon and clamed you as a gift from the Rabbit herself.”

“I am many things to Kaguya, though a gift would not be one.”

“It does not fade the adoration that they have for you.”

“It is much easier to control through love after all.” She stated, folding her hands into her sleeves as she stared into the peaceful horizon. “And yet no Uzumaki return.”

“There were very few of them when the village collapsed, you cannot be surprised that there are even fewer now.”

“I live in hope.”

“Besides,” Obito reached inside his yukata, handing her the scroll. “I found something interesting in the archives.”

“The Uzumaki family tree?” Kamui asked, unrolling the scroll carefully so that she could read the very end. “My that’s a lot of inbreeding.”

“Common with clans that size. The Hyuuga or Uchiha haven’t introduced new blood into their main branch for at least five generations.” Obito ignored Kamui’s repulsed look as he pointed to the end. “The scroll is a masterwork of seals, it constantly updates itself with new births and deaths. Which is perfect for us.”

And there, at the very bottom, the ink still fresh, was the name Uzumaki Naruto.

“I cannot promise you it will work.” Obito said as Kamui clutched the scroll tighter, his voice low and serious. “I cannot promise that you will have him, but at least with this we can establish a connection to Whirlpool. He was listed in this scroll before any document was signed within Konoha, which means-”

“He’s a Whirlpool citizen before he is a Fire citizen.” Kamui breathed out in amazement, turning from the scroll to her husband. “It means he is ours. Oh, my darling, thank you so much.”

Obito didn’t even blink as he was tackled into a hug, smiling and placing a soft kiss onto the crown of her head.

“Anything for you.” He murmured into her hair. “Anything.”

…

“Thank you for seeing me at such short notice, Sandaime.” Kamui smiled pleasantly as the door opened. “I heard what had happened to Konoha, and you see, I just couldn’t bear not knowing. It is a tragedy truly, and many are scared for the safety of their own homes.”

“I assure you Empress Kamui, that such a thing will not happen again.” Sarutobi stated flatly, puffing on his pipe as he stared back at her. “It is unusual, that you would make such a journey yourself.”

Underneath her long sleeves, Kamui’s fingers twitched.

Sarutobi was… unnerving to say the least. He didn’t have the bright and obvious charisma of the late Namikaze Minato, nor did he have the dark seriousness of leaders like Nagato. Instead, he seemed perfectly blank. Too still. Too poised. Too emotionless and yet so full if that dreadful ‘Will of Fire.’

A god among shinobi they called him.

It was a wonder the true gods had not cursed him for that.

Kamui’s eyes silently flickered from his aging hands, to the new Hokage hat sat upon his head and to the stack of paperwork next to him, and resisted the urge to smile.

Or perhaps they had.

“I am not alone.” She replied, tilting her head at the elder man with an innocent smile. “My husband does not care for such stiff formalities, he has chosen instead to take in the sights of your wonderful tower. It is truly a miracle that you had it working again in such a small amount of time.”

“The Will of Fire is an amazing thing.” Sarutobi stated vaguely, his eyes never leaving Kamui’s as he puffed on his pipe.

Sarutobi had been past his prime for five years, and it had apparently taken the whole council and the fire daimyo himself begging to put him back in the chair. They hadn’t wanted new blood, they wanted something familiar, something easy so that everything could quietly slip back to normal. So that they could scrub themselves of Namikaze and the incident entirely, quietly pretend that nothing had ever changed.

Yet, the cracks still showed.

Dark eyes drifted to the set of shelves tucked into the left corner of the room, taking in the picture of her husband and his teammates still sitting proudly on the shelves.

“It is certainly something.” Kamui agreed with a soft hum. “Let me offer you my condolences on the death of your successor, Namikaze will be remembered fondly in both of our nations.”

“What do you want Empress?”

Blunt.

Abrasive.

Sarutobi was apparently not in the mood for pleasantries.

Kamui’s fingers twitched once more, her face perfectly neutral to hide her annoyance, though her smile grew ever so slightly tighter.

“I did truly wish to see your progress since the disaster for myself.” She said slowly, drawing out the scroll from her sleeve. “Though, you are right to presume there is another mater that I wish to speak with you, personally. Are you aware that you are harbouring a underage Whirlpool citizen in your social system?”

Sarutobi took the scroll and opened it silently, Kamui taking it as a sign to continue.

“An honest mistake, I’m sure. I can’t imagine the state of your archives at the moment, so much paperwork and yet so little time. The fact remains that a Whirlpool citizen cannot remain in the Fire social system. I wish to take them back with me, have them learn the ways of their ancestors like their parents would have wanted.”

“No.” Sarutobi stated, dropping the scroll back on the desk and returning to his pipe.

“No?” Kamui blinked.

“No. You will not be taking Uzumaki Naruto back with you to Tea.”

“Uzumaki Naruto is a child of Whirlpool, Sandaime.” She hissed, the pleasantness falling from her face. “He is a child of the old gods, of the sealing masters of Whirlpool, and you wish for him to rot away in your terrible care system instead?”

“Naruto is well cared for.”

“Now, let’s not tell lies to each other.” Kamui’s dark eyes narrowed. “Ten hospital appointments for malnutrition, fifteen cases of pneumonia, twenty broken arms within the last month. That’s just the ages two to eight, or would you like me to continue? That orphanage should have no children under its care and yet it finds itself overrun. Forgive me if I’m trying to do you a favour by taking a misplaced one out of your hands.”

Sarutobi slowly put down the pipe, his eyes dark as  they stared at each other.

“We both know why you can’t take Naruto Empress Kamui. Let’s not tell lies to each other.”

“So, your telling me no, just so you can keep your little divine experiment in your own hands. You imprison the great fox and abuse its human avatar, where do you think this will lead Sarutobi?”

“A better place than you, who would free its wrath onto all of us the fist chance you get.”

Kamui’s jaw dropped, staring at Sarutobi in pure shock.

“You really think I would do that after seeing where it has left your village?” She asked slowly, clambering to regain her posture.

Sarutobi had been right, of course. Once, Kamui would’ve freed the nine-tails without question, out of obedience to a goddess she worshipped. However, that was no longer the case. Kaguya remained trapped, and Zetsu had been destroyed.

Kamui didn’t want a weapon, she just wanted her debt to be paid.

Sarutobi was silent.

It was enough of an answer.

“I see.” She nodded slowly. “I’m not a fool Hokage, I know I cannot take him by force, but I do wish you would reconsider. Even just visitation so that he can know his history. Station a guard at all times for all that I care, I have nothing to hide.”

“We will see.” He stated gravelly, Kamui nodding in acquiescence. “Is there anything else you wanted, Empress?”

“I suppose not.” She stated, rising to her feet. “Congratulations of your reinstatement Sarutobi, I shall see myself out.”

The door slammed shut a little harsher than was necessary.

Kamui breathed in slowly, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay as she stared back at the silver haired ninja across from her, likely stationed there to make sure she really did leave.

“Hatake, I presume.” She stated, taking in the silver hair, eyepatch and mask. “You were on Minato’s genin team, he was proud of you.”

“He raised excellent shinobi.” Hatake stated bluntly, not easing from his rigid posture.

Hatake from Minato’s genin team, Hatake the copycat, Hatake that killed Rin, the Hatake that left her husband to die.

Kamui usually had self control, was poised and perfect like a porcelain doll, but she would allow herself this one moment of spite.

“I wonder how he would feel,” she hummed lowly, stepping closer so that she was toe to toe with the shinobi. “Knowing that the excellent shinobi he trained left his only son to suffer in solitude. Do you think he would still be proud of you then?”

Hatake’ s dark eye burned for a moment, his jaw setting behind his mask.

“Mah.” A light drawl echoed from the hallway, a dark gloved hand pulling Kamui back. “Darling, darling, let’s not cause an international incident.”

Obito stood behind her, his black mask covering his whole face except from his singular eye.

“You shouldn’t talk about things you know nothing about.” Hatake growled at her.

“And you,” Obito’s voice had dropped, loosing his carefree persona as Kamui calmly took his arm. “Shouldn’t talk to my wife like that, but I guess we’re all doing things were not meant to right now, hm?”

If they kept this up, Obito would kill him.

Kamui had no doubt about it, feeling the muscles under her fingertips tense as if her husband was preparing to pounce.

Out of every shinobi they could have had stationed there, it just had to be Hatake, didn’t it?

“Tobi.” She said carefully. “I wish to go now.”

“Of course, dear.” Her husband agreed easily, though his gaze remained fixed on the other shinobi.

“Consider it Hatake.” Kamui said vaguely, lightly pushing her husband towards the door so he could use his sharingan to transport them both back to Tea once they were outside the building. “All of our sins catch up to us all eventually.”

Chapter Text

The nightmare came to her with different faces.

Kamui stared into the burning remains of the palace, the expensive oak still smoking, bodies littered across the now burnt remains of her home. She’s barefoot in the midst of the rubble, the dirt clinging to her feet and her nightgown.

She blinked.

It’s no longer Tea, but Konoha. Though, this scene was real. It had carved itself into the deep caverns of her consciousness and had refused to be erased. Every corpse was turned to face her, their eyes wide open and accusing. Everything was the same, the same events playing on a broken loop like a musician that could not recall the next verse. 

Her hands were dripping with blood.

Kamui stared at them hopelessly, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at the beautiful red dripping from her fingertips and soaking into the dirt beneath her. Her eyes burned with the heat of the smoke, the blood smearing on the silk of her nightgown as she stumbled back.

It’s over. She tried to convince herself. It’s done. This isn’t real.

Her back hit a solid figure as she retreated from the scene, hands gripping her shoulders and forcing her to turn around.

It’s Minato.

There are maggots crawling out of his eyes.

Someone was screaming.

It sounded like her.

…

“Kamui.”

Her eyes snapped open to reveal the worried scarred face of her husband.

“Darling.” Obito breathed, gently lifting her so she could sit up. “Darling, you were screaming.”

Her breath was hoarse and her cheeks were damp as she lifted a hand to scrub at her eyes.

“It’s just a stupid nightmare.” She breathed out, her hand falling heavily onto her lap. “Nothing more.”

“Perhaps.” Her husband agreed lowly, the sun not even risen outside her window. “But that does not take away the pain it causes you.”

“Since when were you wise?”

“Must be something in the air. Careful, it’s likely to be contagious.”

Kamui snickered lowly at that, leaning with her back against the headboard, turning to look at him properly.

“You should be asleep.”

Obito sighed heavily, still dressed in a silk black dressing gown, his sword hastily strapped to his side.

“You were screaming. I thought you were being attacked.”

“I have staff,” she pointed out calmly. “Someone would’ve noticed if I was being attacked.”

“Your staff sleep like the dead, and even the kitchen wont be up for another two hours.”

 She only hummed in agreement, her eyes flickering to the window once more.

“Does it ever get better?” She asked, curling her knees towards her chest, the blanket tightening in her grip.

“Do you want the honest answer, or the comforting one?” Obito asked in reply, placing his sword on the floor and falling backwards onto the bed.

“The honest one.” She answered, resting her chin on her knees and watching him carefully. “Always the honest one.”

“No.” He said bluntly. “It doesn’t get better. You just grow around it instead, get used to it to the point where it doesn’t hurt so much, but it will always hurt.”

“That’s awful.” She muttered, lowering her eyes and picking at her nails.

“That’s living I’m afraid, darling.” He stated lowly, a tired hand reaching up to rub her shoulder. “That’s surviving.”

There were no words capable of fully expressing her horror at the sentiment so Kamui remained silent, staring aimlessly at her own hands.

“We will never be allowed Naruto.” She stated instead with a heavy sigh. “Konoha will never allow us, nor will they ever see reason.”

“Not all of our Uzumaki’s are a dead end.” Obito said, his eyes closed as he sank further into the mattress.

“We have a personal debt, Obito.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He asked, his eyes snapping open and his single eye rolling to face her. “It may be true Kamui, but what are you going to do to convince them of that? It’s not like we can stroll in and admit we caused everything, they suspect us of that much already. We don’t have anything to hold over their heads to make them do it either.”

“Then find something.”

“We’re trying Kamui.” Her husband stated, softly tugging on her arm, causing her to fall next to him on the bed, her head bouncing on the pillow as she stared at him. “It’s still early, go back to sleep darling.”

“You’ll try?” Kamui muttered, half of her face hidden by the pillow.

“We’ll try, darling, sometimes that’s all we can do.”

…

She rose to her feet, her husband an ever-present shadow as she politely moved between prideful parents and noble sponsors as everyone marvelled at the new shinobi classroom. It had been stationed a twenty minutes walk from the palace, Kisame wanting to take advantage of the open space and nearby mountains for training. A total of eight children ages five to ten had been inducted as the schools first class, Kisame happily talking about taking in another class and alternating days between the two. They would need more teachers soon enough if Kisame’s promise of expansion was to be  true.

“Lord Tao,” She greeted politely, moving to stand on the other side of Kisame, who had began to look increasingly cornered over the last fifteen minutes. “I see you are rather keen about our new establishment. I must personally thank you for the money you put towards it. Tea will be secure and protected for generations to come.”

Lord Tao was from one of the noble families to the south of Tea, short and slightly fat from his days of luxury and lounging in the sun next to the ocean. However, he was a common figure in court and his fascination with shinobi had led him to eagerly donate thousands to the building of a new shinobi school.

“Yes. Yes.” Lord Tao nodded enthusiastically. “Whoever knew? A ninja force of our own in Tea, not a single need to pay for foreign forces. The thanks must be extended to you Empress, without your keen wisdom we would have never considered such a thing.”

“You flatter me Lord Tao.” She smiled, bowing her head humbly. “I’m sure anyone with the resources I have would have came to the same conclusion. I live only to complete the promises I have made to my people.”

“An angel you are. A goddess truly.” Lord Tao flattered bowing deeply to her. “If you ever consider expanding your marriage into a harem, a have a son the same age as you, and I’m sure he will gladly submit himself to any needs you have. Any needs at all.”

Behind her she could feel Obito stiffen, a gloved hand reaching for the sword at his side while next to them Kisame looked as if he was genuinely considering if living in Tea was worth it.

Whatever obsession the court seemed to have with her sexual life, Kamui was quickly tiring of it. Over the past two weeks there had been a total of thirty thinly veiled suggestions of heirs and propositions to help her husbands infertility. Though, the accusations of infertility were likely only pointed at her husband since calling the Empress of a golden age infertile was incredibly taboo.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have asked for the heirs crib to be placed in her room, it was what seemed to start this whole mess.

The curse of hindsight.

“I am very happy with my husband, Lord Tao.” She smiled politely, Obito staring down the shorter lord from her left. “In fact, at the mention of spouses, it seems your wife has had a bit too much celebratory wine, why don’t you go and help her?”

Lord Tao was foolish but he was not stupid, recognising a dismissal when he saw one as he waddled off obediently.

“He was… friendly.” Kisame stated, sounding slightly struck for words.

“I’d be careful of him.” Kamui hummed lowly. “Lord Tao… has a certain taste for shinobi in their prime.”

“What?” Kisame blinked, looking even more confused than before.

“He likes to have sex with shinobi.” Obito muttered lowly, just loud enough for only her and Kisame to hear. “Or, at the very least, the fantasy of a shinobi. He pays the night women double if they dress up and pretend.”

“It’s why his wife drinks so much.” Kamui nodded, folding her hands beneath the log red sleeves of her kimono. “She is disappointed that the life of a noble lady wife isn’t everything her mother had promised her.”

“Civilians are odd.” Kisame blinked, looking at a complete loss for words.

“I wouldn’t consider it too much.” She waved off, taking in the padded floor beneath her and the knives lining the wall. “Are you excited to begin Kisame?”

“Of course ma’am.” Kisame straightened, sharp teeth gleaming in the light. “I can never find the words to fully express my appreciation for your generosity. I assume my lesson plan has been fully approved?”

“They will not graduate until they are fifteen correct?”

“Yes ma’am. As the children get younger and our screening process gets easier, I can lower the graduation age to the customary twelve if that is what you desire?”

“No.” She grimaced in distaste at the idea. “Keep it at fifteen, I don’t care how much of a prodigy they seem to be, no one is graduating before fifteen. We do not condone children going into battle, we want to nurture mentally stable and intelligent shinobi, not egomaniacal ones with a loyalty complex. We’re not Konoha.”

“Of course ma’am.” Kisame nodded happily, Kamui smiling up at him happily.

“Congratulations on your official appointment Kisame.” She stated. “And please stop calling me ma’am. I’m not that old just yet.”

…

“Hello Kaina.” Kamui smiled pleasantly, taking her seat behind the desk, watching as the woman fidgeted awkwardly in her seat. “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, the academy’s opening ran a little later than I thought.”

“It’s perfectly fine Empress,” Kaina rushed out politely, tucking her vibrant red hair behind her ears nervously. “The border guards stated that you wished to see me?”

“Yes.” Kamui smiled. “We sent out invitations to all the remaining Uzumaki, and yet the number is so small for such a great clan. Our information shows you were close to the main branch?”

“Yes, Empress. My father was the youngest brother of the clan heir.” Kaina nodded, bouncing the two year old puft of red that was strapped to her chest. “When Uzushio fell, so many people perished, and I believe even more perished when we were turned into refugees, with the death of Princess Kushina many of us have lost hope for us all.”

 “You mentioned to the immigration office that you feared for your life Kanai? That you wished to speak with me personally, why was that?”

“I did not think you would accept my request Empress.” Kaina said, bowing her head and a deep embarrassed blush flushing across her cheeks. “But, you see, it’s about my daughter Karin.”

“Karin?” Kamui’s eyes rested on the sleeping two year old resting on her mothers chest.

“Uzumaki children are going missing.” The frightened mother rushed out, her eyes wide and pleading. “They say that a snake steals them from their bed and they turn up again in a ditch, weeks or even months later. Empress, I cannot begin to describe to you the wounds they have, a thousand needle pricks a million bruises all on their tiny bodies.”

“That’s awful.” She frowned, shuddering slightly at the mental image that came with Kaina’s description. “But I personally assure you, Tea and Whirlpool are completely safe, no one is going to take your daughter.”

“But they will ma’am.” Kaina was beginning to tremble, her blue eyes leaking with tears as she held her daughter even tighter. “A man with dark hair saw what Karin could do, and he came up to me and offered to buy her. I ran from the bandits and shinobi he sent after me and hid within the main travelling party so they wouldn’t attack me without drawing attention to themselves. I have not rested once on the journey for fear they would snatch her from my hands in my sleep. They have followed us here, I am certain of it.”

Staring at the hysterical woman, Kamui felt her brows furrow in confusion, dark eyes flickering between mother and daughter.

“Kaina.” She pressed lightly, watching the woman sniffle and hurriedly wipe away her tears. “What exactly can your daughter do?”

“I will show you.” The mother nodded jerkily bringing a knife from her pocket, and angling the sharp silver blade towards her own arm.

“Kaina?” Kamui hissed, raising quickly from her desk as the other woman set the knife deeply into her own skin. “Kaina, no! Guards! I need a doctor in here, quickly!”

“There’s no need for that ma’am.” Kaina sniffled, drawing the knife back and turning closer to her daughter.

Watching in horror, Kamui stood there as Kaina lightly bit into her daughters own flesh. The woman drawing back quickly all the while murmuring soft apologies to her now awake and squirming daughter. 

“This is what Karin can do.” Kaina said, showing the arm she had so savagely cut into just moments before. “I can do it also, I was a healer back in Kusagakure. But they don’t want me for their experiments, they want her, You must understand, you must help us. They will take any opportunity to take her. To finish whatever experiment they are trying to do.”

Standing completely still, Kamui continued to watch in horror as the flesh slowly knitted itself back together before her eyes. The vein still calmly pumping blood and completely unmarred skin covering it as she stood there and blinked in disbelief.

“It’s okay, Kaina.” She stated bending down to place a gentle hand on the sobbing woman’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I promise you, it’s going to be okay. You’re safe here.”

…

“What makes them so different to any other clan?” Kisame asked, frowning as he leaned forward.

“Karin and Kaina can heal anyone with a single bite.” She sighed, shuffling through the citizenship papers and frowning at the medical report. “Expansive chakra reserves, predisposition to chakra chains, the list goes on.”

“They’re certainly interesting.” Sasori agreed, turning to Kamui with wide, pleading eyes. “Are you sure I can’t run just a few tests?”

“No.” Kamui said sternly. “I’m not going to let you strap them down and experiment on them. They are running from the possibility of experimentation Sasori, not towards it. Besides, no sensible leader is going to openly experiment on their subjects.”

“You should see what that freak Orochimaru is doing.” Hidan scoffed, Obito turning to him with raised eyebrows while Kamui paused, slowly putting down the paper she was holding.

She had heard that name before.

Where has she heard that name before?

“What is Orochimaru doing?” Obito pressed calmly.

“Some freaky shit.” Hidan continued casually, his open shirt tightening around his shoulders as he stretched like an overly spoiled cat in his seat. “Completely messing with the natural balance of life and death. Jashin ain’t happy, I can tell you that much.”

“Orochimaru’s… doing what?” Deidara blinked, turning in his seat as everyone started to stare at Hidan.

“Messing with the balance.” Hidan repeated, looking around in confusion at all their blank faces. “Experiments, shifting bodies, preventing death… freaky shit, you know? Wait.” Hidan shifted in his seat, leaning forward as everyone stared at him. “I thought this was general knowledge, you guys didn’t know?”

“Orochimaru, the same Orochimaru from the Hokage’s genin team, is using human experimentation to cheat death?” Obito repeated slowly, forcing the words out as if he couldn’t quite believe them. “And, according to you, this is general knowledge?”

“Yeah.” Hidan nodded, Deidara and Sasori exchanging a look of pure disbelief. “That’s what I just said. I thought you were meant to be the smart one?”

“Isn’t Orochimaru the leader of Sound?” Kamui spoke up, her eyebrows furrowed and her head tilted as she glanced between the two.

“Dark hair, really pale, quite tall?” Obito listed off, turning on his heel to face his wife. “Looks like a snake?”

“He sent me a very nice congratulations message when the Sound civil war was over.” Kamui stated, her hands flat on the desk. “He took over Sound officially around last year.”

“You knew Orochimaru was in Sound this whole time.” Obito breathed out, disbelief etching itself onto his features.

“How was I meant to know he was a ninja?” Kamui defended. “Or the Hokage’s genin? I don’t exactly keep up with shinobi politics darling.”

“That’s exactly why he doesn’t bother hiding from you.” Her husband stated. “Because you have no idea who he is.”

“He’s using human experiments?” She asked, turning to face Hidan.

“Was doing it under the Hokage’s nose in Konoha, but moved to sound once Namikaze was instated. Rumour has it that the senile Sandaime knew what his precious apprentice was doing the entire time.”

Well, this certainly changed things.

Kamui leaned back in her seat, her eyes settling on her husband as he turned to her.

“Whatever you’re thinking, just make sure it doesn’t involve me nearly being stepped on by a giant chakra demon. Again.” Sasori warned, leaning back in his seat with a groan while Deidara turned to him, the blonde’s mouth hanging open In pure shock.

Leaning forward, her elbows resting on the fine oak of her desk, Kamui smiled back at him innocently.

“How do you feel about dismantling Orochimaru’s little human experimentation ring?”

Chapter Text

There is no covert break in, no carefully planned abduction, no silent murder in the night.

After all, they decide amongst themselves, you cannot kill a snake from within its own den. It is bad taste after all, to kill a man in his own home, and they had more class and elegance than to do such a thing.

Instead, they lure Orochimaru to them.

Pride and greed made all men blind, but Kamui was not a man.

This is what the empress considered as she carefully arranged her the skirt of her kimono, staring at the door ahead of her, waiting for Orochimaru to arrive.

“Kaina and Karin…” She trailed off, her eyes drifting to her husband.

“Protected by guards at the only entrance.” Obito stated, his back mask fixed onto his face, a single black eye not moving from the door. “It’ll be okay Kamui, just stick to the plan.” He shifted slightly, his hand folding behind his back. “He’s here.”

Kamui straightened as well, folding her hands in front of her and smiling brightly as the door opened.

“Daimyo Orochimaru.” She smiled brightly, as the tall and pale man ducked into the room. “A pleasure of you to join us. Come, sit with me for tea. It would be a shame to travel all this way and not indulge yourself in what we are famous for.”

“Empress Kamui.” Orochimaru smiled, his teeth slightly too sharp to be natural. “Nothing would please me more.”

“My husband, Tobi.” She introduced, Obito inclining his head in greeting. “Shall we sit?”

“I was hoping for a private meeting Empress.” Orochimaru said, his smile tightening around the edges.

“Of course.” Kamui agreed easily, Obito slipping out of the room, followed by several of Orochimaru’s entourage, the door clicking shut behind them. “Please, sit.”

Kamui sat down on the opposite side of the low table, pouring the prepared green tea into both of their cups, Orochimaru taking a sip of his while Kamui’s hands remained folded in her lap.

“Can I ask you a question?” She started slowly, watching carefully as Orochimaru calmly placed down his drink.

“Of course.”

“Why am I the only ruler aware of your control over Sound?”

“Can I ask you a question?” Orochimaru asked, calmly repeating her own words back to her.

“Of course.” She replied, repeating his own words back to him.

“Why is this tea poisoned?” Orochimaru asked, a claw like nail pointing to the cup he just drank out of, deceptively calm while Kamui’s hands began to tremble with horror.

Orochimaru stared.

Kamui stared back.

And then everything moved at once.

Kamui used the table to throw herself back, kicking the low oak into Orochimaru’s stomach. With wide eyes, she watched him catch the table with one hand, cocking his head at an unnatural angle as he considered her.

“Obito!” Kamui screamed, her voice choking as she swung her head to stare at the door. “Guards! Obito!”

Kamui is an Empress, not a fighter.

“Ah, so that’s your darling little husbands real name.” Orochimaru hissed, slinking forwards while Kamui crawled back, the heel of her hands catching on the fabric as she tried to move away quicker than Orochimaru could advance on her. “I was wondering why I could find no record of him anywhere. No matter. I’m afraid he’s a bit busy with my own people at the moment, little empress.”

“Stay away from my husband.” She bit out, her back hitting the wall while Orochimaru stopped over her, a sharp smile tugging at his lips.

“How cute.” He cooed, a clawed hand reaching out to hold onto her jaw. “Ah, young love. Tell me, will you still love him when I turn him into a rabid dog whose only purpose is to tear you apart?”

Kamui’s mouth opened, shock colouring her features for a brief moment before she clenched her jaw, squaring her shoulders and glaring back at him while he hummed lowly and patted her cheek condescendingly.

“That’s what I thought.” He whispered, leaning close and their noses brushing as they continued to stare at each other. “You’d be a good pet, wouldn’t you? Without your guard dog, you’ve got no bite to you. Like a snake drained of all its venom. The bite would still hurt of course, but nothing more of an inconvenience, and, after all, everything can be trained not to bite.”

A pet.

A pet.

“Why all the experiments?” Kamui said, her hand slowly moving to rest behind her. “If you’re going to make me one then you might as well tell me.”

“So, you knew about that.” Orochimaru nodded thoughtfully. “A clever pet, I did wonder why you were trying to poison me. Alas, it seems my plan to destroy you was better than your plan to destroy me. To answer your question: for evolution, pet. You see, I’m already more evolved than you, chakra makes me better than you in every way. Just look how powerless you are against me.” Hidden behind her back, Kamui’s hand slowly started to rise. “But I don’t want to just be more evolved than you, I want to be more evolved than everyone. I want to live forever”

“You want to be a god.” Kamui stated with a dark sneer. “You’re a fool, no man can ever make himself a god.”

“I am much  more than just a man.” He grinned, his teeth parting to reveal his snake tongue.

Kamui only hummed, her hand moving as quick as a flash as she pulled out her hair pin, ink black hair tumbling over her shoulders as she lunged forward, pushing the metallic pin into Orochimaru’s neck. The ninja was so fascinated with his own self worth that he didn’t stop her moving until it was too late.

Blood splattered across Kamui’s fingers and cheeks as she ripped the hair pin back out, rolling out from under him as he recoiled in pain. Staggering to her feet, her hair pin still gripped in her hand, the emeralds and diamonds now the same shade as the rubies.

“I’m well versed in disappointing gods.” She breathed out, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she glared back at the glaring man, stumbling backwards towards the door, ink hair falling into her vision. “Don’t take it personally.”

Orochimaru snarled, an utterly inhuman sound, as he brought his hand away from the room, standing to his full height and silently watching as Kamui pulled helplessly at the door, her dark eyes wide in horror as the door failed to move.

“Did you really think I was stupid enough to leave the door unlocked?” He said flatly, a high pitch scream filling the room as he dragged her back, ruthlessly pulling the pin from her grip, scarlet blood dripping onto her face as he towered over her, long hands wrapping around her throat even as she kicked and swiped at him.

This is how I die. Kamui realised, her vision fading at the edges, her kicks becoming weaker and sporadic. This is how a dynasty ends.

Her head slumped back, eyes drifting shut.

And then there was air, the pressure around her throat vanishing in a second.

She shot up, gasping for air as someone else grabbed for her, muscled arms wrapping around her shoulders and lifting her to her feet.

Obito stood over Orochimaru, blood covering his face, his yukata discarded and rips running through his shirt and trousers. His mask was off, his red eye spinning with power as he slammed the snake into the wall.

“Stay away from my wife.” He snarled, Hidan spinning his scythe in his hand from where he stood next to him.

“Ma’am.” Deidara started, holding her tighter as she wobbled on unsteady feet. “Kamui, we need to move, we’re not safe here.”

She nodded, her vision still blurred as Deidara helped her out of the room, the blonde barking orders at the guards. As soon as she passed the doorway, a barrier seemed to break, the noise of shouting and fighting filling her eyes as she staggered along side Deidara.

“Ma’am.” He said uncertainly. “Can you walk? You look pale?”

Kamui swayed on her own feet, staggering on the spot and clinging to his shoulder.

“How many of us are dead?” She breathed.

“None of the Akatsuki,” he answered diligently. “At least two dozen of the guard, a couple of staff.”

“Kamui.” A voice called out, Kisame pushing through the crowd, deflecting and attack by a Sound ninja by trapping him in a bubble of water and leaving him to drown. “Kamui. What should we do?”

Several of the armed guards turned towards the three, brandishing their bloody swords while they waited for an answer from their ruler.

Orochimaru came into her home and attempted to kill her, wanted to keep her as a pet for his own desires. He wouldn’t be the first, whatever example she made here would set the precedent for everyone who ever considered outright attacking her palace again.

“Get the people to safety.” She breathed out, still swaying even as Deidara kept a firm grip on her elbows. “And Kisame?”

“Yes ma’am?”

Orochimaru had wanted her as a pet, and Kamui was nothing if not bitter and vindictive.

“Kill them all.”

…

When it was over, Kamui stood in a barren field, staring at the dead bodies that they piled onto the pyre several miles outside of the city walls.

The staff and court had hid in the bunker, Kaina sat next to Kamui, a crying Karin held tightly in her arms. While her people trembled in fear, Kamui stared at the door, the kunai Deidara had hurriedly gifted her before he left gripped tight in her hand. If anyone came through that door, they would’ve had to deal with her first.

They had lost nearly sixty guards, a half of their work force, and the ones that remained were all injured. However, Orochimaru had been arrogant, believing that he only needed seventy ninjas plus himself for a full-scale invasion. Perhaps it was because that was all the ninja that Orochimaru had that were loyal to him, their minds bent by propaganda and experiments.

Orochimaru believed that he could destroy them, the arrogance of Fire still burning through him. Instead, they had destroyed him.

Well, the Akatsuki did.

Obito stood to her left, his arms folded, and his face still splashed with blood as he stared into the fire. Apparently, it had taken Obito ripping out his heart to finally make Orochimaru stop fighting. Sasori knelt to her right, examining a few of the bodies he had saved from the burning pyre, judging them for their uses as puppets.

“He could’ve killed us.” Kamui spat out, her usual purring upper court accent replaced with a deep scratching sound and a low-class accent due to the damage done to her, hand shaped bruises and fingernail marks already blooming on her pale throat.

“He could’ve killed you certainly, but not us.” Sasori remarked calmly, indicating to the rather green looking guard that he wanted the body in front of him dragged to the fire.

“Sasori.” Obito warned coldly, finally turning away from the fire as Kamui stifled a choked laugh.

“It’s an honest observation.”

“What are we going to do about Sound?” Kamui asked, watching the guards deposit Orochimaru’s still corpse at Sasori’s feet.

“Deidara and Hidan will go at sunrise.” Obito explained, tilting to kick at the corpse for good measure. “Since Hidan knows where it is, they’ll use Deidara’s gift to bomb the experimentation base to the ground. Of course, then there’s the matter of rulership.”

“Right of conquest.” Sasori supplied, examining the seals on Orochimaru’s upper arm.

“It was called Rice before Orochimaru named it Sound.” Kamui hummed, grimacing with distaste at Sasori. “I’m sure all the map makers will hate us, but the Empire of Tea, Whirlpool and Rice has a much better ring to it.”

“Fire wont like us being so close to their borders.” Obito argued.

“They’ll have to cope with it, the land is now ours.” Kamui shrugged. “Sasori, you can’t keep him as a puppet.”

“Why not?”

Kamui clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, sharing a dark look with her husband.

“I’m going to need his head.”

…

“Sandaime.” Kamui smiled, as she strode into the Hokage’s office, the bruises around her throat now dulling to a yellow and green. “So nice of you to send a welcoming letter as your new neighbour. I hope our trade agreements can be just as prosperous.”

“And only our trade agreements.” Sarutobi grumbled into his pipe, staring back at her blankly. “Which I am glad to see are finalised.”

“I am nothing if not fair.” Kamui smiled sweetly. “Do you mind if I bring my husband in? I have a lovely gift for you, to symbolise our new and developed friendship,”

“There is no need for gifts Empress Kamui, we both live to serve our people after all.”

“Nonsense.” Kamui waved off, the stationed guard opening the door after a small nod from Sarutobi. “What is a small gift between friends?”

Kamui took a seat on the opposite side of the Hokage’s desk, her smile still gentle as Obito calmly placed the storage seal on the desk and quietly sitting down next to her without a word.

“Before you open it, I would very much like you to reconsider you judgement on our discussion the last time I was here.” She stated, crossing her ankles as Sarutobi huffed at his pipe, completely unimpressed with her joyful act.

“Were you not attacked in your own palace last month Kamui?” The Sandaime pressed lightly. “What kind of an environment is that for a child?”

Kamui’s fingers twitched at that, her smile vanishing from her face.

“Well, I can’t exactly say Konoha is the safest place for a child either, not with the type of shinobi you churn out.”

 “Why don’t you just look in the scroll?” Obito offered, his one black eye bright behind his mask as he leaned back, the humour clear in his voice.

Sarutobi obliged, tapping his finger on the scroll to release the object from the chakra seal.

Sarutobi stared.

The brutally severed head of his student Orochimaru stared back with unseeing eyes.

The pipe clattered to the floor as it fell from Sarutobi’s gaping mouth, two ninja instantly appearing at his side, the hands already fixed on their weapons.

“What is this?” Sarutobi thundered, rising from his chair to glare them down, the ninja on either side of him poised to strike.

“Well, I thought it was very clear what this is, didn’t you darling?” Obito hummed, turning to face his wife.

“Frankly, I did as well.” Kamui nodded back at him before turning to Sarutobi. “Quite obviously, this an ultimatum.”

“I could kill you right now for this.” Sarutobi stressed, his eyes tearing themselves away from the dismembered head.

“I’d love to see you try, you old bastard.” A deep voice swore at Kamui’s left, Hidan hovering just behind her shoulder, Deidara on the other side of Obito, mimicking the fire shinobi’s stances.

“Let’s be civil.” Kamui sighed, raising her hand as a symbol of peace, Deidara and Hidan relaxing behind them but not leaving their posts. “It’s quite simple Sarutobi. I’ve done you a great favour by keeping it quiet thus far. How do you think people would react when they heard that their own beloved Hokage’s student was experimenting on their children, stealing them away in the night? If we do not leave this room, I have set up an arrangement with my people so that every news source, and every daimyo across the nation will know. They’ll be evidence, there will be details and there would be nothing to save you from the wrath of the people. Your shinobi may protect you, but how many? For how long, when you become the top on every single shinobi’s hit list?”

“I knew nothing of this.”

“Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t.” Kamui shrugged, watching the two shinobi next to the Hokage glance at each other nervously. “In the end, do you think it would really matter? Orochimaru attacked me, attacked my people with the intent to experiment on us for his sole gain. With just that alone, I could gather every single daimyo and Kage around you to rid you of your position, of every morsel of respect you have ever gained in your sad, pathetic life. Will the Will of Fire help you then?”

Kamui rose to her feet as Sarutobi slowly lowered back into his chair.

“But with one thing, this all could never happen, we can pretend that neither of us know what we know, and you can keep living as comfortably as you can while the guilt of what you have done, what you turned a blind eye too, slowly consumes you alive. They will light candles, deeply mourn your death, and will never know the truth that all of us now know. I just need one thing from you.”

“You can’t take him.” Sarutobi said, his voice strangled and his face ashen, looking as if he had aged another decade in the space of ten minutes.

“Oh, I know I can’t, that’s far too risky.” Kamui waved off. “All I ask is twice a month you turn a blind eye, just as you did with our darling Orochimaru. You will not question or retaliate when he goes missing for a sporadic weekend, you will not stop us from coming or going as we please. We will be a ghost in the night, and you get to keep your shame to yourself. Understand, I am being merciful here Sarutobi.” No longer called by his title, the man in front of her does not have her respect after what he had let happen. “We killed one of your Sanin, one of your very best, what else do you think we can do if provoked?”

Kamui sat back down in her chair, folding her ankles and smiling innocently at him.

“So, do we have a deal?”

Chapter Text

There is a goddess that visits Uzumaki Naruto twice every month.

Once when the moon is full, and once when there is no moon to be seen anywhere in the sky. She has been visiting for as long as he can remember, appearing with a soft smile, and a sharp glance at the mean matron as she takes him on a walk outside of the orphanage.

“Are you Kaa-san?” He asked once he was old enough to properly form the syllables to the question that had been bothering him for years.

He’s only two, his legs barely long enough to dangle over the edge of the large booth she had situated them in. Staring at the diamonds and rubies on her fingers and the way they caught the light, rainbows reflecting onto the cheap table as she wiped his mouth free of broth.

“No, I am not.” She answered in that peculiar way she always seemed to talk. So different from the matrons and the other people that shouted at him. They were harsh, their syllables pronounced clearly but short. Instead, she spoke in a purringly soft tone, her syllables dragged, and her voice always measured.

Naruto had tried to imitate her in the mirror once, but the other children had shoved him and said that he had sounded stupid, so he hadn’t tried it again.

“Why?” He pressed.

Other children in his classes had mothers, why couldn’t he?

“Your Okaa-san was a brilliant and powerful woman.” She answered clearly. “And she loved you dearly, I would not dream for one second to take her position away from her. I owe her a great debt. That is why I look after you when I can.”

“Why not stay?” He insisted, holding tightly onto her fingers as she helped him out of the booth, lifting him up in her arms, his chin resting on her shoulder. “I want you to stay.”

The matrons aren’t soft and warm like her, they take away the soft foxes that she brings occasionally and let the other children tear them apart. He wants to stay with her. He wants to keep the foxes.

“Oh, little godling…” She trailed off, calling him the same nickname she always had. “If it were up to me then that would be the way these things go.”

He wants to question that, keep pushing her with his questions. However, the matron had hit his head roughly when she said he was being ungrateful and persistent, so he stays silent.

“Who are you then?”

He asks one more question, because she is soft and fair unlike the matron.

“My name is Kamui.” She said, the fingers in his hair lulling him to sleep. “You may call me as such.”

Kamui is a goddess as she disappears every morning, and the children refuse to believe that she exists, and the matrons avoid questions about her like the mere mention of her name is cursed.

…

There is one more reason to why he believed Kamui-nee was a goddess.

When he is three, the matron kicks him out to wander the streets, commanding that he does not show his face again until dinner.

He doesn’t mind, even if the villagers don’t like him that much either.

Today, there was a travelling merchant group in town, bringing in their wares for all over the nations, from Sand to Iron and even the distant Empire he had heard very little about.

It is nice there, the merchants do not know him, so they do not shoo him away or yell at him for touching things. In fact, several of them ask him where his parents are and when he replies he lives in the orphanage, the grow remarkably quiet and tell him to stay as long as he likes.

He is only three years old.

Stopping at another merchants stall, his eyes land on a statue of a woman sat in the back of the rows of artefacts. It was smile, only slightly larger than the teacups it sat above. Made of something similar to the china plates Kamui would sometimes bring him food on. The woman’s eyes were closed, her hands clasped together, and her body completely covered with a delicate red painted cloth. Upon her head, a gold crown sat with a crescent moon carved into it.

“Ah, another man entranced by her whiles.” The merchant joked, peering down at the young boy looking at the statue. “I’m afraid that ones not for sale lad, my own personal object to bring me luck.”

“Who is it?”

It looks like his sister, the statue looked as if it had been modelled to resemble Kamui.

“She goes by many names and people have many theories.” The merchant answered, happily smiling at his good luck charm. “But I will tell you the true one lad. This is the goddess of the moon, and a ruler in Tea where I have travelled through many times. This is only a fraction of her beauty, there are stories of men collapsing to their knees just at the sight of her. She was once called Kaguya, but she goes by a different name now, gifting us all with prosperity and luck that no mortal could ever accomplish.”

“What name?”

He’s tripping over his words, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to remember all the correct way the sentences should be said, just like Kamui-nee had taught him.

“They call her Kamui.”

…

“Are you a god?” He asks her.

“I am better.” She grinned sharply. “I am an Empress.”

…

Most of the time, Kamui is accompanied by her shadow.

“My husband.” She would always correct him with a small laugh. “Godling, Obito is my husband.”

They do not sit cuddled together like in some of the romantic pictures he’s seen on posters or books he’s not allowed to read. The couples on them always glued together from shoulder to ankle, sharing a milkshake or something stupid like that. Who would want to share a milkshake? Instead, Kamui and Obito always seemed to keep some distance between them, only touching to guide the other or when they are talking about something he is not allowed to listen to. Obito tends to guide Kamui by her elbow, pulling her gently in the right direction, while Kamui had a strange habit of resting her palm on his shoulder blade whenever he was speaking.

Obito’s singular eye followed Kamui everywhere, able to predict what she wanted before she ever said anything. Like the time Kamui had frowned slightly at the matron when she learnt Naruto was not allowed to eat with the other children, Obito had taken the woman aside while Kamui and him got something to eat.

The next morning, he was suddenly allowed to eat with everyone else.

Unlike Kamui, who was always dressed in layers of red, gold and white, Obito only ever wore black. His clothes simple and practical while Kamui was always extravagant. He always wore a black mask when they were outside, but when they were sat alone, he pulled it off to reveal a black eyepatch on his right eye and white scars covering the left hand of his face.

“Wow!” Naruto shouted, being four years old and thinking that battle scars were the coolest thing ever. Immediately tugging on Obito’s hand until the man kneeled down to his level. “Are you a ninja? Are you? Are you? I’m gonna be a ninja one day as well and I’m gonna look just as cool as you.”

A strange look crossed Obito’s face, his one eye widening as he quickly glanced from Naruto to Kamui behind him, looking as if he had completely forgot the ability to speak.

“Yeah, sure kid.” Obito nodded, sounding like one of the ninjas he had kicked in the face while pranking a couple of days prior. That kind of strangled sound of pure disbelief. “You’re going to be the coolest.”

Naruto puffed it, a brig grin spreading across his face as he stared up at the coolest person he knew (don’t tell Kamui-nee). Someone else believed he was going to be the coolest ninja ever so now it had  to happen.

…

When he applies for the academy, it is Obito that accompanies him, the mask fixed onto his face once more. It is Obito that sits down with the teachers and admin, questioning them with words a details Naruto doesn’t understand but pretends too. It is Obito that sat down and signed his name on all the paperwork that was needed.

“Don’t tell Kamui.” He whispered to him. “She wants to hold out a couple more years, but this isn’t Tea. If you don’t sign up and start now, you’re going to get left behind.”

“But you name isn’t-” Naruto started, frowning at the letters Obito had printed onto the paperwork.

“Let’s go get an early start, yeah?” He interrupted quickly, hurriedly placing the paperwork on the desk and grabbing Naruto’s hand to escort him out.

Obito took them to an empty training field, handing a practice shuriken to him and pointing towards the target.

“But I don’t wanna do the boring stuff.” Naruto frowned, staring at the practice weapon in his arm. “I want to blow fire and disappear like I’ve seen you do.”

“Eventually.” Obito chuckled, ruffling his hair and positioning him straight with the target. “But first, we’ve got to make sure you can aim.”

It turns out, Naruto cannot aim.

But he can learn.

He has a good teacher.

…

Rarely, when Kamui cannot join him, she sends members of her personal ANBU to check on him.

“Akatsuki.” Sasori grunted, Naruto marvelling at how the colour of his hair matched the red clouds on the uniform. “We’re the Akatsuki.”

He likes Sasori the least.

Kisame is sent the most, the shark man nodding and adjusting his stance as Naruto excitedly demonstrates what he has learnt at the academy. No one bothers them when he goes to the park with Kisame, the parents taking one look at the towering shark that has replaced Naruto’s shadow and quickly close their mouths.

However, Hidan is his favourite.

“Godling!” The man would cheer, when they went to the park, in the same respectful tone Kamui would speak in. “I heard this kid was mean to you, shall we sacrifice him to Jashin in your name?”

The boy Hidan was holding by the collar had pushed him down and kicked him when he last went to the park by himself.

(Naruto didn’t go to the park by himself anymore)

It takes everything in him to tell Hidan no, and only because Kamui would be dismayed with his lack of manners.

…

Kamui and her Akatsuki are not there to protect him always, she has an empire to run after all.

So, when he is kicked out of the orphanage at the age of five, he’s an academy student now, nearly an adult, he can look after himself, Kamui-nee finds him balancing in front of the stove a week later, horror filling her face.

“Do not ever do that again.” She said sternly, Naruto shuffling his feet awkwardly as Obito stood a few feet away, looking around curiously. “You- oh gods, you’ve burnt yourself!”

“They heal quickly.” He grumbled, wiggling his fingers as the blisters slowly faded. “See? Kamui-nee, you’re being dramatic.”

“Dramatic.” Kamui murmured to herself, a small cough sounding from Obito as he turned away from them both.

He was probably ill, there was a cold going round.

“Who sent you here, kid?” Obito eventually asked, Kamui dropping her hand when the burns had completely healed, a strange look passing through her eyes.

“The Hokage.” Naruto grinned, puffing his chest with pride, bright blue eyes sparkling up at the two rulers. “He likes to meet with me from time to time! I’m gonna take his position one day, dattebayo!”

“Sarutobi lets you live on your own?” Kamui asked, an arched eyebrow raising higher on her face. “With no adult supervision? At five years old?”

“I’m nearly six. That’s basically an adult, dattebayo.”

“Oh gods.” Kamui murmured just loud enough for him to hear. Naruto stepped forward slowly, his eyebrows furrowed as he pulled on her sleeve.

“Are you sick, Kamui-nee? You don’t look so good.”

“I’ll be fine after we’ve fixed this.” She replied, exchanging a sharp look with Obito and turning on her heel.

“She’s angry.” Naruto mumbled, awkwardly playing with his hands as Obito scooped him up, his head resting on the man’s shoulder. “is she angry at me?”

“Not at you.” Obito assured, moving quickly to catch up with his wife. “Never at you, kid.”

…

He tries to mention Kamui to the old man Hokage once or twice on the rare occasion he is let into the office.

(He has learnt a few extraordinary pranks would do the trick.)

But the old man only grows cold as he cheerfully mentioned his sister figure, his hands going white around his permanently lit pipe.

“Do not mention that woman here.” He snapped, his hands reaching for a photo of him and three young genin Naruto doesn’t recognise.

It is the only time Sarutobi is genuinely angry with him, so Naruto never mentions her again.

He doesn’t understand what the old man has against Kamui-nee though, she’s the nicest, warmest person Naruto has ever met.

…

Despite the late hour, the sky turning dark outside, Kamui manages one look at the receptionist before they are all quickly let into the old man’s office.

Which was completely unfair. Usually, he had to wait outside for ages, which was really, really, boring.

“Sarutobi.” Kamui smiled, Obito depositing him on the chair, pulling out a dango stick from the empty air and handing it to him. Kamui was smiling, but it wasn’t the nice smile she usually gave him or Obito, it was messed up around the edges. As if she was just baring her teeth instead of smiling. “I wasn’t aware Konoha didn’t have child endangerment laws, you should work on that.”

That was a lot of long words he didn’t understand, Kamui was sometimes a bit weird like that.

“Child endangerment is for civilians and Naruto is an academy student.” The old man replied, giving Kamui a strange look himself. Adults were all a bit strange, always angry and yelling at him for no reason. “Therefore, he can no longer stay at the civilian orphanage.”

“So, you happily allow five-year-olds to live by themselves and pour boiling water onto themselves as well?”

Naruto bit into the dango, Obito’s forearms resting on the back of the chair he was sat in.

“No one else would take him.”

“That-” She was trembling as she stared at the Hokage, her heavily jewelled hand slashing in front  of her as if she was swatting a persistent fly. “That is a lie. If nothing else, I would’ve taken him. Or I would have arranged for someone else to.”

“But, alas, you cannot do that.” The Hokage said, Naruto’s head whipping between the two adults in amazement as the Hokage turned back to his paperwork. “Goodbye, Empress.”

He could’ve stayed with Kamui this whole time.

He doesn’t move even as Obito tries to usher him out of the room, the dango falling out of his grip and onto the carpet.

He could’ve stayed with Kamui this whole time.

His mind flashed back to the empty and cold apartment, the bite of metal and water burning his arms, the hunger that rested high on his throat when he stared at the ceiling at night, the sound of Konoha’s night loud and clear through the thin walls.

He didn’t mind when it was the best option, when it meant not living in the orphanage anymore.

But now?

He didn’t want to go back, not when he could stay with Kamui.

He would even put up with Kamui’s insistence of manners, would even memorise the correct steps to those boring tea ceremonies if only it meant that he could stay. He’d never do a prank again if it meant that he could stay with her instead of on his own.

It is quiet in his apartment, far too quiet.

He turned to her, expecting her to scream and shout as everyone else did when they did not get their own way.

However, Kamui was silent, her fingers curling into fists as she spun on her heel, marching towards the door without another word. Obito was silent as well, his hand heavy as it rested on Naruto’s shoulders, firmly guiding him towards the door.

“No.” Naruto said, ripping himself away from Obito, the masked man startling slightly at the sudden passion in the small child. “I want to stay with Kamui-nee. I don’t want to back.”

He’s facing the Hokage now, the old man raising his head with that stupid, smelly, pipe still in his mouth.

“As a citizen of Konoha, you have to stay here. I’m afraid that is the end of it, Naruto. I’m sorry.”

The Hokage had not apologised to Kamui, only to him.

“No!” Naruto insisted, pulling his arm away from Obito when he reached for him once more. He’s become very effective at dodging trained ninja with his pranks. “A kid in the orphanage got adopted by this woman from Sand, this is the same thing. I want to go, dattebayo!”

“Godling…” Kamui  knelt beside him, meeting his own trembling blue eyes with saddened black ones. “Godling please, we will discuss this later.”

“No.” He choked out, his voice trembling as he stubbornly wiped away the tears. “No. I want to stay with you. Please, Kamui-nee, you’re an empress, aren’t you? Please let me stay.”

“The ANBU will escort you home, Naruto.” Sarutobi said firmly, waving at the guard to his right. “I think it’s best that Kamui and Tobi leave.”

“Kamui-nee, please.” Naruto begged, Obito stepping in the way of the ANBU with a rabbit mask, his only visible eye dark and serious.

“You would leave a child alone just for your own pride? For what? To keep a weapon you’re not allowed to use?” She said, rising to her feet and glaring at Sarutobi.

“You have left me no choice.”

Naruto screams as the second ANBU in the room scoops him off the floor, the shinobi moving back as Kamui moved to grab him. Naruto kicks wildly, nails moving to scratch at the ANBU’s face through his mask. He continues screaming even as he is carried out of the room, screaming to be let go, screaming for Kamui and Obito.

He can still hear her though, he has always had better hearing than his peers.

“I hope you burn.” She tells the Hokage, her voice as cold as ice.

Naruto can’t help but agree with her.

…

She takes him to Tea occasionally, to see his Aunt Kaina and Karin. Unlike Kamui, they are actually related to him by blood. Kaina is kind, respectful as she brushes over the whisker marks on his cheeks. Aunt Kaina tells him over their clan, Naruto’s eyes wide as he listens to her reverently. She tells him of their responsibility to house a god, she tells him about the fox that sleeps in the seal on his stomach.

“The nine-tailed will not sleep forever.” Aunt Kaina told him, pushing his hair from his eyes. “When you are of an appropriate age to deal with the chakra influx, we will loosen the seal that will allow you to access it’s full power, as your mother did before you, and her grandmother did before her.”

“Is that why the other kids don’t like me?” Naruto mumbled, Kamui holding him close as the two women exchanged a look. “Because I’m different.”

“You are not just different, Naruto.” Kamui tells him, dark eyes staring deeply into his blue ones. “You are better. You are worth more than any of them combined.”

Kamui takes him to the temple, Hidan uncharacteristically quiet and serious as he trailed behind them. In the middle of the open room, is a statue depicting nine great beasts all pouncing in different directions at an invisible enemy.

“I do not call you godling for nothing Naruto.” Kamui said, her tone serious as she sat down next to him as he stared up in amazement at the figures before him. “We will train you to properly utilise your abilities, as is expected in the old religion. Unfortunately, Konoha, and Fire as a whole, has chosen to disgrace this universal truth and name these creatures an evil. The tailed beasts are not inherently evil Naruto, they are manifestations of chakra. They are not good nor bad, what matters is how you use the power they offer you.”

He is six years old, the true meaning of Kamui’s words flying way over his head.

“I have a god in my stomach.” He gaped, ripping his eyes away from the statue as Kamui nodded slowly. “That’s so cool!”

“Yes.” She replied, a smile picking up on her lips. “I suppose it is.”

…

“I don’t want to go.” He grumbled, stomping after Obito on their usual walk to the academy. “That bastard Sasuke is going to be there.”

“What’s wrong with this Sasuke?” Obito asked, his scarred hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers as they crossed the road. “And don’t swear.”

“He’s a teme.” Naruto insisted, huffing as he adjusted his bag. “All the girls drool over him and it’s disgusting, and he thinks he’s so cool just cause he’s from that Uchiha clan. He’s the top of his class as well, which I don’t get cause he’s an arrogant bas-”

“Don’t swear.” Obito reminded, turning to him, and even though Naruto can’t see past Obito’s mask he knows that his eyebrows are raised. “You’re hanging around Hidan too much.”

“Hidan is awesome, dattebayo!”

“He’s also a maniac but we’re all entitled to our own opinions.” Obito waved off, stopping as they reached the gates of the academy. “Remember what I told you?”

“Don’t tell anyone I’m secretly a god, yeah, I got it.” He huffed, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “I don’t get why I can’t tell anyone though, I’m sure they’ll find it really cool, and maybe they’ll want to be my friend once they realise that I’m worth it.”

“You want people to be your friend because of you, Naruto.” Obito said, his hand resting on his head as he knelt down to speak with him. “Not because of what you can do for them. You’ve done a great job not mentioning my real name to anyone, think of it like that.”

“I still don’t get why I have to do that.” He grumbled, fixing his hair when Obito ruffled it.

“I’ll tell you the full story when you graduate.” The other man shrugged. “Think of it as motivation to beat the Uchiha.”

“You don’t know the bast-” A sharp look. “The Uchiha like I do. They’re demons, I’m telling you Obi-nii.”

Obi was the only name he could think of that went with both Obito and Tobi.

“Nah.” Obito laughed slightly, nudging him towards the door. “I know a thing or two about Uchiha. Have a good day at school, kid.”

…

“The Empire of Tea, Whirlpool and Rice.” Kamui showed him proudly, gesturing to the map as he stood on the chair next to her. “I do not rule for money Naruto, or for just the power of it. This is important to understand if you wish to be Hokage. We must rule because we want the best for our people, we must stand for equality and the safety of our subjects. From the richest noble to the poorest farmer.”

“What if we didn’t?”

“Then you get men like the Hokage.” She said, their eyes drifting to where Konoha was marked on the map. “Who let people slip through the cracks because they are too soft to assert themselves for what is right.” She paused, turning to him with a small frown. “Apologies, it is rude of me to insult him in front of you, he is your leader after all.”

“It’s fine.” He shrugged. “You’re right. Was my dad a better Hokage?”

“He didn’t stay long enough for me to be able to tell.” She replied. “But he was working he way up to being a great one I’m sure, they wouldn’t carve his face into a mountain otherwise.”

Naruto nodded, swallowing against the lump in his throat that always formed when he though of his birth parents.

“It’s a silly name.” He eventually said, staring at the boundaries of the empire on the map.

“My empire?” Kamui openly laughed, titling her head as she considered him. “What makes it a silly name, godling?”

“It’s too long.” He frowned deeply, crossing his arms and tilting his head as he stared at the map. “It sounds kind of stupid, sorry Kamui-nee.”

“What would you have me name it then?” She asked, eyes sparkling with intrigue.

Naruto’s mind immediately flashed to the statue of the moon goddess fashioned in Kamui’s image that had sat next to the merchant so many years ago. Remembered how people clamoured for her favour, the imposing image of the rabbit goddess he had seen near the statue of the tailed beasts.

“The Empire of the Moon.” He decided, jutting out his chin stubbornly as he met her gaze. “You should name it the Empire of the Moon.”

“Kaguya dislikes me already.” Kamui hummed, laughing under her breath as she turned back to the map. “And I do quite enjoy laughing at her as well. But it gives the woman far more credit than she is owed.”

“Who’s Kaguya?” Naruto frowned, trying to recall where he recognised the name. “I thought the people believed you were the moon goddess.”

At this, Kamui’s head fell back as she howled with laughter.

“You mean to name the empire after me.” She grinned, breathing deeply through her laughter as Naruto stared up at her in confusion. “Replace her for me as the moon goddess in peoples mind?”

“You don’t like the name?”

“Oh no, godling.” She grinned, her teeth sharp in the natural light of the room. “I think it’s brilliant.”

…

The next week, he glances up during lessons to see that the map on the wall next to him has changed.

The Empire of the Moon, the map proudly proclaims, the borders of the empire marked a deep red.

…

Naruto’s favourite colour is orange, the bright and vibrant shade that streaked across the sky when he is sat on Obito’s shoulders, Kamui gracefully walking beside them as they all venture back to his apartment.

It is the sight he returns too whenever it is too cold and too quiet in his apartment. He paints the walls orange to remind him of the sight. To remind him that there are people out there that loved and cared for him, unlike the adults in Konoha and some of his peers.

Other people aren’t as enthused with his attachment to the colour.

Naruto didn’t see an issue, he was only as attached to orange as Kamui was to red.

Well, maybe slightly less attached than that.

He shouts in excitement when Kamui turned up for the parents evening, watching with pride as the teacher cowered in front of her intense gaze when he said that Naruto couldn’t be considered a serious ninja when wearing such intense colours to class.

“And yet, despite the scores you gave him on the written exam, he is still beating most of his peers.” Obito commented.

“Even with… loud colours.” Kamui added, red on her lips as deep as the red of her skirt. “I didn’t raise a fool, Naruto knows that bright colours are no good when hiding from your enemy.”

At this, Naruto nodded rapidly, sat in a small stool between his two guardians.

“Alas,” Obito continued, even with one eye being able to make the teacher shift in his seat. “We also raised Naruto so that he wouldn’t have to hide from his enemy, not when he can destroy them.”

“So, forgive us.” Kamui smiled sweetly, resting a hand on Naruto’s shoulder. “But as Naruto is not a full shinobi and an academy student, our ward can wear whatever he wants to.”

He meets the teachers helpless eyes as he straightened with pride, sending an identical smile across the desk to the teacher.

…

Sometimes, more times than he would like, he is alone.

Kamui most go back to running an empire, Obito and all the Akatsuki following her. Kaina cannot stay with him, still hiding from some of the people that want to take her and Karin’s ability. So, he remains alone, Kamui hired someone to cook him meals and pack him lunch, but the woman came and went quietly and quickly. Never staying long enough for conversation or friendship.

Kamui could not stay with him forever, that much is clear. She and the Hokage didn’t like each other, and Naruto could understand why, the old man was mean and horrible when it came to Kamui. Likely jealous that he couldn’t run a village, let alone a country as well as she could.

When his teacher asks him what he wants to be when he grows up, Naruto proudly sits straight up in his seat and tells him.

“I want to be Hokage. I want to be a strong and effective leader like Kamui no Chaba, and lead Konoha and Fire into a golden age.”

He wants Kamui to be proud of him, he wants to be strong enough to defeat even Obito in a spar, he wants to show them that he was worth everything that they had offered him. Was worth every single second of the time they willingly set aside for him.

He was going to be the greatest Hokage Konoha had ever seen, believe it.

After all, he had been raised by the best people for the job.

Chapter Text

They had not killed every Sound ninja they had found, anyone that had been found chained in the dungeons had been freed to go home, and those that didn’t remember the home they should return to were embraced by the loving arms of Tea. They were added to the growing shinobi academy, the adults among them quickly becoming mentors and helping Kisame with the influx of the sudden workload.

Many were saved, and many were killed once their intentions were deemed too untrustworthy.

Seven years after the decimation of Sound, Kamui stood on the podium in front of the graduating shinobi class. Kisame stood to her left, unable to keep the proud grin off of his face as he stared down at his graduating class. He was now acting as headmaster, and teacher of the upper years of the academy. Since the large influx of students, it was decided that they would be split into three stages, those that were six and under, those that were six to twelve, and the final stage was twelve to sixteen.

The six and under group mainly focused on socialising, learning to control their chakra, the history of the empire, as well as basic fitness. Six to twelve was where they truly started to learn how to fight with their chakra, learning basic jutsu’s such as cloning and balance. The final group was where they truly learnt to fight, using the strength and speed they had conditioned in the previous stages, as well as their connections with the other pupils to truly form a cohesive unit. Some of the more… experienced students they had taken from Sound were disgruntled to hear they would not be advanced due to their abilities, but Kamui had remained firm that no one would be leaving their class behind.

Obito stood to her right, his only visible eye fixated on the neat rows of five the twenty graduating students presented, all of their stances perfect as they stared ahead. There was marginally more boys than there were girls in this year, a juxtaposition to last years graduating class that had been more girls.

Kisame and Obito were dressed in the official Akatsuki uniform, a black cloak with red clouds neatly printed onto it, a black yukata under the cloak. Obito wore an eyepatch over his empty eye socket, both hands covered by black leather gloves to mask the difference between one side of his body and the other. Kamui did not understand the need for such a thing,  but her husband had insisted for the sake of propriety, and she did tend to indulge him.

With the influx of chakra gifted children from the Rice and Whirlpool areas from the empire, not to mention the children that were brought from all over Tea to be tested. they had managed to split the classes by age. The number of children graduating each year averaging to around fifteen.

Orochimaru had killed half of the men that had guarded her seven years ago, she had replaced that amount within her own specially trained shinobi force within five years.

“At ease.” Kisame called out, the sound of twenty feet moving simultaneously causing a small smile to tug on Kamui’s lips. “Her Majesty, Empress Kamui no Chaba will now speak, and even if I may not be your teacher anymore, I expect all of you brats to listen like your life depends on it.”

Kamui let out a sharp laugh at that, stepping forward as Kisame stepped back.

Her gold crown caught the light of the midday sun as she stepped forward, her pale hands resting between the sleeves of her red kimono as she smiled down at the graduates.

“The deepest congratulations to you all.” She announced. “You have trained well and will be rewarded for your efforts. You have chosen to commit the largest act of bravery and commit yourself to the safety and prosperity of our young empire, secure it for all of the generations to come after us. This year there will be a slight differ in proceedings for your graduation.” There was a short look exchanged between the graduates, confusion shining in their eyes. “This year we will be, finally, be introducing what many graduates have requested over the past six years. Since our empire has grown into a name of it’s own, it feels only fit to present you all with our own hitaiate.” Numerous eyes widened excitedly, the graduates silently grinning at each other. “You will be pleased to hear, you are the very first people to be presented with this marker, the rest of our shinobi will have to wait until next week for their own.”

The forehead protectors rested on a table behind the three of them, obscured from the immediate view of the graduates while they were speaking. One by one the graduates approached when their name was called, Kamui couldn’t help but smile as, even though their shinobi were trained to kill, all of them looked terrified as they approached Obito and Kamui, bowing deeply to them both as Obito handed them their new hitaiate and Kamui smiled pleasantly and shook their hands. They were almost devastatingly relieved the second they turned away to shake hands and to collect their certificate from Kisame.

With Naruto deciding to name it the Empire of the Moon, or just Moon as they were quickly becoming known within the last few months of the name change. The choice of the symbol had been the easiest thing Kamui had to decide during her reign. They eventually settled on a crescent moon, the tips of the crescent facing skyward and a small circle within the empty space of the crescent. Sasori had detested the idea of just having a simple question and had demanded something extra from the design.

Kamui had counted at least ten arguments between Deidara and Sasori on the matter, and that was only the ones that she was aware of.

Empress Kamui no Chaba of the Moon.

The thought made her smile wider as she gazed over the graduates.

…

There was only one other ruler that shared her position as an arguable mix of both daimyo and kage. One other person that was Kamui’s constant between the boredom that was the daimyo meetings. One other that at least held some tentative respect for the old ways.

“Rasa.” She greeted with a smile as she stepped into the imperial house of Sand. Her usual heavy kimono, suitable for the mild weather of Tea was replaced by a long and loose red dress, a dark sheer shawl threaded with gold wrapped around her shoulders and hair to protect her from the force of the sand the area was named for.

“Kamui.” The ruler of Sand smiled back, easily accepting her brief hug. “I heard about the introduction of you hitaiate’s, I must commend you for the design.”

Rasa’s family had ruled Sand for the past four generations, his family disposing of the pharaoh that had ruled before them, replacing it with their own imperial line of father’s and sons. Due to the hostile environment of Sand, though rich in diamonds and oil, they lacked a stable local population. Instead choosing to build densely in sparse areas that were hospitable. This meant that Rasa could keep his position as both daimyo and shinobi leader with less people to overtly micromanage.

He was perhaps one of Kamui’s eldest allies, having stuck by her side since her first appearance at the summit of daimyo’s.

“You are too nice.” She smiled, Obito stepping through the door behind her, shaking the sand out of his hair. “I cannot believe it’s been six years since I have experienced your grand hospitality. How are your children? Did Temari receive the gift I sent for her birthday?”

“She did.” Rasa nodded, a light shining in his eyes at the mention of his children. “I must thank you for the exquisite fan you commissioned for her, it has really helped spark an interest with Sand’s fighting style and culture.”

“It is the least I can do.” Kamui waved off, drawing back the shawl from her head and shoulders.

“Tobi.” Rasa stated, the light dimming from his eyes as he noted Kamui’s shadow behind her. “I had hoped the weather would be too unwelcoming for you.”

Rasa and Obito had never liked each other.

“For some weak shinobi, perhaps.” Obito replied coldly. “Alas, I am not weak unlike some of the shinobi you train.”

Kamui had hoped they could have at least left the front room before exchanging insults, apparently that had been too much to ask.

“While I would never refuse your hospitality Rasa, I find myself curious to the urgency of your missive?” She asked before Rasa could bite out another insult and the situation escalated.

“Come to my office.” He stated. “We’ll talk there.”

…

“You seem tense Rasa.” She noted, calmly taking a seat in front of his desk. “Is there anything we can help you with?”

“Anything to do with the jinchuriki that’s terrorising your villages fortnightly?” Obito remarked dryly, kicking his feet out casually and leaning back. “How much did you mess up the seal work for that one to happen?”

“Jinchuriki?” She frowned, her mind flashing to how they had also released the one tail with the nine tailed seven years ago. “Your attack was seven years ago, and you dealt with it swiftly-“

“Apparently too swiftly.” Her husband muttered.

“And caused nowhere near as much damage as the nine tails did to Konoha.” She continued clearly, ignoring her partners muttering. “I asked you seven years ago Rasa, and you said that you had it handled. That you locked the god within one of your best. Why is it becoming an issue now?”

“The grief over the death of my wife caused me to take… drastic measures.” Rasa admitted, folding his hands in front of him as he spoke. “One of those measures was sealing the one tailed into my son.”

“Kankuro?” She asked, her mind flashing to the painted face of the three-year-old she remembered running around daimyo summits.

“No. Not Kankuro.” The leader of Sand sighed heavily, the sand in the area around him dancing as if to subconsciously comfort him. “My third child, Gaara.”

“You did not tell me you had a third child.” She frowned, narrowing her eyes at the ruler she had considered an ally.

“To be blunt, I did not want to have a third child.” Rasa continued. “Gaara is raised as a weapon, violence and ruthlessness is all he knows.”

Such a terrible thing to say about any child, let alone your own.

Kamui turned away, breathing deeply and desperately attempting to quell the fire sparking in her veins at the information.

Her political allies were always disappointing in some way.

“Why make your own son a weapon?” Obito questioned, his hand resting on top of Kamui’s forearm, rubbing his fingers along the delicate skin in a silent form of comfort.

“Do you not see?” Rasa asked, exasperated as he looked between them. “Fire is going to destroy us. They have all the major clans, the most powerful ninja force, it’s only a matter of time before they decide to consume us completely.”

“Fire are idiots.” Obito stated, his head tilting behind the mask as he examined Rasa. “But even they’re not that stupid.”

“They have the nine tailed fox, they have all the major clans, the Uchiha and the Hyuuga, how long do you think it will take until they stop playing nice and start expecting us to bow to their will?”

Obito and Kamui shared a sharp look.

Such a theory wasn’t outlandish. It was clear to all nations that Fire viewed themselves as the greatest and brightest, a shining beacon in the new era, pulling everyone along on their journey to modernity. It was clear by the way the Fire Daimyo looked down on them all, clear in the way they held the most powerful jinchuriki.

“We need to band together.” Rasa continued. “Lightning and Earth have also expressed the same sentiment. We should destroy Fire before Fire decides to draw on it’s own allies and destroy us. You are a believer in the old ways Kamui, you must realise your culture is dying in the face of pressure from Fire?”

“What you are offering me is nothing but an invitation to war and chaos.” Kamui pointed out, dark eyes meeting his over the desk. “While I appreciate the friendship you have offered me over the years Rasa, this is a different matter entirely. Why should I, why should my empire, listen to anything you have to say?”

“Your empire does not have a jinchuriki, Kamui.” Rasa replied, leaning back in his chair and watching them both carefully. “Your ninja garrison is not even a decade old, still stumbling from the ashes. I am giving you a gift.”

“Be careful how you speak, Rasa.” Obito spoke up, his eye spinning dangerously behind his mask. “We are an Empire while you barely can keep control over patches of desert. If we refuse you, Nagato and Rain will follow. Without us, you do not have near enough resources for your fanciful dream.”

Rasa did not blink, his eyes fixed on Kamui.

“Your lapdog barks too much.”

“He also bites.” She remarked. “Would you like a demonstration?”

“I thought we were allies.”

“We stopped being allies the second you raised a child as a weapon.” Kamui scoffed. “The second you decided that a child, not just any child but your own flesh and blood, had the same worth as your favourite kunai. A weapon? You disgust me.”

“I have already realised the fault in my actions.” He said flatly. “What’s done is done.”

“You don’t care whether or not we join your rebellion against Fire, you and Earth are arrogant to stage it with or without or help.” Obito realised, Kamui turning to him curiously. “No. You want us to take your jinchuriki away from here.”

“I had hoped your lack of one could persuade you to foster him for the next five years.” The leader admitted, rubbing an aged hand against his face as he sighed in defeat. “The grounds of the empire are old magic, I hope bringing the god closer to it will quell it’s bloodlust. I have lost too many people, my citizens are rioting, I cannot keep him here.”

“What would you do with him if we said no?” Kamui asked, afraid of the answer.

“He is a rabid dog.” Rasa stated, determined. “And there is only one way to deal with rabid dogs.”

“You would kill your own child?” Kamui choked out, her eyes burning as she stared back at him. “For what? Succeeding in what you have raised him to do?”

“You wanted a cold-blooded killer, Rasa.” Obito pointed out, nodding along with his wife’s words as Kamui rose from her seat. “Arguably, you have succeeded tremendously in your goal. The problem is that it’s your own citizens he is killing, not someone else’s.”

“He is seven.” Kamui breathed out, facing away from the pair as she stared out onto the dull landscape of Sand. “He is seven.”

“He is a monster.” Rasa reiterated. “There is no human soul within that shell, just that of a vengeful god. Will you take him or not?”

“Giving up your jinchuriki?” Obito scoffed, rising from his own seat. “You really must be desperate.”

“When that monster ravages through your lands, I hope it is you that he eats first.” Rasa hissed back.

“Enough.” Kamui snapped, turning on her heel to face both of them. “Out of respect for my gods, out of the care I held for your late wife, I will take in your son as a ward. You may come to me in five years and collect him once more, but only if he wishes to go.”

“You’re going to steal my jinchuriki?”

“I am stealing nothing.” Kamui stated coldly, turning on her heel as she marched towards the door, the material of her dress floating like ripples in a lake around her as she moved. “You just gave him to me.”

…

When Rasa described a bloodthirsty monster, a tiny seven-year-old with hair so red he could’ve passed for an Uzumaki and pupilless eyes was not what Kamui had pictured.

“He may be a child, Kamui.” Obito had sternly reminded her on the guarded walk to the chambers the boy was held in. “But he’s still a jinchuriki with a volatile seal, one wrong move and we’ll be dealing with a one tailed force of chakra.”

Kamui stood a few feet away from the child, waiting to be acknowledged while Obito hovered near the door, his shoulders tense as if he was preparing to intervene at any point. Kamui’s eyes landed on the wound on the god’s (Gaara, his name was Gaara) forehead, taking note of how his clothes were ripped and covered in sand.

“Mother says you are a god killer.” The boy spoke up suddenly, large eyes settling on Kamui.

Gaara referred to the one tailed as Mother.

That would have to be remedied, fixing the seal becoming first on her list of priorities once they returned to Tea.

“I did not kill Kaguya.” She pointed out calmly. “Merely continued to inconvenience her by keeping her trapped.”

The boy fell silent once more, his eyes focusing on nothing and muttering to himself, likely conversing with the god trapped within him.

“My name is Kamui.” She introduced herself, snapping Gaara out of his musing and taking a small step closer. “I am the Empress of Moon. Have you heard of it?”

“Briefly.” He admitted, looking down at his hands. “It was marked with a lovely red on the map, it made Mother hungry.”

Well, that was not creepy at all.

“Do you have a favourite colour, Gaara?” She asked, taking another small step closer, now stood nearly toe to toe with the child. “I like to know everyone's favourite colour you see, I believe it can tell you a lot about a person.”

The little god stared at her with pupilless eyes, the scar on his forehead, a crudely drawn kanji for love, was fresh, bleeding sluggishly and clearly irritated.

“I like the colour red.” The child admitted, and Kamui could feel her eyebrow raise slightly in silent curiosity.

She had never had any special preference for children, but she is gentle as she knelt on the sand covered floor and took the boy’s chin between her pale fingers, examining him carefully. Something flickered in his eyes, something inhumane, equally as twisted as it was powerful.

In her concentration on Naruto, she had neglected to be informed about the life of another child she had destroyed. She would be a fool not to see the benefits this situation had presented her. Naruto was happy, well fed and ambitious, it was perhaps time to divert some of her attention on the other life she had destroyed.

Plus, it was not every day she met a fellow appreciator of red.

A smile spread across her red lips as she took in the boy in front of her, vaguely noted how Obito relaxed minutely from where he was across the room.

“Well, what do you know?” She hummed thoughtfully. “I quite like the colour red as well.”

Something shined in the little god’s eyes, and Kamui knew that this was the start of a beautiful friendship.

Chapter Text

The little god stared at her.

With a single raised eyebrow, Kamui stared back, her composure unwavering even in the face of a child that had been raised to be nothing but a blood thirsty weapon.

Kamui knew bloodthirsty, she felt it run through her veins when she thought back on her life before the crown was placed on her head, she saw it in Obito’s eyes, she saw it in the way Hidan bared his teeth like a rabid dog, she saw it in the way Deidara and Sasori looked at murder and proclaimed it an art.

Kamui commanded a legion of cold-blooded murderers, she married them.

This child, jutting out his chin to hide the way his shoulders were trembling, did not scare her.

Still, there was something palatably inhuman about Gaara.

Perhaps it was the pupilless eyes, perhaps it was how he was brimming with so much chakra, uncontrollable and burning like the beating sun, so much that even Kamui could taste it on her tongue when she reached for his shoulder.

“Gaara.” She said softly, kneeling down to boy’s height. “Do you know what your father and I have discussed?”

“He’s not my father.” Gaara spat, his tiny hands curling into fists by his sides.

“No.” Kamui agreed easily. “I suppose he abandoned that title long ago. No matter. It has been decided that your… outbursts here have been detrimental to both your own wellbeing and the safety of the village. For that reason, you have been accepted into my care as a ward of the Empire of Moon.”

“For raising Naruto, you really can’t talk to children.” Obito grumbled from next to her.

They had been escorted into a private room with large open windows, allowing the breeze and the sand to drift in and ease the stifling heat of the desert. Gaara stood opposite them, the mark on his head still lightly bleeding even as it had been treated with an antiseptic by a trembling maid. The only other people in the room were the two guards by the door, both Sand shinobi no matter how much Kamui had protested on the matter.

The presence of the Sand shinobi seemed to make Gaara even more nervous, pupilless eyes glancing quickly from them before returning to stare at Kamui.

“Mother was hungry.” He stated simply, as if that was the only explanation that was necessary.

“The one-tailed is a creature of pure chakra.” Obito pointed out, his only eye landing on Gaara. “It is not your parent.”

“They are Mother.” Gaara insisted, eyes darkening with anger as they moved to Obito. “They said so.”

Sighing softly, Kamui reached out for Gaara once more, stilling when the seven-year-old flinched away from her, his hands curled over his chest as if to protect himself from an invisible enemy.

“The voice you hear is not your parent.” She said softly, slowly retracting her hand so not to seem more of a threat. “The one-tailed is a very old god, full of a righteous amount of anger for what has been done to it. However, no matter its anger, it was wrong of it to manipulate you in this way. Wrong of your father to put you in this position.”

“You’re a liar.” Gaara’s voice was rising in volume by the second, the sand around them seeming to rise around them, sticking to him like a shield. “Mother tells me so.”

“I am many things Gaara, but a liar is not one of them.” She stated solemnly, watching carefully as the boy continued to shake, and the sand around them began to rise higher and spin dangerously even with the lack of strong wind in the room.

She felt Obito drag her to her feet, stumbling slightly to regain her footing after the sudden change. Glancing at her husband, Kamui followed him in stepping back and watching the sand carefully.

“Probably shouldn’t have said that.” Her husband commented, a particularly vicious gust of sand flowing through them both as if they were merely ghosts without corporal forms, the power of his sharingan glimmering around them, like a distant mirage in the desert.

“I gathered.” She remarked bluntly, watching carefully as the sand began to coil like a viper around Gaara’s arms.

She had done this. She has forgotten her duty, and she had reduced a child to nothing more than a puppet to both his parents and the god he held inside of him. Gaara had spent his life as the rope in the game of tug and war between Rasa and the one-tailed and he was beginning to fray and soon enough he would snap. She should’ve come earlier, she shouldn’t had just blindly trusted Rasa’s word that everything was handled. She should’ve looked deeper and questioned more.

Rasa and the one-tailed were the ones playing the game, but Kamui had provided them with the rope.

She may have helped Naruto, but she, knowingly or not, had abandoned Gaara to this terrible fate.

“Ma’am.” The Sand shinobi told her, materialising at her side. “The one-tailed is unpredictable, it would be in my advice to leave right away so we can neutralise the threat.”

“Neutralise the threat?” The words tasted bitter and sharp on her tongue as she whipped to stare at the shinobi in shock. “The threat? He’s seven years old!”

“You can’t handle a temperamental seven-year-old?” Her husband huffed, shrugging off the shinobi that had tried to reach for him with a strong glare. “I knew Sand wasn’t the best for shinobi training, but that’s ridiculous.”

“This isn’t an ordinary child.” The Sand shinobi said, detached from his own words. “It’s a demon.”

Right.

Kamui’s eyes narrowed, scowling at the shinobi next to her.

She had abandoned Gaara once, she would not do so again.

She watched the sand whip around them, growing higher and more vicious by the second. It grew thicker in front of them as well, a physical barrier so thick that she could no longer see Gaara standing in it. Next to her, she could feel Obito watching her carefully, trying to decipher what Kamui was thinking. If she was honest, Kamui was half the tactician her husband was, she had no battle experience outside of her skirmish with Orochimaru, a skirmish which she had definitely lost. So, Kamui would have  to do the one thing she did best, talk her way out of it.

Before anyone could stop her, Kamui plunged herself into the wall of sand.

Inside the growing cocoon of sand, she could feel the wind blister against her skin, the sand tearing through the wind like daggers, cutting into her skin and clothes. In front of her she could just barely see Gaara, the sand clinging to him like armour, slowly morphing into the hide of an ancient creature, the one tailed slowly consuming the young boy.

“Enough.” She said stumbling slightly as she pushed through the sand, the wind so harsh that it nearly picked her off her feet. “I said enough!”

The eye of the storm was calm as she stumbled in front of Gaara, red painted fingers reaching out to grab the boys forearm, one of the only pieces of remaining skin that wasn’t covered completely by sand.

“I am Kamui no Chaba.” She stated her eyes narrowed as she looked, unfaltering, into the eyes of the snarling god. “Empress of Moon."

“God killer.” The god snarled, a low growl unnatural from the mouth of a child. “Mother killer.”

“I did nothing to Kaguya, nothing that she did not deserve.” She hissed back to the growling god. “And it will be nothing into comparison of what I will do to you if you continue to torment this child in this way.”

“I am a god, tiny empress.” The one-tailed continued to growl, and there was something deeply unnatural about the voice of a god coming from a child, rage that had cultivated for centuries shining in the eyes of a seven-year-old as the sand swirling around them grew thick. “You cannot hurt me.”

“By your own admission, I am Kaguya’s destruction.” She replied, her grip tightening on his forearm as the sand tried to pry her away. “I have replaced her in every aspect. Your Mother, your creator, the all-powerful goddess Kaguya, and yet she fell to me. They have replaced her image with my own, they dedicate shrines to my name. You, one-tailed, are the weakest of them all, if I could destroy your creator so easily, what makes you think I can’t do the same to you?”

The god in her gripped squirmed, trying to use the strength of a child to remove it from the grip of an adult, but the sand around them faltered, the thick layer of sand slowly shrinking away from Gaara.

“And I will do the same to you, god.” She hissed, her eyes dark and serious as it stilled suddenly in her grasp. “If you continue to treat an innocent child like this, manipulate him to your own end, proclaim yourself his mother, I will make what I did to Zetsu and Kaguya look merciful.”

She was bluffing.

In reality, Kamui didn’t do anything to Zetsu and Kaguya, that had all been Obito’s doing. She had not purposefully made the people worship her instead of Kaguya, she had not forced her image to replace the goddesses. That had been the work of the people, the work of fantasies and poetry.

But the one-tailed didn’t know that. All that it knew was that it’s creator was now trapped for eternity and the only woman it could link to it all was the one standing in front of him.

“You can’t kill me.” It hissed, but she could see the panic spreading as it’s eyes widened, and the sand shrank further away.

“Now, now….” Kamui hummed, her sneer melting into a brief flash of a grin before turning cold once more. “We both know that’s not true.”

Zetsu in his quest to hunt down tailed beasts, had told them every necessary step to remove and trap them. Kamui would’ve paid more attention if this was how it was going to be useful to her. Kamui loved her gods, respected them and their desires above all, but if this one was going to take out it’s inferiority complex on an innocent child, then she was not above removing it like the parasite it was.

She could do nothing if the one-tailed called her out, if it decided to fully transform and devour them whole, she doubted that her husband would be able to grab her in time. However, as she watched the sand rapidly shrink away, the shadow of an ancient god disappearing from Gaara’s eyes, Kamui swallowed against the urge to sob in relief.

The sand spinning around them fell to a ground, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, the same time as Gaara slumped against her. His eyes were heavy with tears threatening to spill over, his head rested against Kamui’s shoulder for a second before he began to sniffle.

“Mother.” He called out into the open air, his eyes wide as they glanced around the room, as if trying to physically seek out the god that would no longer speak to him. “Mother, please.”

Kamui doesn’t know what breaks her heart the most, whether it is the timid breaking of his small voice, the hopelessness in his eyes, or the wet patches on the shoulder of her dress from the tears that were beginning to spill down his cheeks.

“It’s okay…” She breathed out slowly, wrapping her arms around the child and drawing him closer, softly resting her cheek on top of his vibrant red hair. “It’ll be okay.”

“Mother.” Gaara continued to sob into her shoulder, Kamui only curling tighter around him.

“It’s going to be okay, Gaara.” She whispered, unsure whether Gaara could hear her over the strength of his sobs. Unsure whether he was actually okay with the embrace or if he simply didn’t notice in his distress. Lifting her eyes, she made eye contact with Obito as he skidded to a stop in front of them, his own hand reaching out to rub the kids shoulder. “I promise you, I’m going to make it better.”

…

They are back to the palace by sundown, Gaara fast asleep in Obito’s arms, his chakra levels having plummeted after his grand display of the power of an unstable jinchuriki. It was one of the many moments that Kamui was greatly for the efficiency of travelling by Obito’s bloodline limit.

Rasa could not even look her in the eye as they departed.

“Get Kaina.” She snapped at the closest guard, bursting into the medical ward with a flourish. “And wake up the palace doctor. I want this fixed tonight.”

Obito silently lowered Gaara onto the hospital bed, stepping back as the nurse on the night shift came rushing forward.

“Your Excellencies.” The nurse said quickly, bowing deeply before turning to the exhausted Gaara on the hospital bed. “How may I help?”

“Check his wound for infection.” Obito stated, placing a hand on Kamui’s shoulder as she continued to stare solemnly at Gaara. “Also, for malnourishment and dehydration. He’s far too small for his age.”

The nurse nodded, quickly moving to place Gaara more securely on the small cot, Kamui not looking away even as the door flew open once more and the doctor rushed in, followed quickly by a confused Kaina, both of them still in their nightgowns.

“Kaina.” She greeted, inclining her head as the other woman bowed. “Please. You must take a look at his seal, you must tell me that you can fix this.”

Kamui hovered on the other side of the hospital bed, barely paying attention as Obito talked Kaina through what he could see of Gaara’s chakra network, and the weak points in the seal that he could see when the boy had exploded with power. Kamui stood silent, the nurse and doctor quietly rushing around her as they applied salves and bandages to the wound on his temple.

“It’s a complex seal, fixing it will throw him into a fever as the two chakra stores are forced to separate and the remaining chakra from the god is purged from his system.” Kaina admitted, glancing from the seal to Kamui and Obito. “Fixing this may kill him if it all goes wrong.”

“Not fixing it will kill both him and everyone else that enters the god’s path of destruction.” She replied sternly, her fingers twitching as she resisted the sudden urge to beg.

Kamui would not beg, she was an Empress, she was above such demeaning things.

(She had failed him. She had failed him. She had failed him.)

“Do it.” Obito spoke up, his dark eye meeting Kamui’s as she stood unnervingly silent. “Modify the seal, we’ll make sure that he lives.”

Hesitantly, Kaina nodded, staring at the complex seal tattooed across the boys stomach for a moment more before getting to work.

…

“Mother.” Gaara sobbed, a small hand grasping at air. “Mother.”

The nurse and doctors had told her that the combination of the fever from the runes, malnourishment and dehydration had made him delusional.

Kamui couldn’t bare to leave his side. She had failed him once, she could not bare to do it again.

She shushed him gently, running a hand through his sweat dampened red hair. Leaning forward on the bed, she didn’t move her head as the door to the room opened, a tall dark figure quietly slipping inside.

“Darling.” Her husband greeted, a hand resting on her shoulder though her eyes remained fixed on the child in the bed. “You don’t have to be here.”

“I do.” She stated gravelly, running her hand over her face and sighing deeply. “I am the one that did this to him, I will be the one to see him through it.”

“We had no way of knowing.”

“Like we had no idea about Naruto?” She asked, turning to face him. “Like we had no idea about Zetsu? I cannot do this again Obito, I cannot fail someone else.”

In the low candlelight of the room, her husband looked even more severe. Every scar on his face casted a shadow, from the jagged lines that covered his left side to the small cuts that briefly appeared on his right. There was a long line crossing the cavity where his eye used to be on the right, the edges of it visible around his black eyepatch. His sharingan glowed in the dark as he glanced at Gaara’s trembling body on the bed.

“If I could kill this demon that haunts you, I would do it in a heartbeat.” He stated lowly, his red sharingan spinning and vicious.

“I know, my darling.” Kamui sighed, resting her hand on top of his and smiling up at him gently. “Alas, some demons are ones that only I can kill.”

“He’ll come through this, his chakra levels are already steadying.” Obito nodded, the sharingan fading away as he took a seat next to her.

“There was no doubt.” She agreed, gently running a hand through Gaara’s hair once more. “He is sharp, sharper than any weapon Rasa could’ve hoped to fashion.”

“They will talk.” He stated, resting a hand on her elbow. “They will tell stories of a monster welcomed into Moon, how Moon saved Sand from their own jinchuriki.”

“They will always talk, that is what people do best.” She waved off. “They will tell stories of our strength, of the power of the old religion, of the weakness of Sand.”

Obito nodded, both of them turning to look at the small child on the bed, Kamui shushing him gently as he began to turn violently, still trapped within the grip of the fever. Gaara reached up, his eyes opening for a brief moment and connected with hers.

“Mother.” He continued to sob, reaching out a hand to her. “Mother.”

“The one-tailed is locked away Gaara.” She said, the sobs only increasing in volume. “You will be reunited when the time is right.”

“He’s not talking about the one-tailed.” Obito stated, his eye fixated on Gaara’s trembling hand, still hovering weakly in front of her. “He’s talking to you.”

“What?” Kamui choked, taking Gaara’s hand even as she turned to Obito in shock. “That’s not possible, he’s simply delusional.”

 “What did you tell the one-tailed to make him back off?”

“That I would kill him, that I had destroyed Kaguya, that-” Kamui cut herself off, eyes widening as the realisation dawned on her. “That I had replaced Kaguya in every way.”

“Kamui, darling…” Obito didn’t even try to hide the humour in his voice. “Did you tell an ancient creature of chakra that you were replacing it’s mother?”

“Not directly.” Kamui quickly defended herself, her eyes wide. “Though I could see how it could inference of such a thing.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, before Obito broke down laughing. Hiding his head in his hands as his shoulders shook with mirth.

“This isn’t funny.” Kamui insisted, though she could hear her own laughter in her own voice. “The one-tailed must have told Gaara something along those lines before their chakra systems were separated.”

“Congratulations Kamui.” Obito joked, leaning back in his seat with a grin. “Is it a boy? Is it a girl? No. It’s an ancient god of chakra.”

Chapter Text

It took twelve hours for Gaara’s fever to break.

It is only at that moment does she leave him on his own, tucking him back into the sheets where he had kicked them off of him while tossing and turning under the power of the fever.

Mother.

Kamui had not considered the idea of holding such a title in many, many years.

Not since the previous daimyo, not since the crown had rested upon the head of a man. 

Back then, when she had been the favourite of the daimyo, there had been whispers in the court about the daimyo deciding to concentrate any childbearing efforts onto her rather than the chakusai, as their fifteen years of marriage had yet to yield any child, whether a prized prince or a loved princess.

Mother of a Bastard Dynasty, they had crowned her mockingly, looking down their noses at the idea of a concubine giving birth to the heir they had craved. Such a disappointment. Such a last resort. So crass. So shameless.

She had been fifteen, and it had taken two other concubines to hold her down when, in a fit of madness, she had tried to take a knife to her own womb.

When the crown had been placed on her own head, Obito taking shape in her shadow, those same voices had taken the wise approach and quickly faded out of court into obscurity. Whether by their own choice, or by force was a matter of private debate.

For Naruto, Kamui had never even considered herself holding the title, never quite the consistent presence she wanted to be. Not even when he had been so small and asked her if she was, even then she had told him no.

Mother.

It had been a long time since she had considered her own.

Kamui didn’t remember her name, had been too young for any need to learn it, but she could remember that she had been beautiful. She had been gentle, her mother had worshipped at the feet of the tiny statue of Kaguya in their home and meant every word she had whispered in devotional prayer. She remembered how her hands had been calloused from working on the farms in the East.

She remembered the sound of her mother screaming when the royal guard came.

Mother.

Mother.

An heir. The people of the court whispered. We need an heir. A dynasty is not one person, and this empire will fall with her. The Empress ages and still there is no heir. When will we have our heir?

Kamui had no fault with children, just the act that was required to make them.

She wished that she could pluck a child off of the street and proclaim them her heir, she wished that she could take Naruto, or even Gaara and present them as her chosen heir. However, that was not how these things worked. Gaara was arguably still second in line for Rasa’s position, the back up if Kankuro abdicated. Naruto was born and raised in Fire, the court would never accept him as a ruler of Moon, and Fire would never let him go.

An heir must always be blood. An heir carried the blood of the chosen imperial family, presumably carried the knowledge and grace of the rulers that came before them. Blood blessed by the gods themselves. Blood chosen by the gods to rule.

Even if there was an heir, with dark hair and pale skin, what happened when they opened their eyes, and they were as red as that damned blessed blood running through their veins? The sharingan for the whole nation to admire. That is when Fire comes with questions, comes hurtling in with their damned Uchiha clan and demands answers. Demands blood. Demands the eyes of a child just because they are not of Fire. When they discover Obito, when they discover what they had done-

Kamui stilled in the middle of the empty hallway, closing her eyes and breathing out slowly.

She was getting ahead of herself.

Her shadow moved, twisting itself to materialise by her shoulder.

“Darling.” Her husband sighed. “Perhaps it is time for you to go to bed.”

Kamui stared ahead blankly for a moment, before blinking slowly and nodding in agreement.

“Obito.” She whispered weakly, swaying on her feet. “I don’t feel well.”

She is not conscious enough to remember Obito shouting her name, or nearly hitting the floor.

…

Apparently, chakra depletion is not just for ninja.

“You must’ve used some getting through Gaara’s sand barrier, your body kicking into overdrive in a moment of panic.” Obito nodded thoughtfully. “For a ninja it would only be a small amount of their chakra reserves, nothing to them, but everything for a civilian. Staying awake for so long likely didn’t help matters.”

“You always say the nicest things to me dear.” She muttered, running a hand over her face and sitting up in the hospital bed.

“Are you going to go jumping into walls of sand again?”

“No.”

“Then you’re all the better for it.” He waved off, smiling back at her half-hearted glare. “You’ll be pleased to know that Gaara has woke up.”

“Is he well?” She asked, folding her hands in her lap and straightening her spine.

“Kaina and Hidan have examined the seal, and we’ve reached the conclusion that while the one-tail’s constant presence has been removed, Gaara still has access to quite a large amount of his chakra, especially for his size. It has been determined that trying to minimize the chakra stores will only lead to more damage for Gaara. His body has grown accustomed to the extra chakra, removing it now would kill him.”

“Then we won’t remove it.” Kamui nodded, staring down at her hands as she spoke.

“Leave us.” Her husband stated, the nurse lingering silently in the corner of the room quickly shuffling out, closing the curtain to give them privacy. “Kamui, darling, what plagues your mind to this extent?”

“Motherhood.” She answered honestly, sighing and resting her head against the wall behind her.

She did not have to see Obito to watch him still, to watch his shoulders freeze and tense, his hands completely still despite being halfway to reaching for her.

“Gaara cannot be our heir.” He said, his words chosen carefully.

“I know that.” The eleven years of imperial pressure and etiquette is the only thing that calms the harshness of her words. “As every year passes, the court becomes more inquisitive on the matter. I had hoped to ignore it for longer, but it seems our predicament with Gaara has put us into a position.”

Kamui was twenty-six, the court was beginning to become restless and the pressure to quell the rumours before they could completely rise was a constant pressure on her shoulders.

If the court heard Gaara calling her ‘Mother’ then they would not question it, many of the civilians surrounding the palace and beyond referred to her as the Imperial Mother, many young wards referred to their guardians as their parents. However, suspicions would slowly begin to rise higher than they were now, the court liked security, the people liked the security that once Kamui died than there was a seamless transition to her child.

What was an empire without a dynasty?

A doomed one.

Obito stood silently, watching her intently, unmoving and unyielding against the silence of the makeshift room. He did not blink at the sudden harsh undertone to her words, only tilting his head, his only visible eye briefly flashing red as he continued to watch her.

“What do you want me to do?” He said carefully, straightening marginally higher, his eye never moving away from her.

Kamui visibly slumped where she was sat, her eyes downcast to her hands.

“I don’t know.” She answered honestly.

Obito reached out, pulling her into a hug, his chin resting on the crown of her head.

“I’ll fix it.” He stated, Kamui closing her eyes and sinking more into the embrace. “I promise you.”

Her husband did not make such promises lightly.

…

“Mother.” Gaara greets from his own hospital bed when she walked through the parting curtain, and it takes everything within her not to recoil at the word.

“Who told you that Gaara?” She asked instead, take a seat at the end of the bed.

“The shinobi that escorted me out of my room told me that you were responsible for me. And my sibling explained everything while I was ill.”

“You’re sibling?”

She prayed that he meant Kankuro or Temari, though she highly doubted it.

Gaara only nodded pleasantly, and if he noticed how stiff everyone was being around him then he didn’t mention it.

“The red-haired lady said they are a god. They apologised a lot for calling themselves mother, but they were only trying there best until you came and got us. You’re here now, and sibling is on a time out because they were mean.”

He’s seven years old, and to a seven-year-old the situation made perfect sense.

“Sibling?” Kamui pressed gently.

“Sibling says they are above such concepts as gender.”

Of course, they did. Gods were never human, they were always above such concepts that they assigned to themselves.

“I’m not your mother Gaara.” She forced out, hating the way she could hear the trembling in her own voice. “I’m sorry.”

Gaara didn’t even blink, his pupilless eyes unnaturally wide as he stared back at her.

“I know you’re not.” He stated, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. “But you’re the closest thing I have, so you’ll have to do.”

He breaks her heart with every word. She had failed him, she had overlooked Sand in her desire to fix Fire. She had promised the gods that she would fix it and yet she had abandoned him to a parent they only saw him as a sharpened knife. She had abandoned him with a fault filled seal that would’ve eventually driven him mad from the foreign chakra and presence of a god on his developing brain.

She had failed him. More than his father, more than Sand. It was her that failed him the most.

“You don’t have to.”

On their own violation, her eyes burned, her head quickly snapping to the side to his it from the child in front of her. She was an Empress, her people worshipped her akin to a god, she would not shed tears over what a seven-year-old boy might call her.

“But I want to.”

Now it was Gaara that sounded uncertain, she could feel his eyes on her as she breathed out deeply.

“Okay.” She nodded, swallowing against the sudden urge to cry, to beg Gaara for his forgiveness. “Of course.”

She doesn’t expect the sudden hug, perhaps that is what makes it so much better.

…

Naruto stared.

Gaara stared back.

Obito and Kamui stared at both of them, as if waiting for a bomb to go off.

“Hi!” Naruto grinned, the sun shining behind him making him even brighter than usual. “I’m Naruto! You’re like me!”

They were still working on volume control.

Instead of replying, Gaara glanced towards Kamui nervously, quietly shuffling backwards when Naruto stepped forward.

Gaara’s social skill were poor, a shy and nervous child even in a calm environment, he was still prone to tempers when someone took his toys, though they were much less severe without the aide of a thousand-year-old god.

Though, Kamui didn’t expect him to change in four weeks, she never expected him to change really. Except for the temper, that she could work on.

“Naruto.” She said, lowering herself closer to their height. “Why don’t we go and show Gaara your drawings? And Gaara, you can show Naruto your new plants?”

“But they’re my plants.”

“What have we told you about sharing Gaara?”

“Mother.” When Kamui didn’t even blink at the subtle begging, the red head turned his attention to his slightly stricter parent in a desperate bid. “Father.”

“Gaara.” Obito spoke up, his mask absent from his face as it usually was when they were within the protection of the palace. “Naruto was speaking to you.”

Obito had easily shouldered the title, ruffling Gaara’s hair the first time the child had called him as such. Not even blinking when Gaara had reached for him in a national meeting two weeks ago, quickly tiring of the court’s condescending fussing.

(“Father.” He had said, after two weeks of not referring to Obito as anything, neither of them acknowledging as the ladies around them cooed dramatically at the title. “Father, I want to go.”)

“I’m Gaara.” The other child muttered, a blush creeping on his face as if he had completely forgotten about the other child stood in front of him. “I like my plants. I like the colour red.”

“Like Kamui-nee!” Naruto cheered happily, his grin unfaltering despite the blunt treatment. “I like orange, the teachers back home don’t like it but that makes it even better.”

“It looks alright on you.”

With Gaara, they were quickly learning, that was the closest you would ever get to a nice compliment. Despite this, Naruto visibly brightened even more, practically buzzing with the energy crackling below his skin.

“Thanks! You know, I was going to go with Karin to the temple and bother Hidan about his ninja technique. You should come with us! We can check out your god while we’re there!”

“Hidan is teaching chakra control and runes at the academy today.” She spoke up, watching them both with a smile. “So, I’m afraid the bothering will have to wait for when he’s done. Don’t forget that I remember that you were meant to be at  school today, Naruto.”

“I didn’t mean to get suspended.” Naruto pouted. “They deserved every prank I pulled on them, they said my jumper was ugly! Dattebayo!”

“You can prank ninja?” Two and a half sets of eyes landed on Gaara, Kamui blinking in surprise at the boy speaking up on his own.

“Hell yeah!” Naruto yelled, beginning to bounce on the spot. “I’m getting even better. Last time, I even managed to catch Kisame by surprise, and he’s really hard to sneak up on.”

“Could you sneak up on Sasori?” Gaara continued, his head tilting to the side in contemplation.

Oh gods no.

Kamui did not like where this was heading.

“Now wait a sec-”

“I’ve never tried, but we can definitely give it a go! Sasori’s a grumpy bastard, what did he do to make you want to prank him?”

“Boys please-“

“He took away my favourite tree for wood for his stupid puppets.”

“He apolo-”

“We’ll have to recruit Karin for this.” Naruto nodded seriously, grabbing Gaara’s hand. “Come on! I already have a plan, dattebayo!”

Gaara looked shocked at how easily Naruto invited physical contact, glancing quickly at Kamui before stumbling to keep up with Naruto’s sudden run, their hands still clasped together.

“We’ve got to stop them.” She breathed out in horror, watching them disappear in search of Karin.

“It’s a good exercise in stealth and teamwork.” Obito shrugged, watching them go with a grin. “I’ll be impressed if they do manage to catch him out, I was leaning towards the Hidan incident being pure luck and Hidan being arrogant, this will be a good test of their skills.”

“So, you’re not going to stop them from pranking him?”

“What prank?” Obito asked innocently, though the grin on his face never fell. “Naruto, Gaara and Karin are simply playing together. I never heard anything about a prank.”

“He’s going to go back to being a missing-nin.” She muttered to herself, trailing after her husband as he walked back inside.

…

The door to her office slammed open three hours later, Kamui glancing up from the paperwork while her husband didn’t even flinch.

“You’ve raised hellions.” Sasori hissed, his eyes full of rage and bright orange dust splashed lightly across his uniform. “Clever hellions, but hellions all the same.”

The Akatsuki member swiftly deposited two giggling children and one quiet one onto the floor.

“How did we even miss you?” Naruto demanded, quickly climbing to his feet and staring up at Sasori. “We had planted it so carefully and it always works perfectly back home.”

“I’m an Akatsuki, not some common Fire ninja.” Sasori stated, looking mildly offended by the implied comparison. “You’ll need to hide your chakra signature better than that if you wish to surprise me.”

“They still got you slightly.” Obito commented, turning a page in his folder with a small smile.

“I was curious.” Sasori huffed, dark eyes landing on a quiet Gaara. “You’re attempt at vengeance for your tree was adequate.”

“Thank you.” Gaara muttered, shuffling his feet awkwardly as he stood up, accepting Karin’s poor attempt for a high five.

Sasori’s eyes narrowed slightly, looking the boy up and down.

Kamui knew very little about Sasori’s life back in Sand, and her longest serving Akatsuki member was very quiet about what he witnessed there when he had nearly been killed by the one-tailed seven years ago. Nowadays, Sasori spent most of his time lecturing at the academy, preferring to teach the graduates and expand their skills rather than teach the fundamentals to the young ones, or modifying his many puppets. Other times, he was debating art with Deidara, or sparring with Hidan.

Sasori had some vague relationship with the Sand royal family, something about his grandmother if she recalled correctly. He never spoke of it. He had been unusually quiet, even for him, since Gaara had arrived a month ago, shut down in his workshop even more.

Kamui wondered if he held some sort of guilt for what he had caused for the boy, the same as she did.

“I will teach you how to completely hide your chakra signature.” Sasori nodded sternly, his eyes locked on Gaara. “You show at least a smidge of competency, at that is more than can be said for those two.”

“Eh! You teme-”

“Sasori! You’re so mean-”

While Naruto and Karin scrambled to shout over each other, Kamui watched Gaara carefully. She watched the small boy nod carefully in response to Sasori’s backwards invitation. Watched him smile when Karin drew him in for a one-armed hug, watched him brighten minutely when Naruto swung his arms around both of them, the small boy sticking himself in the middle of the duo.

It was the happiest Kamui had seen him for the first time in his stay.

With Gaara, they had a long way to go, but for the first time, the mountain seemed climbable.

…

“We have a problem.” Kamui didn’t even blink at the hurried words, glancing quickly from Obito then back to Gaara.

“Why don’t you see what Karin is doing, my love?” She hummed softly to the child, running her fingers through his deep red hair with a soft smile. “I will join you later.”

“Yes, Mother.” Gaara nodded quickly, taking his drawing off of the table and quietly leaving the room, pouting as Obito ruffled his hair on the way out.

“Play nicely.” Obito reminded him as Gaara softly shut the door behind him.

“What is our apparent problem?” She asked, turning her head to face him.

Obito scowled lowly, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, and his jaw locked.

“It’s not so much as a what, more of a who.” He stated. “I went to drop off Naruto, but took a detour to the Uchiha compound, I couldn’t help but think that… maybe if we revealed me to the Uchiha clan then they would be more welcoming to the idea of an heir for us, even if they did have the sharingan. And if they didn’t like it then we could convince them. I wasn’t going to do anything without your approval, I swear my darling. I just wanted to run some surveillance on them before we made contact.”

Her husband was always very clever.

Cunning, an expert tactician, an untraceable spy.

“And how has this become a problem?”

Obito didn’t say anything, only began silently reaching towards his right.

Kamui watched carefully as his arm dematerialised in the thin air up to his elbow, the power of his bloodline shining in his only eye. Instead of pulling out a scroll like she had expected, Kamui felt both of her eyebrows silently raise in shock as her husband instead pulled out a struggling dark-haired teenager from seemingly nowhere.

He wasn’t a child, and the fat still around his cheeks meant that he wasn’t an adult either, still too small.

“Who is this?” She asked calmly, quickly burying her shock under a blank expression.

The boy stilled suddenly at the sound of another voice, black eyes slowly turning to her, staring at her calculatingly from behind his long dark hair. There was nothing about his features that interested Kamui, she was too busy staring at the Konoha headband tied across his forehead.

“This.” Obito hissed, raising the boy slightly higher, unphased by the kicks that just passed through his physical body as if he was made of thin air, though the annoyance was clear on his unmasked face. “Is our problem. He’s otherwise known as Itachi Uchiha.” At the mention of his name, the Uchiha heir stilled once more, glaring coldly at Obito. “Now,” As the boy had stilled, her husband turned to him, distaste clear on his face. “You idiot of a child pretending to be a man. Why don’t you explain to my lovely wife why I just had to stop you from beginning to massacre your entire clan?”

Chapter Text

“Massacre the clan?” Kamui asked, her eyes narrowing as Obito dropped the Uchiha heir to the floor unceremoniously. “The Uchiha are quite numerous, that’s a lot of people to go through.”

“I did it to protect everyone.” Itachi hissed, his hands tightening around his sword, his eyes swimming with red as he stared at them both. “And you’re not going to stop me.”

Kamui only smiled sweetly, taking a measured step back as the Uchiha heir began to race forward, the sword he had poised ready to draw blood.

He never got close enough.

Before she could blink, her husband grabbed the other Uchiha by the neck, easily kicking the sword out of his reach before it could reach anything near her.

“You’re an idiot.” Her husband hissed, shaking him by the scuff of his neck. “Is this what they breed for good Uchiha these days? Has the incest muddled your brain? What is wrong with you?”

Smothering her laughter with a small cough, Kamui inclined her heads at her husband’s antics, though her eyes remained fixed on Itatchi as she spoke.

“Let him go darling, he’s only a child.”

“He’s probably  killed more people than an average child can count.” Obito countered, still holding Itachi in a death grip, his only eyed narrowed as he studied the boy. “Why a massacre? Go on. I’m practically shaking to hear the ridiculous amount of reasoning this is going to need.”

“Who are you?” Itachi snapped back, still struggling in Obito’s unyielding grip. “You have a sharingan, but you’re not a member of the clan.”

“I’m afraid you’re not exactly in a position to be demanding answers from us, Uchiha.” Kamui spoke up, settling into her chair behind her desk, watching as her husband shoved the younger Uchiha into the opposite chair, continuing to stand behind him even though his grip loosened slightly. “Now, my husband tells me you were trying to massacre your clan. Why?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“You can chose to tell me Itachi Uchiha, or my husband can make you tell me. I would say that the choice is yours, but the outcome is the same either way.”

Itachi fell silent slumping in his chair, dark eyes flickering with an emotion even Kamui could not name.

“The Uchiha were planning a coup.” He mumbled after several tense minutes. “It was the only way to save Konoha.”

“So, you’re telling us, that is an acceptable reason for you to massacre every single one of them.” Obito hissed, leaning close to Itachi’s face with a scowl. “The only person you really had to kill was your father, you’re meant to be smart, stage it as an accident. Kill your father, replace him, send the council into an early retirement. Integrate more with the village. Move the clan. A thousand ideas that don’t involve the need to kill every single one of them.”

“Darling…” Kamui trailed off, her eyes drifting towards her husband as he turned to her, exasperation clear on his face.

“He’s an idiot.” Her husband hissed, as if that justified the amount he was screaming into the boy’s ear.

It probably did.

“Why did the Uchiha Clan want a coup?” She asked instead, her eyes resting on the sullen heir.

“The Elder’s a pressuring for it.” He answered. “They feel disregarded by the village, they want to feel powerful once more, no longer on the sidelines and disregarded by the civilians.”

“And you think you can fix it by killing them all? Destroying the evidence? Murder all the future conspirators in their cots?”

For all the cold façade Itachi was displaying, he twitched slightly at that, his fingers flexing and dark eyes darting away for a split second. To anyone else it would display as frustration for all the questioning, but Kamui could already see the guilt clawing at his throat for an act he hadn’t yet done.

“Who told you to do this, Uchiha?” She said, tilting her head and watching him carefully. “Because you are horrified by this act, someone else has told you to do this.”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“But you will.” Obito spoke up, bending at the waist so he was eye level with the boy. “Whether willingly or not, you will start talking.”

“Why do you care what the Uchiha do on the other half of the nation?” Itachi replied, deceptively calm in his own questioning.

“We do not particularly care if you coup or not.” Kamui shrugged, ignoring the way her husbands cold eyes slowly slid to her. “But I appreciate the sentiment of not willing to betray your senior authority to two strangers. So, Uchiha, I will make you a deal. If the rumours are true then you’re a smart young man, surely you can see a deal is your best option?”

“What do you want?” Itachi is cold and blunt, but Kamui could see him wavering in his seat.

“I want you to not kill your clan, I want you to go to this mysterious authority and ask for time to arrange your affairs. I’m sure not committing mass murder is ideal for you.” She leaned back in her seat, tilting her head as she watched him. “If you are as smart as they say you are, you’d go and tell them that the plan was ridiculous to begin with. However, I think we’ve already established that you’re not as smart as they say you are.”

“And in return?”

“What will make you trust us enough to tell us?” She replied. “A quid pro quo per say. I’m a fair ruler Uchiha, I will do something for you, and you will do something for me. Of course, if you find these terms unagreeable, I’m certain my husband will take immense joy in forcing those answers out of you.”

“Agree, or be tortured?” Itachi asked, sneering slightly as he stared back at her. “I thought you said you were a fair ruler?”

“Alas,” Kamui smiled sweetly. “I am not your ruler.”

Itachi paused for a moment, glancing between them both as if to ascertain whether or not they were being serious.

“There’s a body  in Naka River.” Itachi finally said, Kamui’s singular raised eyebrow the only sign of her shock. “It has no eyes. Find them, and I’ll tell you everything.”

…

“Gaara.” Kamui called, offering out her hand with a small as the boy stepped to join her in the veranda overlooking the gardens. “Are you enjoying your lessons?”

“Kisame makes everything look easy, even though its not.”

“Kisame has been practicing for longer than you have drawn breath.” She remarked, running her hand through his blood red hair. “He has had time to make it look easy.”

“It’s unfair.”

“As is many things in life darling.” Her lips picked up at his pout, watching him slouch as he stood next to her. “Kisame mentioned you were interested in politics?”

“Kisame is a liar.” Gaara sneered, wind picking up slightly around him as his eyes brightened.

A child with the temper of a god.

Gaara would always be dangerous, perhaps that’s why she liked him so much.

“Walk with me.” She stated instead, stepping off of the raised veranda and onto the stone path of the garden, walking in the direction of the lake, Gaara walking quietly next to her.

“It would not be a terrible thing, if you were interested in politics.” She stated, keeping her gaze straight ahead. “You’re nearly eight, many noble children begin their training much earlier.”

Next to her, barely reaching her forearm, Gaara was silent, staring ahead so solemnly it was almost humorous that the expression belonged to a child.

“Mother?”

“Yes, dearest?”

“Do you wish for me to control Sand?”

The question made Kamui stop suddenly, her head whipping to the side to look at Gaara intently. She would be a liar if she said that the thought had never occurred to her, to have influence in Sand in the form of the red-haired boy she had take in. The possibilities for future international trade deals, the influence on domestic policy, the stability and free movement for their people.

The borders of her empire had never felt so small.

Kamui blinked and the thought was gone, disappearing with the wind as she tilted her head at the small boy.

“Who told you that?”

She would have their head for such ambitions, to place the pressure of an empires ambitions on the shoulders of a seven-year-old was completely unfair.

“The court talks when they think I can’t hear them. They talk about you, they talk about me, mostly they talk about heirs.”

Damn heirs, damn court, Kamui should have shoved them off their pedestal years ago.

“The court fears for their future, they wish for stability and long-term prospects we have not given them.”

“But it’s peaceful here, it’s nice.” Gaara looked at her in confusion as she lowered herself to the ground to be at an equal height with him. “Why would they not be happy?”

“Sometimes, no matter what you do, people will not be happy.” She hummed, brushing the hair out of Gaara’s eyes. “The crown is a heavy burden Gaara, one that we must always wear with dignity.”

“You’re sad.” Gaara continued, looking even more confused as the wind picked up around them. “I don’t like it when you’re sad Mother. I can eat them if you wish.”

“We don’t eat people anymore, Gaara.” She insisted, forcing herself to remain neutral even as a smile flickered across her lips. “Remember?”

“Yes, Mother.” Gaara paused for a moment, considering with a head tilt that mirrored Kamui’s own. “Would it make you happy, if I ruled Sand?”

“That is a long way off, dearest.” Kamui waved off, rising to her feet. “Whatever you grow to be, I would be happy for you.”

“But you would be happiest if I controlled Sand?”

“It would make Moon happy Gaara, that does not mean it would make me happy. I will be happiest to see you live a long and fulfilled life full of joy.”

“I’m the youngest.” Gaara stated suddenly, as if he was trying to convince himself that it was a terrible idea.

“And I am the daughter of farmers.” Kamui shrugged, brushing her fingers over his cheek. “Stranger things have happened than the youngest taking power. Besides, my darling Gaara,” her gaze darkened even if her smile was bright, “you are the vessel of a god.”

He gaze turned towards the direction of the lake, staring at nothing for a moment, pale eyes dark and dirt on the cobblestones drifting closer to him, as if attracted by his power.

“Think about it dearest.” She finally said, placing a kiss on top of his forehead while he remained silent. “Why don’t you go and find Karin? She should be finished with her own lessons by now.”

…

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Kisame and Deidara return with the body they found in Naka river. Having left for Fire in the early hours of the morning and not returning until the dawn the next day.

There’s only one problem.

A dead body isn’t exactly dead if it’s still breathing.

By some miracle, even though the body had been floating in the river for three days, they were still breathing. Deidara had managed to stabilise him on the scene, and the apparently lost him two times on the way back to Moon. However, the fact remained, that the heavily bandaged body resting on the hospital bed in front of her, was alive.

Kamui stared at them in astonishment, glancing from her husband to the foreign shinobi on the bed.

“Well,” She began uncertainly, resting a hand on the edge of the hospital cot. “This changes thing.”

“He’s staying.” Obito insisted, his hands clenched at his sides, eyes dark as he stared at the boy.

“Itachi is not likely to agree.” She pointed out, eyes tracing over the bandages. “It’s unlikely he will live through the night.”

“He’ll live.” Her husband insisted, running a scarred hand over his face as he sighed. “Damn Uchiha.”

“Why are we so invested if they kill each other?” She asked, turning her head to look at him. “I offered Itachi that deal knowing how invested you were, but in the end what difference does it make to us if the Uchiha tear themselves down?”

The idea of murdering children had never been something Kamui could swallow, but how her husband had acted when questioning Itachi had been something far more than just that.

“Because it means that someone has a vested interest in seeing all of the Uchiha gone if their deciding to kill babes in their beds.” He stated, his one dark eye meeting hers. “That means it’s only going to be a matter of time before they connect the dots and start hunting us as well.”

Us and our heirs.

On a technicality, Kamui she supposed that she was an Uchiha as well, gaining the name by marriage. Uchiha Kamui. It took everything in her to not sneer at the thought of changing her name. Ever since she had stepped into court, she had been Kamui no Chaba, and that was the name with which she would die.

“I did not realise it was so dangerous to be an Uchiha.” She remarked instead. “I would’ve married someone else.”

Obito’s dark gaze slid to her with a deadpan expression.

“I love you too dearest.” He said flatly.

With a slight laugh, Kamui turned back towards the hospital bed.

“What are we going to tell Itachi?”

“The truth, and I hope he chokes on the weight of it.”

She hummed, quietly stepping to the head of the bed, quietly hearing shallow breaths. Silent as she heard Obito turn on his heel and march out of the hospital ward, slamming the door shut behind him.

Her husband cared deeply about this foreign ninja, even if he had not told her as such.

Kamui examined the ninja on the bed, grimacing at the blood-soaked bandages wrapped around his eyes, the dented Konoha head plate resting on the oak bedside his unconscious form. His lips blue, his body unnaturally thin, muscles atrophied, his skin wrinkled and peeling from the three days he had spent lost in the Naka River.

Deidara says he would’ve jumped, that this couldn’t be an accident.

She could only consider what must’ve happened to make him think that jumping into Naka River was the only option left.

Perhaps that is why her husband furious.

Konoha, building their shinobi so young that they could no longer think rationally, that they were forever scarred from having to mature too early. She wondered what propaganda they must feed them to make them think that it was okay. That it was right. That it was that damned Will of Fire.

His eyes, if he had any, would be red.

Obito wants him to stay, so stay he shall.

His name is apparently Shisui, and he’s a pretty little thing, Kamui is certain that she could find some use for him.

Chapter Text

Kamui stared at the hospital bed.

Shisui did not move.

“I know you can hear me.” She stated, eyes narrowing at the body in the bed. Hidan had indicated as much when he had left the room to pray at the temple, that Shisui was awake, that he was aware of what was happening. “There is no use of either of us pretending otherwise.”

Still, the Konoha shinobi refused to move, to indicate that he was aware of his surroundings, of whether or not he was actually alive.

Kamui resisted the sudden urge to drag him out from the bed by his hair, that would be certain to illicit a reaction. However, she was empress, she did not succumb to childish antics.

Instead, Kamui took a seat close to the bed, dark eyes fixed on the unmoving boy, ankles crossed over each other and head tilted in consideration as she spoke.

“If you continue to pretend to be dead, I will have no choice but to order the death of Uchiha Itachi as soon as he sets foot into the palace.” She stated coldly, lips picking up as the figure finally twitched. “Because if you play dead like this, I’ll have no choice but to assume that you are dead. I’m sure I can fabricate enough evidence, circumstantial or otherwise, that makes all the arrows point towards the Uchiha heir. Leaving me no choice but to have him killed on sight. Murder is quite the international crime, though you Konoha shinobi always see yourself as above such things as international law.”

After a long tense silence, the body on the bed twitched, his head tilting to the side where Kamui was sitting, following the sound of her voice where she spoke.

“I can’t sense you.” A small voice spoke up from amongst the bandages, strained, weak and confused. “Why can’t I sense you?”

For a small moment, Kamui’s heart broke for him, empty sockets twitching as he tried to locate her, deprived of two senses. He could not locate her with his eyes, he could not locate her by her chakra, likely too tired to sense the brief smudge of dulled chakra that she contained as a civilian.

He sounded so young, and so scared, for a singular moment Kamui wants to hold his head in her arms and soothe all his woes.

Sharp nails dig into the flesh of her palm, jolting her out of the sensation.

No matter what her husband said, Uchiha Shisui was still an unknown variable. The enemy. A leaf ninja indoctrinated by the Will of Fire and capable, with or without his eyes, of taking everything away that she held dear.

“You’re still too weak to sense a chakra signature as weak as a civilian.” She sighed, allowing a brief moment of pity for the boy. “When you are stronger you will sense me, but not yet. Apologies, I have yet to introduce myself. I am Empress Kamui of Moon. And you are Uchiha Shisui, I believe that you are fourth in line for the Uchiha title? No matter. You are here at the request of Uchiha Itachi and remain alive at the mercy of my husband.”

“Why would your husband want me alive?”

“That is for him to disclose.” She waved off, the action lost on the sightless man. “But let me assure you of this Uchiha, you remain alive by, and only by, the request of my husband. If you step out of line, if you breath out of line, if you even dare to think out of line, I will have you executed. You are far more valuable to me dead than alive Uchiha, remember that before you dare go against me or my children.”

“Not like I can do much bandaged up in a hospital bed.” Shisui remarked, his voice strained and quiet. “A bit overkill, threatening me, don’t you think?”

“You never know with Leaf ninja, too much of that damned Will of Fire.” She muttered, folding her hands together as she watched him carefully. “Uchiha Itachi will arrive to check that we have upheld our end of the bargain tomorrow evening, try your best to remain alive until then.”

She stood up, purposefully stepping slightly harder on her heel as she walked so that Shisui could hear her walking away.

“Wait.”

She paused at the sound of his voice, as weak and quiet as it was, laying a jewelled had  hand on the metal rungs of the hospital bed, wordlessly acknowledging his request with the chime of her rings upon the metal.

“He didn’t do it?” Shisui asked, his voice trembling slightly. “He didn’t kill the clan?”

“No.” She replied flatly, dark eyes narrowing marginally. “He did not.”

“You don’t understand-”

“I understand perfectly Uchiha.” She interrupted, her hand lifting off the metal rung of the bed as she turned on her heel. “And one day you will thank me for this mercy. Or you will die gravelling at my feet for my mercy. Either way, the end point is the same."

“Listen-”

“No, Uchiha, I will not listen to your likely weak justification for genocide.” She was already halfway to the door when she called back to him. “This conversation is over. Rest. Gather strength. The Uchiha heir will be here soon enough.”

…

“Mother.”

Kamui vaguely considered how her hands were still trembling as the maid painted the red dye back onto her fingers.

“Yes, darling?”

The red dye had to be painted back onto her fingers once every month to keep the colour vibrant and bold, a sign to everyone that she never committed any manual labour. Once, before the empire, before the crown, it had been the sign of concubines. To draw attention to their hands as they danced and preformed ceremonies. When she had ascended the throne, and kept the dye on her fingers, it had quickly become popular among the court to show their wealth and prosperity.

Kamui simply found the practice comforting, the colour constantly attached to her very skin.

“There’s a Konoha ninja in the hospital wing.”

It wasn’t a question, yet she answered it like one anyway.

“There is, darling.” She paused for a moment, turning away from the maids practiced movements to look at Gaara. “How do you know he’s from Konoha?”

At this he scrunched his noise, his youthful face distorting for a moment.

“He smells like a forest burning down.” Gaara looked at her intensely for a moment. “Can I eat him?”

They both ignored the way the maid visibly flinched.

“Maybe.” She replied, a small smile tugging on her lips. “Why don’t you go and ask your Father?”

“He’s not here.” Gaara scowled.

“You can wait.” She waved off briefly, nodding in thanks to the maid as the girl quietly gathered her supplies and left the room. Her job finished. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Mother.”

“Gaara.” She mimicked, smiling briefly as he scowled. “We do not whine, we are the imperial family, whining is below us.”

Gaara opened his mouth only to close it again, shuffling on his feet in mild embarrassment.

“Yes, Mother.”

“Come.” She said softly, gesturing to the seat next to her. “I can practically see your curiosity, what do you truly wish to ask?”

“Why is he here?”

“Truthfully, he is here for a reason that is not suitable for children to hear, much less to understand.”

“I am not a child, I am a god.”

“You are both, my darling.” Kamui hummed softly in agreement. “The chakra the runs through your very blood is thousands of years old, capable of many great things. But you? My darling Gaara, you are so young. It is my job as your parent to make decisions on what you should know, and what you should not.”

Gaara stopped for a moment, tilting his head as he thought. An unfortunate habit he had likely picked up from her.

“They think I’m evil, don’t they? Because I’m a god, because of what I did.”

Kamui stopped, slowly turning away from examining the fresh dye on her fingers to stare at him blankly.

“Who told you that?”

“Mother-”

“Gaara, who said-”

“It doesn’t matter!” He exploded, green eyes flickering for a second as he turned to her viciously. “It doesn’t matter who said it because they all think it! The messengers from Sand are terrified of me, and so is that Konoha ninja in the hospital bed. I can smell it on them. They think I’m evil, mother.”

It was not the first time Gaara had shouted at her, and it certainly won’t be the last. However, Kamui felt slightly lost for words as she stared at the tears Gaara was desperately trying to blink away.

Her Gaara. Her beautiful, tragic boy. So intelligent. So sweet. Yet, no matter how sweet Gaara could be, there was always something incredibly off about him too. Something that sent a bell ringing in everyone’s mind when he said something a seven-year-old child definitely should not say. His eyes were too bright, his canines too sharp, the scarred kanji on his forehead too disheartening.

Obito was too strong, too intwined with his chakra to ever really care the chakra he wielded to control his sharingan and his gift too similar for him to ever notice. The staff in the palace had slowly acclimatised enough that it was no longer an issue.

And Kamui?

Kamui had destroyed that stupid bell with her bare hands the moment Gaara had looked her in the eyes and named her Mother.

“Do you think I’m evil?” She asked instead, reaching an arm out too him as he slowly slumped into her side. “I have done many things to deserve the title. And many of those same people fear me as well. Would you say that I am evil?”

“No.” Gaara sounded perplexed by the mere suggestion. “Mother, that’s silly question.”

“Yet, you just said that all those things made you evil. If that is what makes you evil, shouldn’t I be as well?”

Gaara was silent, staring with weary eyes at the intricate carvings on the chair across from them.

With a heavy sigh, Kamui wrapped her arms around him, her chin lightly resting on the top of his head.

“Guilt over what you have done, and guilt over what you may do, is useless darling. The only thing we can do is prove that we are capable. Capable to rule, capable of forgiveness and to be forgiven in return.”

“Mother, you’ve never done anything terrible that needed forgiveness.”

For a moment, the old daimyo’s face flashed across her eyes, the small hand reaching out of the rubble of Konoha, a five-year-old Naruto that couldn’t understand why everyone hated him, and her grip on Gaara tightened minutely.

“You’d be surprised.”

…

When she entered the hospital wing, the Uchiha heir was already seated next to the hospital bed of Shisui. Her husband, on the other hand, stood a few paces away from the edge of the bed, watching with detached interest as the two Uchiha’s united.

Though, Kamui considered, technically they were all Uchiha.

One big happy Uchiha reunion.

How fun.

“I see that we are all on the same page finally.” She smiled tensely. “A joyous occasion. Especially now we’ve all agreed not to murder innocent children, was it truly so hard?”

Itachi was silent, staring at her blankly while Obito snickered under his breath, shoulders drawing in as he turned to the side.

“What?” She blinked innocently, turning to her husband with a singular raised eyebrow.

“Nothing.” Obito coughed, looking slightly sheepish. “I just love you very much.”

“I love you too, dearest.” She hummed, turning back to the two Uchiha cousins. “Now that we’ve retrieved your cousin, would you like to add anything else to your list of demands?”

“The sharingan eye.” Itachi spoke up, his eyes focused on Obito. “It’s our bloodline. If anyone deserves it, it is Shisui.”

“Are the Uchiha truly so arrogant?” Kamui remarked, her eyebrows raised as she turned to look between Itachi and her husband. “Or are they truly so dim? Darling, it truly is a mystery to your success.”

“I’m not stupid.” Itachi snapped back, pulling away from Shisui’s placating hand. “He has a sharingan, Shisui needs an eye, it’s only fair that he returns it to the rightful family it belongs to. In return, we wont question where he got it from.”

“So, you truly are that dim.” She decided, black eyes narrowed as the stared back unyielding at the Uchiha heir. “My husband will not be returning anything.”

“Kamui, darling.” Obito said, cutting Itachi off before he had the chance to speak. “The secret to my success is that I’m not inbred, unlike these two.”

For a moment Itachi was silent. Glancing between the two of them, eyes flickering up to Obito’s dark hair and to the red on Kamui’s fingertips.

“You’re an Uchiha.” He realised, staring at Obito in confusion. “But how is that possible? No Uchiha is ever born out of Konoha.”

“Your chakra.” Shisui chimed in weakly, holding himself up on shaking limbs as he used one of the only senses he had left. “It’s familiar.”

Kamui and Obito slowly turned to each other, Kamui raising a single eyebrow in a silent question while Obito sighed heavily.

“You know,” her husband started, calmly sitting on the very edge of the hospital bed. Itachi and Kamui both watching him carefully, though for entirely different reasons. “I am slightly offended that you don’t remember me. But you were very young then, very young when I disappeared. Gran used to make me look after you while your parents were away on missions. Something  about caring for the younger clansmen, but I think she just liked me to suffer.” Her husband leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he spoke. Beneath the bandages, Kamui could slowly see Shisui’s suspicious face transform to one of shock and horror. “I’d take you to the park, and you always demanded that you went on the swings, and then practice your aim with one of your new practice darts. You always beat me. I always let you win.”

“Obito-nii?” Shisui eventually choked out, blood-stained tears leaking through the bandages. “Obito, you’re meant to be dead. I’ve seen your grave, I kept having to drag that bloody drunk Hatake off of it.”

“Sorry to disappoint, kid.” Obito hummed, Kamui placing a hand on his shoulder, calmly soothing away the tension there. “Definitely not dead. Did get crushed by that rock though. That wasn’t great. Got trained by Madara, got married, took over a country. It’s a long story.”

“Madara’s meant to be dead.” Itachi said flatly, looking more and more confused.

“Apparently a lot of people are meant to be dead according to Konoha.” She commented, entwining her fingers with Obito’s as his hand reached up towards her. “It’s not exactly our fault that they’re wrong. So, as you can see, my husband is quite tired of giving out his eyes. Once is enough. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“You married her.” Shisui spat, as if the word tasted like poison in his blood-filled mouth. “You went from being obsessed with kind, innocent, sweet Rin Nohara, to marrying the Red Empress? Ruthless, scheming, and ex-whore, Kamui no Chaba? Obito? Obito, what the fuck?”

“I wasn’t a whore, I was a concubine.” Kamui frowned, tilting her head in confusion. “Am I supposed to be offended? Darling, is he trying to insult me?”

Obito’s smile was frozen solid, his singular eye blank as he reached out to grab Shisui’s only unbandaged hand.

“Of course not, darling.” He said calmly, his fingers tightening around the exposed skin. “You’ve not forgotten your manners when you took a tumble of that cliff, have you?”

Kamui swore she could hear something snap, her eyes moving to the stunned Uchiha heir who sat frozen and helpless in his chair.

 “Apologies.” Shisui spat out through gritted teeth, Obito immediately dropping his hand.

“I suggest that you both start talking.” Obito hissed, a singular red eye narrowed as it snapped between the two Uchiha boys. If Shisui had any eyes, Kamui would say that he and Itachi exchanged a glance. The Uchiha heir, shifting nervously and shaking his head slightly. Obito’s only eye narrowed further. “Or we can expedite you to the Fire Daimyo for breaking international law, and we’ll find out anyway.”

“We didn’t break any international law.”

“Oh, sir, it was so horrible.” Kamui gasped, snapping her fan open, nervously fanning herself as a few tears slipped from her eyes. “They just charged for me with a knife- I was so scared. I’m- I’m not sure I should continue my alliance with you sir. It’s just- your shinobi are obviously unstable.” Snapping her red fan shut once more, Kamui glanced between them both innocently. “Do you think something like that would do, darling?”

“That’s a big international law, attempting to murder a ruler.” Obito nodded, a smile picking up on his face as Kamui leant over his shoulder, their fingers entwining. “And it would be our word against yours. Well, our word, and the word of the entire palace staff as well as the fifty active Moon shinobi, and all members of the Akatsuki currently on site. Now. Start. Talking.”

And, oh, did they start talking.

Chapter Text

It’s not a fun story.

Though, Kamui considered solemnly, stories that were meant to end with genocide are never supposed to be fun.

She doesn’t even flinch when her husband turned on his heel, marching out of the room with a clenched jaw, gloved hands twitching as he threw open the doors. She doesn’t let the impassive mask fall as she regarded the two Uchiha on the hospital bed, one covered completely in blood-stained bandages, the other looking as if he were torn between crying or killing her.

She blinked slowly, the oak doors slamming shut with a heavy bang. Instead of speaking, she let her head tilt slightly to the left, regarding the Uchiha heirs sat before her carefully. To his credit, unlike many men far more experienced than him, Itachi Uchiha did not flinch under her impassive gaze, staring back at her with an equal sense of detached coldness.

“You would commit the greatest sin that there is, to save a village that has outcasted you?” She asked, stepping forward to rest her jewelled hand on the edge of the hospital bed.

“To save the many I would do anything.”

“Oh, you think you’re so clever…” She cooed softly. “To damn yourself for all eternity for killing your own blood. For what? For a village that would do nothing to save you from the knives of the hundred mercenaries that you will be outcasted with?”

“I will live. I’m prepared to survive as a missing-nin.”

“Not long enough. Never long enough to outrun the wrath of the gods.”

“It’s a good thing I don’t believe in your old gods then.”

“A fool.” She cooed once more, a smile tugging on red painted lips as he gritted his teeth. “You can chose not to believe all you like Uchiha, that does not make them any less real. However,” her eyes shifted to glance at Shisui for a quick moment. “You seem like a boy that will listen to reason. How can you not believe in gods, when you have seen the wrath of one blaze the ground around you? When you have seen one fill the entire sky above your head? When there is a man who can rip out his heart from his chest and continue to live?”

“The Kyuubi is a being of chakra.” He stated stubbornly.

“What is chakra if not divine power?” She retorted. “Are we not their children? Is this not how they show you love? By giving you divine power?”

“Then you’re just worshipping a concept that doesn’t love you back.” Itachi snapped back, nearly leaping out of his seat with the force with which he stood. “By your own words, they don’t love you back. If they did, you would be a kunoichi, not just a civilian with a shiny headpiece.”

Kamui’s smile faded slowly, eyes darkening for a small moment as she regarded him carefully. Silently, her eyes moved, gazing calmly to the empty space on Itachi’s right.

“Deidara, dear.” She hummed, folding her hands into the sleeves of her kimono. “Put the kunai away, they are still guests.”

Itachi’s head snapped to his left, dodging the experimental slash of the kunai before Deidara put it away.

“Insulting the Empress is a crime.” Deidara said stiffly, eyes narrowed as he regarded Itachi coldly. “Obito sent for me.”

Kamui hummed quietly, nodding to herself softly.

“As you’ve so politely put it Uchiha, I am only a civilian with a shiny headpiece.” She said brightly, the rage that had so briefly appeared in her eyes disappearing like the flicker of a flame in harsh wind. “However, unlike you, I am, above all, understanding. Between you two, you will tell Deidara everything that you can recall about Danzo’s hideout. Location, layout, entrances, exits, guard rotations. You’re apparently quite clever, perhaps its time to put it to use.”

“Why would we do that?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Deidara spoke up, uncurling his palms as the mouths on his hands practically salivated. “We’re going to bomb it to the ground.”

…

It didn’t take long to find Obito.

He paced the length of the office, arms folded across his chest, a single black eye staring at nothing, though she could practically see the cogs turning in his head.

“Deidara was a good choice.” She started, watching his pacing continue without pause. “He’s been practically itching to blow something up.”

“And we would make Danzo a martyr.” He replied, his only eye fixated to the floor. “We can destroy his hideout and make sure it doesn’t come back to us, but that doesn’t help our root problem of him.”

“We kill him and then it’s too obvious.” She agreed, running a hand across the oak desk absentmindedly. “If you keep pacing, you’re going to wear a hole into that lovely carpet.”

“I’ll get you another one.” Obito muttered, though she could see the corner of his lips tilt up.

“Darling.” She sighed, offering out both her hands. Palms up, as if she were offering tea or a sacrifice to the gods. “Come here.”

Her husband did not need to be asked twice, immediately taking both of her hands with his, head hung low, his only eye fixed to the floor. Another long sigh. Instead of speaking she manoeuvred their hands so that hers was wrapped around his, resting them lightly on the centre of her chest. Following the gentle movement, he stepped forward, forehead resting against hers.

“What makes you so upset, dearest?” Kamui asked, eyes lifting to look at him. “Tell me. Tell me, and I will fix it.”

“This cannot be fixed.”

“Oh, darling…” She trailed off for a moment, considering. “Don’t say such things. Tell me, you always say I am quite clever, maybe I will enlighten you.”

Obito sighed, drawing his head back to stare despairingly at the ceiling instead.

“How can one village go so wrong?”

“Terrible leadership and economic devastation due to war and the attack by the nine tails.” Kamui answered without a pause. “Though, I doubt you wanted the clinical answer.”

“Danzo will want the entire clan dead eventually. He’s obviously already made up his mind. What then? What about after he kills them all? What does that mean for us? Even if we bomb his base to the ground and kill him, it would be easy to point the figure at us. That would lead to an all-out war. People die. In every scenario, innocent people die.”

“We’re not going to let innocent people die.”

“We already have.”

Kamui fell silent, tightening her grip on his hands as he stared at the ceiling.

“Look at me.” Obito complied immediately. “What happened to wanting to burn Konoha to the ground?”

“I grew up.” Obito retorted quickly, a smile picking up on his lips. “Didn’t you hear? I’m married with two kids now. I’ve got responsibilities.”

“Does that maturity mean you’ve finally found it within yourself to forgive Hatake?”

“No.”

“I know it wont help everything, but would it help some things  if Danzo was dead?”

“Most likely.”

“Lovely.” She smiled brightly, tightening her grip on his hands before letting him go. “Consider it done.”

…

Despite what Obito claimed, Kamui was never actually that clever.

She had an eye for details certainly, she knew behavioural patterns and outcomes like the back of her hand, but she wasn’t clever.

Not like Obito who could plan for any eventuality, not like Sasori who could manipulate any argument to his advantage, not like any of her Akatsuki.

Kamui simply knew what she did well, and played it to her advantage, and one of the things she did quite well were poisons. Poisons that could kill you instantly, poisons that would leave you on the brink of death, begging for a release.

Poison to kill a daimyo, poison to kill a chancellor, poison to kill Shimura Danzo.

Long ago, when the empire had only been Tea, their strongest import had been tea leaves, the rich earth infamous for producing the best crops. Luscious, green and vibrant, that was what made Tea infamous.

Kamui had always found it interesting, the pretty plants everyone fawned over could become quite dangerous once ingested. She supposed it was for the best though, everyone only ever complimented her personal greenhouse, never questioning its true purpose.

She had not had to poison someone in years, not since she needed one of the lords to be absent from an event, a little of Lily of the Valley stirred into his drink and he was away from court for two weeks due to an unfortunate digestive upset.

Long enough so that she could convince the court of the benefits of mandatory education, moving the law into writing before he could come back and pressure them not to vote.

Removing Shimura Danzo from influence didn’t necessarily mean killing him, that was one thing her husband despite being so very clever could never quite wrap his head around. To shinobi, there was either life or death, there was nothing in between. However, she supposed that was understandable in their line of work: your enemy could fight, or your enemy was dead.

She would have to ingrain Naruto and Gaara with slightly more tact.

Maybe just Gaara. She adored him, but Naruto had the same amount of tact as his mother, essentially none.

Kamui’s hand brushed against the vibrant foxglove with a soft hum, considering her options as she looked over the plants. Nightshade and hemlock would be too obvious, they would think to look for that. She needed something to incapacitate him long enough so they could rip out all the power from under his feet. Yew? No. She wanted to make him bedbound, not mildly dizzy. Castor seeds? The ricin in them would certainly kill him, but there was no way she could sit him down and force feed him enough seeds for that to work.

She stopped, halfway through the small greenhouse, eyes falling to the deep flowerbed on the floor.

Rhubarb.

With a small smile, she knelt down, her usual heavy kimono absent in favour of a light red yukata.

As a child in the farmlands, rhubarb was a familiar friend, simple to grow, easy to eat. As a concubine, it had become a staple in their diet of nearly exclusively fruit, vegetables and bread. That’s the interesting thing about rhubarb, you can eat the stem and be perfectly happy. However, if you touched the leaves, only misery awaited.

Kidney failure, digestive problems, fatigue, the list was endless.

Just a few leaves could knock someone down for weeks, and if Danzo happened to ingest even more than that? Well, kidney failure wasn’t uncommon in men his age. Also, Kamui was certain that he had another one, and the last time she had checked, you only need one kidney to live.

Pulling on her gloves, Kamui grinned.

…

“I hear you’re leaving your cousin within our care.” She announced, her yukata rippling around her as she walked into the office, Itachi’s head snapping towards her as he slouched in the chair. “A smart choice from you finally.”

Itachi was silent, looking her up and down in surprise.

“I didn’t know you existed without the full formal attire.”

“A rare moment I can assure you.” She replied, folding her ankles and placing her hands on the desk as she sat. “My husband and I agree, while we will strategically destroy parts of Danzo’s compound, this will not solve all of our mutual problems. Danzo himself needs to be eliminated.”

“You can’t kill Danzo.” Itachi said, staring at her solemnly. “If there was a way, I would have tried it.”

“We can help each other Heir Uchiha, we are technically family after all.” Kamui hummed, placing the pouch on the table between them. “It’s been almost a week now, does no one notice you coming and going so often?”

“I’m a part of the ANBU, they just think I’m on covert missions.”

“They must be proud of you.”

“They’re only proud of the efficient weapon they’ve created. If it weren’t me, it would be Sasuke, and I can’t let that happen.”

“So let us help you.” She stated, leaning forward as Obito materialised behind her. “Let us help you so that this burden does not fall to your brother.”

Despite his cleverness, Itachi Uchiha was an open weeping heart for people he considered his close family. Despite what he had done, Kamui felt pity for him, young and misguided yet so clever, so full of potential. She could make him into something so much better.

“What do you want?”

Silently, Kamui placed the pouch on the desk in front of him. Watching him carefully as she withdrew her hand.

“Ever since we were aware of the massacre a week ago, we’ve had several Moon operatives quietly replace Danzo’s staff.” Obito began, resting his hand on the top of Kamui’s chair. “Not enough to draw attention to us, all with glowing recommendations from Rain and Sand. However, we cannot communicate with them on any level. Danzo runs a tight ship in his household, but he’s arrogant enough to overlook most of his cleaning staff. We need you to discreetly deliver this to them.”

“What is it?”

“Rhubarb leaves mainly, a few crushed daffodils, arum seeds.” Kamui listed. “As well as honey and apple.”

“It’s poison?”

“It’s tea.” She corrected. “Albeit, tea that is quite debilitating for the drinker, mimicking quite a terrible kidney and lung infection. They may have to remove one of his kidneys all together.”

“What’s the catch?” He asked, looking between them questioningly. “And don’t say that there isn’t one. There’s always a catch.”

So clever.

So much potential.

“You’re right, there is always a catch.” Kamui agreed, leaning back with a smile. “However, you can always say no.”

“We are giving this aide to you because we are family, at the end of the day eliminating Danzo is also beneficial to us.” Obito added, leaning against Kamui’s chair. “A massacre will not help any of us.”

“What’s the catch?” Itachi pressed.

“It has become quite clear that Konoha’s leadership is… lacking.” Kamui said, exchanging a brief look with Obito before continuing. “We can destroy Danzo’s progress, incapacitate him for several months and make him start again from the ground up, but within a few years he will be ready to strike once again. And he will, but only if Sarutobi continues to turn a blind eye to him. If we remove Sarutobi, we remove his main foothold within the council, meaning that we can cast him out entirely. From there he can be quietly  taken care off without us risking international war.”

“This is not something to take lightly.” Obito continued. “We are speaking about years of careful planning that will not end until Danzo and all the corrupt council associated with him are buried six feet under. If you’re caught, you will be executed for treason, and we cannot help you.”

“What are you suggesting I do?”

Another look was exchanged, Obito nodding calmly while Kamui sighed slightly, gesturing for him to continue.

“Despite what you may think of us, we want what is best for Konoha.” Obito stated. “The Uchiha are isolated, disregarded and treated poorly be fellow citizens. The best way to prevent an internal uprising, to make the Uchiha feel seen, to make them feel valued, is to put an Uchiha in charge.”

“We replace the Hokage, appease the Uchiha, two birds, one carefully thrown stone.” Kamui nodded, watching Itachi carefully.

“The council would never agree to an Uchiha being Hokage.” 

“They will if it’s you. Hatake was your mentor in the ANBU, Hatake was the student of Minato, who was the student of Sarutobi. You have the lineage, you have the pedigree, you have the infamy.” Obito listed, red eye flaring for a moment as Itachi sat and stared at them.

“You want to make me Hokage?” Itachi practically spat out, rearing back in his seat  and staring at them in shock.

“Not now.” Kamui waved off. “Years down the line, but that is our ultimate goal, yes.”

“You want me to be Hokage?”

“Inbreeding.” Obito muttered, ignoring the exasperated look Kamui threw at him.

“This will keep everyone alive?” Itachi asked, string at the pouch as if it was going to kill him.

“If everything goes well.” She nodded gently. “Leadership is not a mantle to be coveted. It is a burden you must grasp with bloody hands as it bites back at you. It is a chain that tightens around your throat with every opportunity. Nothing you do will ever be good enough ever again. I will not lie to you. This is not an escape. This is a life sentence.”

Itachi stared at the pouch of poison in front of him, a life sentence enclothed by a small piece of cloth. Kamui stared at him, watching him deliberate his admittedly few options.

Let the clan take over the village, kill the clan, become Hokage.

Decisions, decisions, decisions.

Kamui wasn’t clever, but an idiot could’ve told you what decision Itachi Uchiha was going to make.

“I’ll do it.”

Chapter Text

Gaara split his life into two sections. There was before Mother, and there was with Mother. He dreaded to think of a time where there would be after Mother.

He used to think Mother was a voice in his head, a cooing baritone that urged him to hide behind a wall of sand, praised every act of violence. Mother was a distant thought, a sharp bite and the pain of sand against bare skin.

However, that wasn’t it.

Sibling has many faults, but they have tried their best to do what they knew best.

Mother is warm, Mother is kind, even if her eyes and her teeth are sharp.

Kamui no Chaba’s teeth are sharp, and so is her mind, but her emotions are soft. She never breaks away from a hug first, she runs her hands through his hair whenever she sees him, she smiles brightly as she teaches him international law and politics, eyes bright and full of wonder as if she were the student instead of the teacher.

Maybe that’s why he’s lying to her.

Well, not lying, it was simply that she had never asked.

Mother is soft. Sibling agrees, fainter than they were before, but they had never really left. Mother must be protected.

Apparently, the seal was meant to keep Sibling away entirely, it wasn’t his fault that it didn’t work.

He’s silent as he watched the Uchiha across the corridor from him, the Fire shinobi banished from his Mother’s office as the Akatsuki discussed their plans, left to wander the hallways and into Gaara’s eyeline.

“Don’t touch that.” Gaara spoke up, clutching his plant closer to him and glaring over the luscious green leaves at the older boy. “You’re stinking the place up.”

Itachi’s hand paused centimetres away from the statue, red eyes snapping towards him, spinning with power as the older boy looked him over.

“Stinking up?” The boy asked after a brief pause.

“You smell.” Gaara nodded, shoving his noise closer to the leaves to help mask the scent. “You smell like a forest burning down. It’s not nice.”

“You’re the one-tailed’s host.” The Uchiha blinked, stepping away from the statue as Gaara’s nose crinkled. “You have a lot of biju chakra running through your system, is than even healthy?”

We should eat him, Sibling muttered, that would at least stop that horrendous smell.

Mother said we shouldn’t do that anymore, Gaara reminded them.

“Does it scare you?” Gaara asked instead, his head tilting to the side in the perfect mirror image of his Mother.

“Why would it?”

“Biju chakra scares most people, you should’ve seen how they acted back in Sand.”

“I’m not scared at you.”

Pupilless eyes fixed onto the Uchiha, not even blinking as Gaara wrinkled his nose once more.

“No, you’re not.” Gaara eventually agreed, readjusting his grip on the plant. “I would be able to smell it. You’re scared of Mother though, you smell like acid whenever she looks at you directly.”

“Have you been spying on me?”

“The palace is old.” Gaara shrugged. “Lots of hidden passageways.”

“I’m not scared of Kamui no Chaba.” The Uchiha said through gritted teeth.

Gaara grins, and his teeth are slightly too sharp.

“You should be.” He replied, the power of a thousand-year-old god echoing in his voice.

…

Three weeks after the Uchiha boy is sent away, Gaara followed his Mother as she walked across the courtyard, quietly whispering to Father as she glanced at each of the child soldiers lined in front of them, their backs straight, waiting for something.

“Many we’re killed in the chaos, these are the ones Sasori and Deidara determined to be smart and trustworthy enough to assimilate into the culture.”

Mother hummed as she examined the foreign girl in front of her, red stained hands reaching out as she grabbed the girl by the jaw, the girl opening her mouth willing so that Mother could examine her tongue. Stepping backwards silently and tilting his neck up, Gaara frowned at the sight of the seal on the girls tongue.

Why would anyone want to put a seal there?

However, he remained silent, just as Mother had asked him.

“Why not go back to wherever you came from?” Mother asked, dropping the girls jaw unceremoniously. “I’m not in the business of child soldiers, and nothing is keeping you here, so why stay?”

“With all respect, Empress.” The girl began, glancing between the two. “None of us know where to go back to, and we’ve had enough of Leaf shinobi to last a lifetime.”

Father chuckled at that, his only eye crinkling with humour.

“Have Kaina dismantle the seals.” He instructed Kisame, the large shark nodding in agreement. “I believe we’ve found the new volunteers you needed around the academy Kisame.”

…

He huddles next to Karin behind her mother’s desk at the hospital, both of them watching with rampant interest as Kaina carefully unwound the seals one by one.

“Who are they?” He whispered to Karin, the fifteenth and final child taking a seat in front of Kaina.

They were mix of ages, though the majority of them were slightly older than Karin and Gaara. Mixed genders. They only commonality they all seemed to share was that they were shinobi. Strong ones at that is Gaara’s senses were right.

“Something called ROOT.” Karin whispered back to him, her eyes glued on her mother. “I’ve got no idea what it means, but the word appears on all the files I’ve managed to look at. Who would call a hidden village ROOT? That’s a terrible name.”

…

Before Moon, Gaara’s favourite colour had been red. Red like blood, red like violence, the red that made Sibling croon and salivate with hunger.

Now that Sibling was quiet, a soft whisper rather than a booming command, Gaara  could confidently say that his favourite colour was green.

Gaara’s plants were his prized possessions. He made sure that they always grew well, carefully curated for their beautiful green leaves and pretty flowers. The green meant that they were loved and cared for, just as Gaara was loved.

Sometimes, when the sun was high and the flowers were vibrant, he was even allowed into Mother’s personal greenhouse.

“Thank you, sweetie.” Mother smiled, taking the potted plant that he offered to her.

She didn’t bother to hide her humour as he glanced around wildly, taking in the rows of vibrant plants that lined the shelves and the floor. Vines grew up the rafters, triangular leaves tilted lazily towards the sun. Violets, and reds and yellows lined the shelves, carefully organised and free from any visible rot or degradation. The shelves were impeccably clean, not a spec of dust or wayward crumb of dirt in sight.

“I wouldn’t touch them.” Mother warned, softly intercepting his reaching hand. “They’re not known for their gentleness.”

“They’re poisonous?”

“Only to our enemies.” Mother smiled, turning around, his little potted plant in hand and venturing deeper into the greenhouse.

Mother was dangerous, Mother was sharp.

Gaara and Sibling adored her.

…

The nobles talk.

The nobles had always talked.

They talk about feather fans, of the latest fashion trends, they talked about patterns and trade routes, feigning interests in each others’ children and partners until they had a socially acceptable  chance to gloat about their own, even if they secretly hated them.

They talked about Mother and Father the most, whispered words hid behind delicate fans when they thought he wasn’t listening.

He was always listening.

Kamui the Great. Kamui the Peaceful. Kamui of the Golden Age.

(Kamui the Whore. Kamui the Childless. Kamui the Poisonous.)

“Well, it’s all good having lands while you’re alive,” one of the ladies whispered to the other, “but what’s going to happen when she’s dead? No children, they’ll be a civil war just for the crown.”

“You didn’t know?” Another sniffed, carefully fanning herself so that her mouth was obscured. “She’s the old daimyo’s whore, my husband thinks that her womb is so battered and broken that it could never produce an heir.”

“How old is she now?” A third blinked, brushing her hands over her blue dress. “Nearly thirty? If she doesn’t fall pregnant soon, if we end up with anything it’ll be an emperor with two heads.”

“Lady Chino was claiming that she had fallen pregnant with Lord Tobi’s bastard.” The first gossiped, leaning closer to the other two. “Complete nonsense I say, the Lord Protector never looks at anyone but the Empress, and if he did, he would pick someone far better than that tacky prostitute.”

“Someone like you, Kazuko?” The second giggled.

“As if you could talk, you’d fall over your heels if he even glanced in your direction.”

They fell into a cacophony of high-pitched giggles, Gaara glancing upwards at Father whose masked face was facing somewhere else into the crowd.

“They don’t even know what you look like.” He muttered, scowling in disgust.

Father didn’t speak, though the slight tremble in his shoulders gave away the laughter that he was trying to smother.

We could always eat them, Sibling muttered.

Gaara ignored him, if only due to the fact that Mother would be distraught about his lack of manners.

…

Six months after he arrived, the other Uchiha is finally out of the hospital bed and wandering around freely.

(“His cousin is very helpful to us dearest Gaara.” Mother had told him. “At least attempt to be civil with him dearest.”)

Gaara hated him.

He was loud, obnoxious, and smelled like lighter fluid.

He tells him as much.

“You’re pretty glum for a child.” Shisui smirked back, scarred arms resting on his knees as he leaned forward to stare back at Gaara. Even with no eyes, years of ninja training meant Shisui had some sort of external sense as to who was around him and what their emotions were. “Aren’t kids meant to be all smiles?”

“You’re the one that jumped off a cliff and lost both of your eyes.” Gaara bit back, pupilless eyes narrowing. “Aren’t adults meant to be smart?”

“Touché.” Shisui shrugs.

“I don’t know what that means.” Gaara stated, eyes narrowing further.

“You don’t know what touché means?”

“I’m eight.” Gaara paused for a moment. “Nearly nine.”

Shisui looked at him blankly before nodding slowly.

“Even ‘Tachi wasn’t this weird at eight.” Gaara heard him mumble to himself.

“Thank you.”

…

A week later, Gaara finds a new potted cactus on the workbench in the greenhouse Mother had set aside specifically for him.

I’m sorry I called you weird, the note said in a neat clear script, obviously from a maid that had been dictated what to write. Want to practice kunai with me sometime?

The note is only signed with a goofy smiley face that looked like something Naruto would draw, only Naruto had the excuse of being eight years old and the human equivalent of sunshine. Shisui had neither of these excuses.

Gaara keeps the plant and goes to the proposed kunai practice.

For a man with no eyes, Shisui is better than hitting the target than he initially thought.

He still hates him.

(He doesn’t.)

…

Surprising everyone but Gaara, Shisui and Naruto get on like a house on fire.

Shisui takes a position teaching at the academy, mainly chakra theory, history, and tracking, but Kisame thinks with a little help he could teach almost the whole curriculum.

Gaara asked his Father why he looked so pleased to see someone so happy, both of them watching Naruto joyfully explain his best pranks to a grinning Shisui.

“Sometimes,” His Father told him. “We get to a point where we genuinely believe that we may never be happy again, that we do not deserve to experience happiness. I am simply happy that Shisui is remembering what real happiness looks like, rather than just the façade he puts on.”

…

“We have an issue.” Sasori scowled, Gaara not glancing up from his plant while Mother read over the paperwork from the most northern point of the Empire. “A delegate from Sand is here.”

“What do they want?” Mother hummed, flicking through the pages in front of her. “If it’s a message from Rasa asking me to speak with him, send them back like the last one.”

“Not exactly.” Sasori’s scowl deepened. “It’s about Gaara.”

“What about him?” Father spoke up, looking up from where he was sharpening the kunai.

“They want him back.”

This made Mother pause, glancing at Gaara and then towards Sasori.

“We have five years. He’s only been here a year and a half, we have almost another four remaining.”

“And yet.” Sasori shrugged, dropping the folded scroll onto her desk. “They want him back.”

Mother was still, staring at the paper in shock, as Father immediately rose from his seat. Gaara stood up to, opening and closing his mouth, unaware of what he could say to ease the situation.

“Kid.” Sasori stated, reaching out a hand. “Let’s go.”

Glancing back at Mother, Gaara noticed how she didn’t argue, her shoulders locked, black eyes fixed on the documents in front of her, looking utterly defeated.

“Darling Kamui.” Father muttered reaching for her as Sasori grabbed Gaara from the back of the shirt, unceremoniously dragging him out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

…

Mother took him with her to meet the messenger shinobi at the borders of the empire, Father immediately sinking back into the fabric of the universe at the wave of her hand.

“It is best if I face him alone.” Mother told him with a smile. “We do not come across as a threat in this way.”

Father had stared at her imploringly, before ultimately submitting to her judgement.

“I was promised five years.” Mother stated, both of her hands resting on Gaara’s shoulders, staring unblinkingly at the messenger.

“Such a thing wasn’t put in writing.” The messenger replied, a tall, male Sand shinobi with dark hair. “The Lord Rasa thanks you for your miraculous work in taming the beast and hopes to relieve you of the burden.”

“Children are never a burden.” Mother openly frowned, red stained fingers tapping his shoulders in warning when he opened his mouth to speak. “Perhaps Rasa should consider such a thing if he wishes for his child back. I had hoped he had finally found a moral conscience, obviously my hopes were too high.”

“You would be so cruel to keep him away from his homeland?”

“Cruel?” Mother almost seemed to choke on the word. “Cruel? I am his mother!”

“He is the Sand pharaohs son, not yours.” The irrelevant shinobi said bluntly, Gaara frowning up at him. “If you want children so badly Empress, I suggest breeding your own, if you’re capable of such an act.”

He’s rude, Sibling growled. He’s upsetting Mother.

Gaara looked up at his Mother with a frown, noting how she had become remarkably still, her face lacking and discernible emotion. Yet, the smell of flowers and black tea that clung to her had become noticeably sour, her eyes blank as she looked the messenger up and down.

“Disrespecting me is a crime.” She stated bluntly, a single eyebrow raising carefully as Gaara felt a hand rest on his shoulders once more. “Your leader sends you because he thinks we have tamed his jinchuriki?”

The messenger did not reply, scowling back at her.

“Well,” Mother visibly brightened, her eyes sharp as she clapped her hands together as if to signal the arrival of her conclusion. “It is such a shame that progress isn’t linear. There was a fascinating study done by a psychologist in Rain recently, about how images from the past can trigger violent behaviour. Chakra shock I believe they’re calling it.”

Mother is kind, Sibling immediately exclaimed, Mother is our fury, and we are our Mothers.

At the words, Gaara also brightened, shoulders shifting so that he could look up at her, the sand beneath his feet in the dirt shifting under his command. He can taste blood on his tongue and Sibling is howling with joy, as if they we’re a starved man offered a banquet.

“Mother.” He spoke up hesitantly, glancing from the confused messenger to her. “Can I eat him?”

The messenger is running, but Mother doesn’t look even a little bit concerned as she smiled down at him.

“Of course you can darling.”

The blood is warm against his sand, and thick against his teeth. Gaara has only experienced the love of Moon, so killing the Sand shinobi is a pleasure.

A sacrifice, Sibling croons, lifting the shouting shinobi higher,

A sacrifice Gaara agrees, pupilless eyes fixed on Kamui through the body of sand that surrounds him.

…

“How did you know about Sibling?”

“I’m your mother, Gaara. There is truly little you can hide from me.”

…

“You let him kill the messenger?” Father stressed, staring at her in shock.

Mother didn’t even blink.

“He was rude.” She dismissed, handing Gaara the soil for his newest plant.

“I am in love with you.” Father blurted out, as he tended to do whenever Mother showed the slightest hint of viciousness.

“I love you too dearest.”

…

Eventually, Rasa and Mother must come to an agreement, it didn’t do anyone any good if two great nations had tangible tension.

They settle on three years, meaning that Gaara can only stay in Moon for another year and a half.

Even though she tried to keep a blank face, Gaara could tell that the decision frustrated her more than anything. However, Gaara was his mother’s fury, and he doesn’t blink while he stares down the smirking Sand envoy that thinks they have won.

Gaara is the youngest son of the Sand Pharoh, but his siblings are lacking if what Sasori tells him is true. They are dull. Arrogant. Ungifted and unintelligent.

(“Stranger things have happened than the youngest taking power.”)

His Mother is his fury, and he is his Mothers.

Sand wants to take him away? Fine. In return he will grab the nation with both hands and reform all of it, before presenting it as a gift to his Mother.

He will reform legislature, he will reform orphanages, he will make sure no parent ever gets away making any child feel like they are a weapon, like Rasa did to him.

After all, he was raised by the best people for the job.

…

When a blonde woman and her black-haired assistant come dragged into Mother’s office, Gaara looks up from his plant. However, Mother didn’t seem surprised, clapping her hands gratefully as she smiled to them.

“Take a seat.” She smiled, gesturing to the two seats in front of her.

“Oh no.” The older blonde woman hissed. Slamming her hands down on the desk and scowling at Mother. “I’m not getting involved with Empress’ that have grudges. No. Thanks for getting us out of that prison, but we would’ve been fine.”

“Would you?” Mother hummed, unfazed by the older woman’s behaviour. “You’ve wracked up quite the drinking debt, and loan sharks around Moon aren’t known for their forgiving attitudes.”

“I could take them.”

“Certainly.” Mother shrugged, the small smile not moving from your face. “However, I am offering you the opportunity to wipe your debts completely clean, the royal stamp of approval at the finest drinking establishments- but only if you do something for me first.”

“Maybe we should listen to her.” The black haired one mumbled, the blonde shooting her a look before turning back to Mother.

“I don’t heal people anymore.”

“I’m not asking you to heal anyone.” Mother blinked innocently. “I’m asking you to make me a child.”

Chapter Text

“I’m not asking you to heal anyone.” Kamui blinked, tilting her head slightly as she stared at Tsunade with mild confusion. “I’m asking you to make me a child.”

Tsunade stared at her, seemingly dumbfounded by the proposition.

“Gaara, dearest.” Kamui smiled softly, turning towards her adopted son. “Why don’t you go and train with Sasori?”

She was met with a silent, mildly confused nod, Sasori closing the door on both of them as they left.

“You must be desperate if you’re going to me for medical advice.” Tsunade scoffed, turning back to glare at the shinobi at the door for a moment before dropping into the chair Gaara had vacated. “Aren’t you infamous for hating Konoha?”

“Hate is a strong word.” Kamui admonished, calmly drawing the sake closer to her when Tsunade made to reach for it. “Though not necessarily incorrect.”

“How long have you been trying for an heir?” Tsunade said bluntly, her eyes leaving the sake to stare at Kamui.

“So, you’ll help?” Kamui asked.

“If it’s worth fronting my tab then I’m curious as to why you’re so desperate.”

Kamui blinked once more, inclining her head for Tsunade’s assistant Shizune to sit down.

“The problem isn’t to do with trying, rather the ability to try in the first place.” She stated calmly, folding her hands in her laps to hide the way her fingers were trembling.

“You’re infertile?”

“Not quite.” She hummed. “I know the rumours say I am, but I believe that is far from the case. My blood is regular, I’ve been pregnant before with little effort. I was lucky as a concubine to have access to high end birth control fuelled by chakra, and a shinobi doctor for termination when that failed.”

“I thought the highest concubine got to keep their children?”

“This was before then.” Kamui said, blinking away the hazy memory of the blood on her hands and down her legs. “It is of little matter to our current situation, I am at fault for the lack of an heir, it’s true, but not due to infertility.”

“Then what is at fault?” Shizune spoke up, timidly glancing down and lacing her fingers together when Kamui turned to her.

“Two major issues, but I will need assurance that what I say next will not leave this room.”

“I’m not an active shinobi for Konoha, and you’re hiring me.” Tsunade snorted, leaning back in her sheets. “I won’t spill your embarrassing sexual secrets to the masses, or to Fire if that’s what you’re worried about. I may be a drunk, but I’m not cruel.”

Kamui breathed in deeply, looking away from them both for a moment, fingers digging into her thighs as she stared at the tapestry across the wall.

“My husband and I…” She started, breathing out through her nose carefully as she made eye contact with Tsunade. “We don’t have sex. We can’t.”

“They have pills for that now.” Tsunade replied dryly.

“Not that.” Kamui said sharply. “We can’t have sex. I don’t- I can’t stomach such activities. Before you start, I’m not traumatised from being a concubine. I’m not broken. I’m not just unsatisfied. I-” She breathed out once more, deflating in her seat. “I just don’t like it.”

“Okay.” Tsunade nodded, showing no outward rection to the revelation. “What’s the second issue?”

“My husband doesn’t have any working genitalia.” Kamui spat out, looking skyward to the gods and praying for this conversation to be over. “He was… in an accident a decade ago, most of his internal organs were crushed, replaced with different DNA. An unnecessarily long story. We’re unaware if any reproductive facilities are salvageable.”

“Right.” Tsunade nodded calmly, neither of them deigning it necessary to look at a gaping Shizune. “So, you can’t just get your husband to wank off in a jar because he’s not got the facilities to do that, and you can’t just sleep with someone random because of your personal aversions and likely the tricky political navigation if your affair partner started running their mouth.”

“A splendid summary.” She replied dryly.

“So…” Tsunade trailed off for a moment. “You don’t like having sex?”

Kamui stared at her blankly.

“No.”

“That’s fair.” The blonde woman nodded. “I’ll examine your husband first, and I won’t make any promises before then.”

…

“Well, that was borderline violating.” Obito joked, dramatically falling into the space next to Kamui on the bench.

“Don’t be dramatic.” Kamui sighed, nearly dropping her fan when he dropped his head into her lap, running her fingers through his hair with a short laugh. “Did she say the verdict?”

“Not yet, but we can find out.” Obito shrugged, sitting up straight and making a complicated sela with his hands.

Kamui snapped open her fan, watching over the lace edge as a shinobi popped into existence in response to the call.

“Ma’am. Sir.” The shinobi bowed deeply, the faded black on their tongue signifying them to be an ex-ROOT member.

When she had sent Deidara to blow up the place, she’d instructed him to release any of the shinobi that did not fight back, kill them if it seemed more merciful. Out of the hundred or so that had been released and deemed trustworthy and stable enough to keep their lives, twenty one had followed Deidara into Moon. The rest, with the discrete help of Itachi, had left fire to travel the other nations, enjoying their freedom. Out of the twenty one that followed Deidara, fifteen were determined to have honest intentions, the rest being quietly extracted and terminated by the Akatsuki. Of those fifteen, only three were old enough to directly enter the shinobi workforce of Moon.

As it turns out, they made excellent spies. Trained in camouflage, infiltration, and remaining incognito. Two of them had been sent to spy on other nations, one of them infiltrating the tense political situation in Kirigakure as an administrator, the other assessing ways to improve their relations with Iwagakure in Earth.

They had kept one to teach in the academy, as well as spy on the ongoings within the palace itself.

Gaara’s knowledge on the hidden passages had been an immense help.

“Report.” Obito stated, leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees, watching the female shinobi carefully.

“She seems confident sir, she was discussing with her assistant about possible artificial implantation and possibly cultivating embryos outside of the womb before implanting it back in. Her assistant is sceptical, would you like me to remove her as an influence?”

The only problem with the older ex-ROOT members is that they were quite inclined to murder, though they did nothing without direct orders, so it had yet to become a problem.

“That won’t be necessary.” Obito said, dismissing the idea entirely. “Remember what we  spoke about Ai?”

“Murder is an escape, while torture is a reality.”

Kamui shot Obito a harsh look behind the fan, her husband flinching away from her stare slightly as he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Before that.”

“Murder is a last resort.” Ai replied, humour flashing through her dark eyes while her face was perfectly still.

“Can you access her medical notes?” Kamui spoke up.

“Possibly.” Ai blinked, tilting her head while she considered. “She keeps it guarded with many security seals, keeps it on her constantly. If I could get my hands on it for a few hours I could decode and write a transcript of the whole thing. But it’s unlikely that she’d abandon it for long enough for that to work.”

“It is of little matter.” Kamui waved off with her fan, snapping it shut with a flick of her wrist.

“Any letters to Konoha?” Obito asked.

“No sir.”

Her husband nodded slowly, glancing at the floor for a moment before turning back to Ai.

“Keep an eye on her.” He stated, voice deep and eyes dark.

“Of course, sir.”

…

“I’ll do it.” Tsunade stated, Shizune practically tripping over herself to catch up with the woman as Kamui raised her head to look her in the eye, raising one eyebrow at how the blonde doctor had randomly cornered her. “I’ll make you an heir, on several conditions.”

“Go on.” Kamui pressed gently, waving off the shinobi guard that was about to interrupt.

“One,” Tsunade stated, the taller woman crossing her arms across her chest. “You pay off the debts, you live in a castle with a shit ton of gold, you could afford it.”

“The export business is very financially lucrative.” She commented absentmindedly.

“Two,” Tsunade pressed. “You give me those shiny bottles of sake you keep in the cellar.”

“I’ll give you one.” Kamui compromised, narrowing her eyes slightly. “After you’ve given me a child, I will not have a drunk probing inside of me.”

“Three,” Tsunade stressed, agreeing to Kamui’s terms with a sharp nod as she pointed towards Shizune. “You let her practice on your shinobi.”

“You’re a foreign ninja, and, quite arguably to some of these people: a war criminal.” She pointed out, dark eyes narrowing further. “Why should I let you anywhere near my shinobi?”

“Because no shinobi to practice on, no heir for you.” Tsunade stated, bending at the waist to stare back at her. “No heir, no more Moon. That’s my understanding of it anyway.”

Kamui’s jaw clenched, the older woman wasn’t wrong.

“You’ll be supervised constantly.” She acquiesced, turning to Shizune. “If a single one of my shinobi are hurt further by you practising on them, you’ll have to practice on Sasori’s puppets instead.”

“What’s wrong with his puppets?” Shizune spoke up nervously.

“I had to ban him from the main palace as the stench of decay made all of my maids go on strike until he was removed.” Kamui paused, lifting her shoulder in a light shrug. “I don’t know what he does, and my guess is that you don’t want to know either.”

…

“Shisui.” Kamui greeted softly, placing her documents down as the blind Uchiha entered the room. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“I am always happy to see Itachi.” Shisui replied, brushing his hand against the side of the chair before stepping into it. “Has he arrived?”

“Not quite yet.” She hummed, reshuffling the documents as she glanced at the bandages around Shisui’s eyes. “It’s been a year, are they truly not healed?”

“Better for the muscle to keep them covered from the elements apparently.” He answered. “Plus, all the maids say I look very handsome and mysterious.”

“You’re one of the few shinobi that give them anytime.” She laughed lightly, leaning back in her seat. “I’m sure you’re aware Tsunade has taken up residence in the palace, I can ask her to take a look if you would like.”

“It’s likely best that I didn’t.” Shisui stated, fingers interlocking on his lap. “This is the bed I have made, I will lay in it.”

“Kisame tells me you are good with the children.” She said, softly changing the subject as she turned away from him. “I’m aware you and Itachi are planning your re-entry into Konoha once he is Hokage. However, my husband and I would like to make it quite clear that you are  always welcome to stay here. You have been an impeccable help with Naruto and Gaara, as well as your students.”

“Obito-nii asked you to convince me, didn’t he?”

Kamui laughed lowly at that, raising her eyes to look at him even if he couldn’t see her.

“Such a thing was strongly implied, yes.” She admitted. “He enjoys having you here. Though he would likely crush himself under a rock again then ever admit it.”

She placed down the documents on the table, raising to her feet and purposefully stepping slightly heavier than normal so that Shisui didn’t startle when she reached for his shoulder.

“I will leave you to your discussion with Itachi.” She said softly, patting his shoulder lightly. “Make sure that he reads the documents, I know that you shinobi do not value it, but being adept in legislation and paperwork is an invaluable skill for a leader.”

“Of course, ‘Mui-nee.”

“One of these days, someone is going to think that you mean a great offense by calling me that.” She admonished lightly, turning towards the door. “Tell Itachi that I know he’s avoiding me.”

…

“Naruto.” Kamui sighed, kneeling down in front of him. “They are not purposefully targeting you by not promoting you to genin.”

They were, but she couldn’t exactly admit that to a ten year old.

“’Mui-nee.” Naruto groaned, rolling his clear blue eyes at her. “They totally are, dattebayo. I can do all that basic stuff they ask us to do, sure my control might not be the best, but I’m stell better than nearly all the class.”

“You hang out with Hidan and Shisui too much.” She stated, a smile pulling at red painted lips when Naruto turned to her with pleading eyes. “Still, I am not going to let Hidan teach you and Gaara expert level taijutsu, while you are still an academy student.”

“But I shouldn’t be-”

“Even if you were a genin.” Kamui cut him off firmly. “I would not let him.”

“Ah, the brat can handle it.” Hidan piped up, Kamui’s eyes sliding to stare at him flatly. “But you’re the boss, boss. No killer moves for the brats.”

“Is it true there’s going to be a baby?” Naruto asked, Kamui turning to look at him. “Gaara and Karin we’re talking about it. Can I pick the baby? Please, ‘Mui-nee, I’ll pick a good one!”

“It’s not as simple as just picking a child Naruto.” She said with a short laugh, running her fingers through Naruto’s golden hair. “You need to grow them first.”

“Like a plant?”

“In a way.” Kamui nodded. “The tutors will teach you it all in a year or so.”

“Or we could just tell him now.” Hidan shrugged, leaning against his staff. “First you fuck and-”

“Hidan.” Kamui snapped, rising to her feet to glare at the Akatsuki member. “Truly not necessary and not the time.”

If anything, Naruto looked even more confused.

“Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean the rest of us-”

“Hidan.” She snapped.

“Hey, I’m not judging, I’m just saying.”

“I think you’ve said enough.” She sighed softly, resisting the sudden urge to bash her head into the table. “Naruto, godling, why don’t you go and show Gaara and Karin what you have brought from Konoha?”

“Yes, ‘Mui-nee.”

Kamui no Chaba, the Red Empress, ruler of most of the Southern nations, the biggest exporter in all of the nations, respected and reviled in equal measure, reduced to a nickname as diminutive and simple as ‘Mui.

She didn’t entirely hate it.

…

“So,” She pressed hesitantly, leaning forward on the sterile hospital bed, her hair loose around her. “Is it possible?”

Tsunade paused for a moment, sparks of green chakra escaping her fingers as she drew away from Kamui’s abdomen.

“You’re definitely fertile, you’re not wrong about that.” She started carefully, staring at the bare skin of Kamui’s lower abdomen. “However, I would like to know how you got that.”

With a still and professional wave, Tsunade pointed at the jagged scar across Kamui’s abdomen.

“I did…” Kamui paused for a moment, staring down at the skin, honestly having forgotten about the presence of the scar. “When I found out I was pregnant the first time, I panicked. I was from the farmlands of Eastern tea, I was young, exposed to the cruel taunts of the court. I hadn’t been exposed to the chakra professionals that the courts hired. It was a stupid mistake, it took two concubines to hold me down, and another two to take the knife from me.”

“Vicious even then.”

“I do not know fully what they say about me in other nations.” Kamui said carefully, readjusting her hospital shirt. “Alas, I do not believe vicious is one of them.”

“All women with passion are labelled as vicious.” Tsunade waved off, turning away from her for a moment. “They labelled me as vicious as well.”

“Do you miss it?” She pressed gently, tilting her head as she watched the older woman carefully. “Being a doctor? No one ever really knew why you stopped.”

“Just because I’m good at something, doesn’t mean I fully enjoyed it.” Tsunade muttered, turning back to Kamui. “I’m scared of blood, and yet they still kept pushing for me to do it. It didn’t matter how I felt about it, only that I was too good to stop doing it.”

Kamui nodded softly, staring at the floor for a moment.

“You killed my teammate.” Tsunade spoke up suddenly, leaning back in her chair. “May as well get it out in the air. You killed him and I hate you for it.”

“I don’t think I need to enlighten you on what Orochimaru was doing to the Uzumaki clan, or any child he was in contact with.” Kamui said, dark eyes watching Tsunade carefully. “Your former teammate wrapped his arms around my neck and told me that he would make me a pet. I will not apologise for having him killed.”

“I know.” Tsunade nodded, her gaze unwavering. “However, if I don’t hate you then I have to hate him, and I’m not ready to realise what he has done and hate him yet.”

“It’s been ten years.” She stated neutrally. “You do not know me Tsunade, and I do not know you. However, I know enough that stewing in grief and regret for a decade is not good for you. Nothing you could’ve done would have changed Orochimaru, or his fate by my hand.”

Tsunade was silent, turning away from Kamui entirely.

“You think I don’t know anything because I’m not a shinobi.” Kamui sighed softly, pushing herself off the bed and walking towards the door. “That I don’t know what you’ve been through together. You’re right, I wont, but that doesn’t make me stupid. You already forgave me a long time ago, perhaps it’s time that you forgive yourself.”

“You would’ve made a good shinobi if you were born in Fire.” Tsunade spoke up just as she was about to shut the door entirely.

“That’s not the compliment that Konoha shinobi seem to think it is.”

Chapter Text

It takes six months, six months and six failed experiments until Tsunade turns to them grinning like the cat that caught the mouse.

“I can confirm that I have cultivated a successful embryo with good prospects.” Tsunade nodded, looking incredibly proud of her achievement.

Kamui didn’t blame her, she was equally dumbfounded as Tsunade was proud.

“Not much certainty in the choice of wording.” Obito commented, narrowing his only visible eye at the other woman.

“This is a new science.” Tsunade waved off, the smile not yet wiped from her face. “The cells needed a lot of gentle persuasion to grow, the embryo is only kept alive by a seal that’s feeding it constant neutral chakra at a low level, too high and the cells mutate, too low and the cell dies.”

“You don’t know what will happen when you implant it.” Her husband argued, Kamui’s eyes fixed on the tiny petri dish Tsunade had gestured to. “Kamui isn’t a neutral constant chakra source, you could send the cells into shock. Even worse, you could kill my wife.”

“Look.” Tsunade argued back. “This is revolutionary science, this has never even been attempted before. A thousand things could go wrong, however we don’t know how to progress unless we try. I’ve read all of the notes from everyone who even has a crumb of insight. You wanted the best doctor for this. You’ve got it. However, you need to actually trust that I know what I’m doing.”

Obito opened his mouth, obviously ready to rant back, though the sound died in his throat as Kamui set a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Dearest.” She said softly, her hand falling into Obito’s outstretched hand, fingers interlocking together. “This is what we wanted. This is what our country needs.”

“Not at the risk of you.” He muttered, his hand tightening around hers for a brief moment.

“Nearly everything I do is at the risk of my life if we thought about it too much.” Kamui countered, smiling softly at her husbands conflicted eye. “If you wish, you can use your kekkai genkai to put me into an illusion and monitor all of my vitals from there yourself. I’m sure Tsunade would be amendable. No?”

All eyes turned to the blonde doctor, who was glancing between them with raised eyebrows.

“As long as your sedated I don’t see an issue.” She nodded after a brief hesitation. “I don’t need you kicking me and moving about too much while in the clutches of an illusion.”

“Perfect.” Kamui grinned, Obito nodding in agreement after a few moments. “We’ll have to set a date.”

…

“Itachi Uchiha.” She smiled brightly, eyes sharp as she stepped out of the alcove, intercepting the Uchiha heir mid-step. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Don’t you have a country to be running?” Itachi replied, shoulders tense and eyes narrowing. “How do you even have time to be hiding around dark corners?”

“I’ve been ordered by a medical professional to be relaxing in a low stress environment before my procedure.” Kamui shrugged. “My husband has taken that to mean it is his life’s mission to ensure that I don’t do anything that could cause me the slightest bit of upset. Now, I am mortifyingly bored.”

 “What does that have to do with me?”

“A year is a long time to avoid someone Itachi Uchiha.”

“Obviously not long enough.”

“Such animosity.” She tutted lowly, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. “You are scared.”

It is not a question.

Red painted lips tilted upwards for a split second, before her face cooled into a neutral stare.

“Fear is good.” She nodded after a tense moment. “Fear teaches you, it is good to feel fear and trepidation about what awaits you as leader, which means my lessons have worked. Arrogant leaders are leaders that fail. Arrogant leaders are those that send their country to ruin for their own benefit.”

“Konoha will never accept an Uchiha as leader.” Itachi hissed, as if the action of saying it aloud will bring hell upon him. “I’ve tried, okay. I keep trying to integrate them with everybody else but nothings working. The only reason they backed off a coup is because I told them I was in the line for Hokage.”

“I fail to see the issue.”

“You’re under the presumption that I can control an entire clan.” Itachi said, frustration flashing in his eyes. “I can’t. I’m not their leader.”

“This is why you’re not progressing in you sessions with Shisui.” She hummed in reply, tilting her head to look up at him as he straightened. “You are not in the mindset that you should be. Do you think being  leader starts with everyone naming you one? Your inherited title makes you soft, makes you weak. Nothing in this world is handed to us.”

“I know that.”

“Then act like it.” She said, cutting him off before he could speak further. “No one is going to pat your back and proclaim that everyone should listen to you, you have to show them that you should be listened to. You must rise above all the alternatives and when they beg for your leadership, your benevolence through the chaos, which is when you reach out a hand and become their leader.”

Itachi was silent, staring at the floor, his lips pursed.

“Do you understand what I am saying to you?”

The boy only nodded, resolution flashing in his eyes as his squared his shoulders.

He will be brilliant, someone for Fire to follow through the chaos of their recent leadership, an ancestral stronghold over the village, unparalleled power amongst his peers.

He would get there, Kamui knew it.

He just wasn’t there quite yet.

…

“You’ll be okay.” Obito said, sounding as if he was trying to reassure  himself rather than her as Kamui stared up at him from the hospital bed. “You’ll be fine and there’ll be a baby after all this mess. Gods, Kamui, there’s going to be a baby.”

 For how powerful and cunning her husband could be, it was astounding how quickly he could turn into a bubbling mess.

“Yes, dearest.” She nodded patiently, interlocking her fingers with his outstretched hand. “That is what a child and heir entails.”

“A child.” Obito stressed, blinking in disbelief.

“Darling.” Kamui stressed in reply, laughing lightly at her husbands stunned expression.

“Tsunade is ready whenever you guys are.” Shizune spoke up, popping her head through the hospital curtain with a soft smile. “Whenever you’re happy with the illusion and the vitals sir, we’ll take her through.”

“You’re ready?”

“About as ready as I’ll ever be.” She smiled in reply, letting go of his hand and turning to face the ceiling, watching Shizune disappear back behind the curtains to give them privacy. “Darling?”

“Yes, my dearest?”

“Will you make it a sweet dream?”

Obito smiled, leaning over her as his eyes slowly spun into red, pulsing with power as the world around her faded.

“Only the sweetest for you.”

…

Kamui Bukaku was not an empress, she wasn’t anyone of much importance.

She was just a farm girl in Eastern Tea, her hands brushing through the crops, tilting her head and humming in thought as she looked over the yield. The tea leaves had done well this year, enough to support them easily through the winter and further. The crops seemed to have done well as well, strong and fruitful despite the harsh sun in recent weeks.

Humming  a tune to herself, the same one that her mother used to sing to her as a child, Kamui stepped out of the crops, blinking  rapidly to adjust to the harsh light.

Stretching out her fingers, huffing at the dirt underneath her nails as she heads back on the dirt track to the central part of the village. She nearly didn’t see the man walking ahead of her, his green uniform blending into the green landscape of Tea.

He was going the wrong way.

What an idiot.

She stopped a few paces in front of him, staring at him with a raised eyebrow and folded arms. Though, he didn’t notice her, too busy staring down at the dirt track road.

“You’re going the wrong way.” She finally said with a heavy sigh.

“How do you know which way I’m going?” The stranger replied, tilting his head up. “I could be going this way on purpose for all you know.”

“If your purpose is starvation as the next outpost is four days away then please be my guest.” She shrugged, stepping out of his way with an exaggerated hand gesture. “Otherwise, if you’re looking for the closest village, then you’re going the wrong way.”

“Meh.” The man looked up, allowing Kamui to take in the symbol carved into his headband, and the eyepatch covering his left eye. “I’m a shinobi you know, it’ll take more than four days of starvation to kill me.”

“Starving doesn’t sound particularly pleasant.” She replied, scoffing as she stepped past him, the man turning on his heel and keeping pace with her. “Oh? So, you were going the wrong way?”

“So, what if I was?”

She stopped, spinning on her heel to look him up and down with a scowl.

“Then you should’ve just said so.” She huffed, folding her arms and staring at him through narrowed eyes. “There was no need to be a dickhead about it.”

“You’re the one that made the rude assumption.”

“I was trying to help you.”

“Yeah.” The stranger scoffed back, falling into step with her when she began walking once more. “And you were rude about it.”

“Spare me.” She drawled, resisting the urge to roll her eyes like a child. “Shall I know the name of the shinobi that I should grovel for forgiveness to?”

“Obito Uchiha.” The stranger replied, a grin breaking onto his face as Kamui looked at him strangely. “And you are?”

“Kamui.” She replied flatly. “Aren’t you a ninja? You don’t need me to escort you.”

“It’s always a ninjas prerogative to escort pretty women home.”

“Sure.” Kamui agreed mildly, not able to completely smother the short laugh that escaped her.

Something shifted in the air and Kamui blinked, tilting her head up to the sky, marvelling at the stillness off it. By the time she brought her chin backed down, the landscape had vanished replace with a long stretch of nothingness that shined like diamonds so bright the Kamui almost stumbled back.

She was no longer a peasant girl with a simple life, she was an Empress once more, her head spinning with the sudden recollection.

She stood in the nothingness, naked except for the thin hospital gown she had been wearing when her husband had slipped her into the illusion.

However, this wasn’t her husbands work.

She spun on her heel, eyes fixing on the only other thing in the landscape. A back turned to her, white hair moving with the non existent breeze. Cautiously, Kamui walked towards them, her bare footed steps echoing in the empty cavern around them. As she got closer, she could see the white horns perched on the top of the figures head, unnaturally pale skin and eyes looking towards the empty landscape as if there was something only they could see.

“Children are such a beautiful thing.” Kaguya stated emptily, all three of her eyes fixed on the non-existent horizon as Kamui stared at her in horror. “You always cherish them, even if they herald your ending.”

“You’re not real.” Kamui choked out, nearly tripping over nothing as she stepped away from the goddess. “This is Obito’s illusion, you can’t be here.”

“Real. Not real. It’s such a shame humans only work with such binary concepts.” Kaguya hummed lowly, all three eyes sliding to look at Kamui. “Your husbands power is my power by ancient rite, with enough effort I can disrupt the frequencies.”

“Then why didn’t you before?”

“It took immense power to keep my Zetsu sustained, it took a long time to find and absorb his essence back into myself.” The trapped goddess replied. “I do not owe you any explanation Kamui Bukaku.”

“no Chaba.” Kamui corrected softly.

“Do you think yourself too good for your mothers name?” Kaguya replied.

Kamui had no reply for that.

With a speed that was faster for Kamui to comprehend, Kaguya reached out, unnaturally pale and sharp nails digging into the flesh of her cheeks as Kaguya effortlessly dragged her forwards, unphased as Kamui wildly kicked out against her, stopping only when their noses were nearly touching.

“I will do this for you once, Kamui Bukaku.” Kaguya stressed, her nails digging into skin further as Kamui flinched, all three of her eyes unyielding and wild. “I will do this for you only once. In the name of the motherhood that we share, and the sacrifices bestowed to me in your name begging for your long life. I am bound by the rules of the cosmos after all, despite my personal opinions about you.”

“The feelings mutual.” Kamui hissed in reply, glaring back at her.

“Do not trust forests with good intentions.” Kaguya spoke, her voice gaining a booming quality that seemed to echo and vibrate amongst the nothingness around them. “Incline your head to hound, and hope for the sweetness of a dead memory.”

If Kamui hadn’t known gods and the way they worked better, she would say the goddess was being purposefully cryptic.

“Anything more obvious?” She gasped around tight fingernails as Kaguya stared down at her, seemingly impossibly large while only looming a few centimetres above her.

She could hear a voice calling her in the distance, the rapid beeping of the heart monitor, the unmistakeable sound of her husband shouting her name, the rapid footsteps of many people as the heart rate monitor beeped faster and faster.

“They’re trying to kill you Kamui.” Kaguya whispered, her eyes blazing with ancient power. “They’re trying to kill you.”

She crumbled to the floor as the goddess let her go, air filling her lungs as the landscape around them shattered.

…

She awoke with a start, shooting upright in the hospital bed and breathing heavily, her hands damp with sweat as they tightened around the bed sheets. A hundred hands seemed to descend upon her at once, probing for her temperature, her heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen levels.

“Move.” A deep voice snapped above all of the sudden questions, a blurry darkly dressed figure pushing themselves to her bed side as Kamui blinked in shock. “Darling? Dearest Kamui, speak to me.”

“They’re trying to kill me.” She whispered, blind panic taking over her as she seized Obito’s hand, staring at him with tears running down her face. “Obito, they’re trying to kill me.”

“Darling, darling no.” Her husband said softly, his other hand reaching to run through her loose hair. “They’re only trying to help you.”

“No, not them.” Kamui rushed out, shaking her head urgently. “Forests. Hounds. Memories. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“We may need to sedate her.” A voice spoke up, one that she vaguely recognised as Tsunade’s. “She’s delirious.”

“Forests.” Kamui whispered, her hand tightening around Obito’s. “Hounds. Memories. That’s what she said, that’s all she said.”

“Who?” Obito implored, while Kamui stared at him. “Who said that, darling?”

“Kaguya.” She said, her eyes wide in horror.

…

Kamui stared at the hearth in the temple, the sacrifices piled high as the smoke billowed through the opening in the roof. It had been almost ten years since she had made the journey up the mountain to the temple of the moon goddess, her statue as large and imposing as she had remembered it.

“I thought I had lost you entirely.” Obito admitted, his shoulder brushing against hers, his ability still humming underneath her skin as the effects wore off slowly, a small price to pay to avoid climbing the hundreds of stone steps to the temple. “One moment you were fine, Tsunade had left, and then your entire body just seized. Chakra shock they said. I told Tsunade that she should’ve decreased the amount of foreign chakra used for the implantation. It’s fine for shinobi but it’s not fine for you-”

“Obito.” She whispered softly, a hand resting on his elbow. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay.” Obito stressed, looking down at her as if he was about to sob. “You were in my illusion, and I couldn’t reach you, I couldn’t bring you back. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t woken up. I can’t go through it again Kamui. I won’t go through it again. Not with you.”

“You wont.” Kamui swore, tilting her head upwards to meet his eyes. “Obito, I swear to you, I am fine. Her words will not come to light, we will be sure of it”

“Yeah. A bit of a godly encounter never killed anyone.” Hidan cheered, the Akatsuki finally appearing at the top of the steps, Sasori scowling at the long walk, Deidara looking around the interior with wonder, Kisame supporting the blind Shisui, the Uchiha in question standing proudly in his newly gifted black cloak with red clouds. “Well, a godly encounter kills me but when you work with Jashin that’s sort of the contracted work.”

“How’s it even possible?” Sasori scowled, staring at the statue of the goddess like he wanted to strangle her personally. If memory served her right, Kamui would guess it was due to the fact Sasori was still nurturing the fury he felt by narrowly avoiding being killed by the one tail years ago. “I thought she was trapped.”

“Trapped to us and trapped to a god are two different things.” Hidan waved off. “She can’t leave the moon, but that doesn’t mean with enough stored power she can’t intercept chakra frequencies and craft what she want with them. She gets power from sacrifices, however small, it’s not unrealistic to think she’d have enough from the past decade to trap Kamui in an illusion of her own.”

“What do you think it all means?” She asked, her eyes turning to the hearth once more.

“Seems like the type of thing that will only make sense once its happening.” Kisame spoke up, shrugging with an apologetic look. “Though, we can take steps to ensure that you’re protected at all times.”

“I want the intel team in my office  by sunlight tomorrow, I want all our contacts outside of Moon to have their ears to the floor trying to gather every piece of information relevant to Moon and my wife.” Obito commanded through gritted teeth, his earlier sadness wiped away to reveal a deep brewing fury. “I don’t care how irrelevant it is, I want everything they can find. No one of interest is going to breathe without us knowing about it.”

“Of course, boss.” Deidara nodded, his eyes awkwardly shifting to Kamui. “You find out whether your implantation was successful yet? You don’t have to tell us, but just so we know, and your security team can be properly trained.”

Kamui smiled softly, exchanging a look with Obito and turning away from the hearth with a grin.

“Tsunade is currently drinking her way through our finest soju.” She announced gleefully.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Hidan asked, his face scrunching up with confusion as Kisame laughed loudly.

“It means she’s pregnant, you idiot.”

Chapter Text

No one thought to warn her of the nausea.

Kamui’s hand tightened around her pen, teeth grinding together as the maids poured her lavender tea.

“Your perfume.” She said bluntly, dark eyes sliding to the maid closest to her, wrinkling her nose at the stench, trying to swallow against the tight hands of nausea around her throat. “It’s awful. Stop wearing it.”

“Of course, ma’am.” The maid whispered, a red blush spreading across her face as she scampered away from the Empress.

“Thank you.” She acknowledged, head falling into her hands as the door shut behind them.

“You really don’t look well Kamui-nee.” Naruto commented, looking up from the leaf he was practising to hold perfectly still in the air, practicing something about chakra control that Kamui had just nodded along with.

“Much like growing temperamental seeds, growing children is not an easy experience.” She acknowledged gently, placing down her pen with gritted teeth. “The graduation exam is soon, how are you feeling about it?”

“The cloning technique that Kisame taught me is helpful.” Naruto nodded, the floating leaf gently landing back on the desk. “I can’t do the one they teach at the academy.”

“Your chakra reserves are indicative of your Whirlpool heritage.” She hummed lowly, threading her fingers together. “It makes sense that the technique taught to students in Fire is useless to you. Let alone the impact the Kyuubi has on your system.”

“I guess.” Naruto muttered, staring solemnly at his leaf. “I hope my teammates will be okay.”

“You cannot control where they put you.” She said, watching him carefully as his shoulders slumped. “The only thing you can control is yourself. You will pass the exam, anything that occurs after you can control after.”

A knock on the door intercepted the conversation, both Naruto and Kamui turning to look at the door expectedly as Kamui called out.

“Come in.”

Shizune poked her head in first, smiling brightly at Kamui, undeterred by the uncomfortable grimace on the Empresses’ face.

“Tsunade and I came to check up on you before we leave. We heard your nausea was pretty bad.”

“Oh?” Kamui blinked  slowly, nodding after a brief moment and rising from her seat. “Please, feel free to come in.”

They both stepped into the office, Tsunade’s chin raised eyes, pride in her accomplishment still burning brightly in her yes as she took in Kamui, though she faltered slightly at the site of Naruto, glancing in confusion between the two.

“Darling.” She continued softly, dark eyes resting on a confused Naruto. “Why don’t you go and play with Gaara and Karin?”

“Yes, Kamui-nee.” Naruto nodded, smile widening into a grin as bright as the sun, grabbing his practice leaf and practically bolting out of the room.  

“Isn’t Jiraiya meant to be his godfather?” Tsunade asked, blinking in confusion at Naruto’s retreating back. “What on earth is he doing with you?”

“Whose Jiraiya?” Kamui replied, turning to her and blinking in equal amounts of confusion. “Wait. Isn’t that the pervert that’s been banned from every brothel south of Fire? The one that writes those terrible sex books?”

“How do you know about the sex books?”

“I was a concubine.” She said bluntly, hands brushing against the sleeves of her kimono as if the mere mention of her past caused it to settle on her like dust in the air. “People liked to reenact scenes from their favourite book.”

“So, you’re a good authority to say that they’re terrible?”

“If that man has ever made a real woman actually orgasm in his presence then I’ll give Fire my palace.”

Tsunade doubled over in a coughing fit, choked laughter escaping her mouth as she straightened up.

“That’s certainly one way to put it.”

...

“Remember what we discussed.” Tsunade stressed as they walked through the courtyard to the gates of the palace, Kamui nodding along attentively. “No raw fish, no alcohol, meat must always be well cooked, and you need to gain some weight.”

“Of course.” Kamui nodded, though she was internally morning the loss of her most intricate red kimonos for at least a year while she had to switch to looser and lighter fabrics.

“You will be okay Kamui, all scans point to a very low chance of a miscarriage.” She continued, glancing to her as they both stopped by the open gates, Kamui eyeing the caravan awaiting Tsunade, piled high with the finest of alcohol and royal seals of approval for her work.

It was the least she could do for what Tsunade had done for her.

“Tsunade, wait.” Kamui called out, catching the woman’s arm before she could fully leave. “I-”

She cut herself off, eyebrows scrunching together as she let go of the older woman’s arm as Tsunade turned to her, face painted in confusion as Shizune lingered near the stocked carriage.

“Yes?”

“I wanted to tell you how much this meant to me, and to thank you properly for all of it.” She stated, straightening her back and folding her arms together. “I know you can never view me as anything close to a friend, but the palace will be open to you if you ever find yourself in Moon once more.”

Tsunade sighed heavily, glancing briefly at Kamui’s clothed abdomen before speaking.

“It was nice, to use my expertise to make life rather than save it or kill.” The older saanin breathed in heavily, blue eyes staring deeply into Kamui’s dark ones. “Plus, they will be loved, and that’s all you can ask for any child.”

“Have a safe travel.” Kamui smile softly, bowing her head to the older woman. “I will pray for your safety and success.”

“I don’t believe Empress, the only god I listen to is that of science.” Tsunade shrugged, bowing her head politely towards Kamui as she turned towards the carriage.

“The sentiment remains.”

…

“Naruto’s graduation is soon.” Kamui said, staring ahead at the sunset while Obito rested his chin against her shoulder. “I want to go.”

“Kaguya may be manipulative by nature, but it’s unlikely that she would lie.” Her husband hummed in response, Kamui was stood close enough to feel the low vibrations ripple through his chest. “It’s too big of a security risk.”

“The day is important to Naruto. Therefore, it is important to me.”

“Of course, dearest.” Obito agreed. “We will celebrate with him when the day arrives. However, we cannot go to Konoha. Rasa is already petitioning us to take Gaara to him so that he can slowly acclimate to Sand before he moves permanently, Naruto will understand that we are needed elsewhere.”

“I do not like it.”

“I know, dearest.” Obito hummed once more, drawing Kamui into a brief one sided hug. “I know.”

…

For all of her hatred for the other man, and his stupidity, Rasa had a very valid point.

It would be no good for anyone involved to just drop Gaara back in Sand one day. It was much better to introduce him back in slowly, so he was able to slowly adjust to his new surroundings and new caregivers.

He still needed support, needed familiarity in a new place.

So, that was how Kamui found herself in a neutral patch of desert in Sand, waiting to escort Gaara around the hidden city for a day to reintroduce him to Sand culture and people, hoping to ease the anxiety before he would move back with them entirely.

“We’ll be with you the entire time.” She said reassuringly, squeezing Gaara’s hand with a small smile. “After this, we can go and get ice cream and cake with Naruto, I believe you’ll both have much to talk about.”

Across in Fire, Naruto would be doing his final academy exams, and Kamui prayed for both of her boys.

They stopped several feet away from Rasa’s retinue, Kamui’s own group of guards stopping behind them, much smaller in number than the group Rasa had brought along.

Kamui’s eyebrows raised in question, glancing cautiously at her husband as he placed a hand on the sword strapped onto his back.

“Any reason for the cavalry, Rasa?” She questioned, taking a few steps closer, her hand still tight around Gaara’s.

“Bring the boy.” Was all Rasa had to say in reply.

“Kamui.” Obito called out, Kamui pausing where she stood. “Don’t go any closer.”

She swallowed heavily, looking down at her feet, trying desperately to hide the cold rush of fear from Gaara. Kneeling down, she took both of Gaara’s hands in her own, smiling sweetly as he looked at her in confusion.

“Be a good boy.” She told him, planting a small kiss on his forehead. “Remember what I told you about Sand and their culture, and to not respond to any provocations with violence, it discredits your voice further down the line.”

“Yes Mother.” Gaara nodded, glancing at an expecting Rasa and shuffling between his feet.

“Gaara.” She said seriously, dark eyes staring into pale ones. “Listen to me. No matter what they tell you. No matter what they do. Remember that I love you more anything.”

Gaara’s confusion heightened as Kamui placed another gentle kiss to the top of his head straightening up and breathing out slowly.

“Obito.” She whispered, eyes wide in suppressed panic as she turned back to her husband. “I can’t move my feet.”

The last thing she sees is the sheer panic on her husbands face, and then everything erupts into chaos.

The sand around her shot into the air with the speed of a canon, obscuring her view of everything around her, moving with the force of a storm underneath her feet. It circled and twisted around her like her own private sandstorm and her hand tightened around Gaara’s, trying desperately to pull him into the circle with her, only for her hand to come back empty.

“Gaara.” She gasped in horror, lifting her head to stare at the swirling sand. “Gaara!”

“Mother!” A muffled voice screamed in the distance. “Mother!”

“Rasa!” She screamed into the sand, faintly hearing the commotion outside of it but unable to see anything as she tried to reach through the whirlwind of sand, desperately hoping for Gaara’s hand to still be there, praying for the impossible. “I’ll kill you for this, Rasa!”

It was not an empty threat.

The sand picked up, rising higher into the sky, high enough to drown out the sun as Kamui spun around desperately.

“Obito!” She screamed, doubling over and coughing violently as the sand spun into her lungs, tears welling in her eyes out of panic. “Obito!”

Desperately glancing around, Kamui tried to find a gap in the violent whirlwind of sand, drawing her kimono closer to her face as the rocks bit at her skin, her left hand blindly waving out in a desperate hope to disperse the thick wall of sand that had built itself up around her. The sand beneath her feet fell away, revealing a glowing rune that she did not have hope of deciphering.

“Runes have meaning.” She muttered to herself, falling to her knees as the wind picked up higher and higher, blowing her hair wildly around hair as the pins fell from their confines, dancing in the air before disappearing within the sand. Her hands tightened around the grains, the rune below her shining even brighter even as she dug desperately at the lines in hopes of disrupting it.

Panic was weighing heavy on her chest, dragging its way up her throat as she choked on the sand around her, a hand finding itself pressed against her still flat abdomen as she stared hopelessly at the seal below her. She couldn’t do anything. There was no way out, there was no way for Obito to get in. Kamui had no idea what this seal did, whether it trapped her here for an eternity or whether it just killed her. Maybe that was the true horror of it all, the not knowing.

Maybe this was how the old daimyo felt meeting Kamui’s eyes across the banquet table all those years ago, choking on his own blood while she had stared him down mercilessly. Maybe this was how Obito felt when he discovered that she had poisoned him. Maybe this was how Zetsu felt seconds before he finally died. Maybe this was how Kaguya felt knowing that she could never be free.

Maybe this is her karma, maybe this is the justice that the gods bestow.

“Please.” She begged the seal, not knowing what else to say as her eyes pooled with tears, finger sinking further into the sand. “Please.”

Please let the gods be merciful.

But Kamui knows that they are not.

The sand fell with a suddenness that was akin to curtains being thrown open to let the morning let in. Startling you out of a weary haze, thrusting you into a choking alertness while still blinking away the soft hands of sleep and comfort.

“Kamui no Chaba.” Sarutobi’s voice is booming as she stares at the grass beneath her, scattered clumps of sand laying in piles around her, scattering in the light breeze to give way to grass and mud that stains her hands and clothes. She doesn’t look at him. Can’t look at him. Too busy staring as the rune faded of all its power, growing cold underneath her fingertips. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Daimyo Jeng, the murder of esteemed councilman Henzo Banri, aiding in the murder of the saanin Orochimaru, and conspiracy to release a tailed beast. How do you plead?”

Slowly, Kamui turned her head to look at him, a scowl fixed firmly on her face, dark eyes peering through thick lashes to stare up at him, makeup smeared and ink black hair wild and loose around her.

Sarutobi stood tall, prideful under his Hokage hat as if he had fixed a great injustice. He was flanked on all sides by numerous high level ninja, all of them posed as if she was about to unleash a wild jutsu to fight them all.

“Go to hell.” Kamui croaked out in reply.

Her cheek hit the cold wet earth, the world fading to black before they could taunt her further.

…

They take away all of her jewels, any ornate pins still within her hair were pulled out with little care, the red lotus painted on her forehead to denote her status is wiped away like it means nothing. Her exquisitely embroidered red kimono and throne is traded for a plain shirt, standard issue trousers, and a wooden chair in the torture and interrogation department.

Because of course they had a torture and interrogation department.

Kamui stared into the two way glass, grinding her teeth as nausea settled in the back of her throat, knowing that it was no longer just the morning sickness.

The guard is not gentle as he drags her up from the chair, fingers tight enough to leave bruises, as she planted unsteady feet onto the ground, casting a harsh glare towards the stone faced, unnamed guard as she did so.

“This is going against so many international laws that its almost laughable.” Kamui hissed at Sarutobi as he walked in, that damned Hokage hat still planted firmly on his head, obscuring half of his face from view. “You can’t do this to me. No matter what crimes you accuse me off, I am still an Empress.”

“Accused?” Sarutobi repeated, staring back at her coldly. “Kamui, you have been found guilty.”

“By what jury?” She seethed, grinding her teeth even further as the grip around her arm tightened. “By what judge? By what trial? Am I not allowed to defend myself to your legal system? Am I not allowed a representative? Or perhaps I should vote a champion for my honour, seeing as you prefer to be barbaric?

“It’s been determined by the council that you are too high profile to stay within the prison system, and it is the first place your husband will look.” Sarutobi continued, speaking as if she had not said a word, but the news of her husband made Kamui’s ears prick.

He lived.

He was still out there, Gaara and the Akatsuki also most likely.

They lived.

Kamui concealed the heavy sigh of relief that ran through her, a hand falling onto her abdomen as she stared down Sarutobi.

“Therefore, it’s been decided that you will remain under house arrest at an undisclosed location with one of our best operatives.”

“You want me to play house with my captor?” Kamui choked, her hand dropping from her abdomen. “Where is Naruto? I wish to talk with him.”

“Your access to Naruto will be determined by the operative assigned to you. Furthermore, after the birth, your access to your own child will be determined by an external jury depending on your behaviour and your guilt over your own actions.”

Kamui lunged.

She moved likely a fraction of a centimetre before the operative next to her restrained her, kicking wildly as her arms were restrained behind her back, a yell of frustration screeched across the room as she stared at Sarutobi.

He looked smug, as if he had won, as if this was finally the justice he deserved.

Blowing her hair out of her face, Kamui stilled completely, breathing heavily as the guard behind her slowly loosened their grip on her arms.

“My husband will kill you, Sarutobi.” She swore, her eyes unwavering in their conviction. “He will kill you, and you will now in that moment that you brought this coming hell upon yourself. I would start praying to the gods for mercy, Sarutobi, because I will be praying for you to burn.”

“It’s a good thing I don’t believe in your gods then, doesn’t it?”

“Believe. Don’t believe.” Kamui hummed, her head tilting to the side as she grinned. “You’ll burn either way.”

“Sorry I’m late.” A low voice drawled, as the door opened to the interrogation room, though Kamui didn’t look away from Sarutobi. “There was a cat.”

What?

“As I said.” Sarutobi said, straightening up as he looked down at her. “You’ll be assigned  to a loyal operative at an undisclosed location, you can pray to your gods all you wish to Kamui if it helps you, but your husband is not going to find you. You should be grateful for our mercy, Rasa wanted to kill you.”

She didn’t reply, her eyes sliding towards the figure Sarutobi had gestured to, assuming that this was the supposed operative he was speaking off.

Wait-

Incline your head to the hound and hope for the sweetness of a dead memory.

She could bet anything that Kaguya was currently roaring with laughter from within her lunar prison, laughing from the horrid irony of it all most likely.

“Yo.” Hatake Kakashi waved, as if this was a completely normal occurrence, a standard meet up amongst old friends. A mask was fixed to the lower half of his face, his standard issue Fire headband drawn across his face to conceal the eye that he had stolen from her husband all those years ago.

Kamui’s dark eyes snapped back to Sarutobi.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking.”

Chapter Text

Kakashi Hatake’s favourite colour was blue. Simple. Tasteful. Like the blue sky’s above Konoha, the blue of his uniform as a child, the blue he tied onto Pakkun’s collar whenever the dogs were used on a mission.

It was simple, palatable, understandable, no secret hidden meanings or romantic undertones.

(He can’t look at purple without wanting to throw up, he can’t look at orange, or yellow, or red without wanting to slam his head into a wall repeatedly.)

(He would deserve it.)

Perhaps that’s he was never deeply attached to a colour, he couldn’t even stand to look at himself in the mirror without seeing the ghost of his own father, the ghost of Obito within the concealed eye. He is nothing but a walking memorial for everyone that has ever died on his watch, and he is great at kicking the feeling down deep enough that it doesn’t bother him anymore.

Maybe that’s why his favourite colour is blue.

…

Kamui no Chaba stares like she has seen everything he has ever done, ever thought of doing, and was actively judging him for it.

He doesn’t flinch as he looks back at her, and it surprised him how much smaller she looked without the makeup, the jewels and the outfits. The former Empress had never been an imposing figure, smaller and slimmer than the average shinobi, so pale that she looked like a porcelain doll. She was nowhere near the most threatening person that Kakashi had been forced to guard, nor the most intelligent.

Without the red lotus printed between her eyebrows, without the heavy black kohl shaping her eyes, the red lipstick, no crown, no heavy earrings, no elaborate rings, Kamui looked almost frightfully normal. A standard civilian you would pass on the road, look at once and never think of again.

While they sat in tense silence, Kakashi silently ran through everything that the file they gave him had on her.

Kamui no Chaba, Empress of Moon, the figurehead of the country’s expansion, the introduction of a shinobi system, and golden age. Formally a concubine of Tea, early origins a mystery though rumoured to be from a farming community in eastern Tea. Suspected as a shinobi plant, but this was proven false with the blood they had taken. In a strange twist, the doctors discovered she actually had very little of a chakra system, on the low end of the acceptable range for all living things. No known relatives, all presumed dead. Trained in seduction and diplomacy from her time as the favourite of the Tea daimyo. Evidence points to her being responsible for his murder. Married to known shinobi, Tobi no Chaba, whose previous alliance is unknown, though has a suspected kekkai genkai. Currently six weeks pregnant.

A farm girl, a concubine, an empress, a prisoner.

Years ago, when he had seen her last, she had told him that all sins caught up to them in the end.

Maybe this was it for them, they are each others judgement day.

“Does your daimyo know that I am your unwillingly prisoner?” She asked, tilting her chin upward as she surveyed him.

“He’s the one that signed off on it.” Kakashi admitted, flipping through the folder in his hand. “I believe that you refused to  hand over what had formally been Sound, and he’s held a grudge on you ever since.”

Kamui just stared at him, humming lowly as he skimmed over the notes.

He’d been strongly recommended by the Hokage (forced) to move out of his one bedroom apartment and into his ancestral home that he could never quite make himself sell. The Hatake house was a boathouse on the edge of Konoha, backing onto the Naka River and hidden from sight from an expert liturgy of ruins and privacy wards, put in place to keep the main family safe even as the Hatake clan died out.

He'd not visited since his father had killed himself in that very living room.

He wondered if the ever got the blood out of the carpet or if they had had to replace it entirely.

Now, Kakashi was being forced to playhouse in it with a pregnant woman who currently looked like she wanted nothing more than to rip his head clean off of his shoulders.

He should’ve never agreed to this.

…

Kakashi is trapped in a house full of ghosts, and Kamui no Chaba was one of them.

The ghost of his mother, the ghost of his father, the ghost of Minato, the ghost of Rin, the ghost of Obito, all joined by the silent spectre that was Kamui no Chaba.

She walked around the rooms of the boathouse with a silent grace that almost unnerved him, barely eating, barely sleeping, barely even blinking. Kakahi supposed that he should try to engage her, but even without the glamourous mask of an Empress, there is something almost inhuman about Kamui no Chaba.

Maybe the rumours about her being an incarnation of the goddess Kaguya were true.

The more likely scenario was that he was just going crazy.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

For two weeks, Kamui does not say a word, just stares at him like he’s personally kicked her favourite dog.

And Kakashi wouldn’t kick dogs.

He loves  dogs.

She’s very pretty. The ghost of Obito tells him while Kakashi stares at the book in his hand, eyes glazing over the smut filled scene while his mind focused on Kamui’s stare from across the room. You could do a lot worse for a prisoner.

She’s a tyrant. Kakashi reminds him, turning a page even though he hasn’t read a single word.

A pretty tyrant.

“You can’t be silent forever, you know.” He finally stated, after much probing from his internal Obito.

“No. That would be unreasonable.” Kamui agreed, her soft accent and purring vowels marking her as a Tea native. “You’re an awful prison guard.”

“Am I?” He hummed, turning another page.

“I want to speak to my husband.” She continued as if he hadn’t spoken.

“Your husband is currently stoking the fires of war in your name.” Kakashi replied, finally lifting his only visible eye from the book to look at her. “I don’t think you’ll be talking with him any time soon.”

Tobi no Chaba was a mystery himself. The name was an obvious alias, as the man didn’t respond to it half of the time. His face permanently covered in a black mask, the only part visible was a small cut out for his eye. Even when the face mask was taken off, much like Kakashi he was covered in a black mask that covered half of his face, and a pitch black eye mask that covered his side. He had appeared at Kamui’s side fifteen years ago, had stuck to her like glue, and had evaded any questions about his past ever since.

If Kamui was the brains behind the operation, then her husband was obviously the brawn.

According to some, he used to have a shadow that talked before he killed it, but Kakashi was certain that was just exaggeration.

Tobi was also currently removing any Fire diplomats from Moon and cutting off all trade relations, despite the Hokage’s offer to leave Moon at peace if Tobi handed himself in. According to the diplomat they had sent, who had returned shaking like a leaf, Tobi had taken one look at the proposition before asking if the diplomat knew where Fire was keeping his wife.

The diplomat had also returned with two less fingers than when he had left.

So, no. Kamui was not going to be talking to her husband anytime soon.

She continued to just stare at him, fury rushing through her eyes for a split second before they were completely blank once more. He would bet anything to say that it had been a long time since anyone had told Kamui no.

“I don’t get it.” She said after a moment, eyes scanning him up and down.

“Don’t get what?”

“There’s nothing actually that interesting about you.” She continued, her head perfectly tilted to the side and for a moment he’s reminded of a tiny bird that’s regarding the wall of it’s cage. “I expected more.”

With a low hum, Kamui turned on her heel and walked away, venturing into the depths of the boathouse to do her usual daily routine of haunting the rooms.

He never got the chance to ask her what she had meant by that.

…

Another two weeks pass of her ghostly behaviour until she appears to have a change of heart, approaching him silently with a peace offering.

He took one look at the mug she placed on the table in front of him before slowly sliding it back to her.

“Don’t you like tea?” Kamui asked mildly, blinking innocently, with a perfectly practised tilt to her head. She did that a lot, he had noticed, tilt her head like a tiny inquisitive bird whenever she was curious.

“I do.” He replied, turning a page in his book. “I just prefer it without poison, but you’re welcome to make another one for me.”

Kamui stilled completely, eyes flickering back to the mug before resting on him as he leant back, staring back at her.

“The black tea in the dog mug is my favourite.” He continued, taking her silence as acceptance.

He ducks just in time to avoid the cup hurling towards him, not even looking up from the book as he heard it smash behind him, scolding tea dripping down the walls.

…

“Where did you even get poison from?”

Kamui is her usual silent self as she dropped a single sprig of foxglove onto the kitchen table.

He contracts out a group of genin in their third year of training to dig up all the foxglove in the garden and keeps Kamui away from the windows the entire time that they’re there.

…

It’s a month and a half before he becomes sick of the silent treatment, showing up at Inoichi Yamanka’s office without an appointment before he tears his hair out. Across in Moon, Tobi no Chaba was effectively arguing his case to the Lightning Daimyo but had yet to launch a full scale attack with the use of his own shinobi force.

As typical, the Yamanka’s had performed their usual mind technique in order to gain a confession from Kamui, instead it had caused all the Yamanka interrogators to be unable to look Kamui in the eye, and nothing to say in their report.

Inoichi did not seem surprised to see him when he quietly let himself in.

“From what I’ve seen, the former Empress has built quite an impressive mental block.” Inoichi hummed, looking somber as he stared down at the notes in front of him. “A normal shinobi mental wall shows just as that, a brick wall blocking your path, something  we can dismantle brick by brick if we are well trained. no Chaba however, has done something quite different.”

“What?”

Inoichi sighed heavily, pushing the notes closer to him.

“She traps the shinobi into one specific memory, pushes it into the forefront of her mind with such perfect detail that it’s impossible to look at anything else. A memory so innately wrong it shocks the jutsu caster into retreating back into their own mind just to get away from it.”

He should stop asking questions, stop probing into things he does not have the skill set to deal with. The only problem is, Kakashi has never known when to stop.

“What memory?”

Inoichi breathes out through his teeth, knowing he is obligated to answer Kakashi but desperately not wanting to say.

“She’s thirteen, and the former daimyo of Tea is on top of her.” He said gruffly, pushing the file closer as if ridding himself off it would rid himself off the memory of it. “I’m sure you can fill in the gaps.”

Inoichi’s daughter is eleven.

Kakashi was suddenly very, very aware of why Inoichi didn’t want to speak of it.

…

“What age were you when the Tea daimyo first made you a concubine?” He blurted out, because Kakashi has never had any tact.

Obito groans heavily behind him, and Rin tries to tell him to just leave the poor woman alone dammit.

However, Kakashi needs to know, he needs to hear it for himself. Kamui was never going to be his friend, be a confidant, but she was still a human being. Kakashi needed to know if she knew what happened to her, if she even registered it as happening, if she even knew that what happened to her wasn’t right.

Kamui wasn’t a good person, but neither was he, so he didn’t have a right to condemn her entirely.

“Thirteen.” Kamui said mildly, as if she was just commenting on the weather, or the newest produce at the market. “What is it to you?”

“Have you ever thought that you were too young for what the daimyo forced on you?”

He hated this. He hated everything about this.

“Oh?” Kamui’s eyes blazed with fury. “So, because I have become a victim in your eyes, then I am suddenly worthy of sympathy? Was I not worthy of it before?”

“I’m just saying that maybe Tea wasn’t as great as you made it out to be.”

“Get over yourself Hatake.” Kamui hissed, stepping away from him with a sneer.

“I’m trying to help you.”

“Please.” She scoffed. “Your guilt complex is so big that it has its own guilt complex. I’m nothing like you.”

“Kamui-”

“I’m Hatake Kakashi.” Kamui mocked, throwing her hands in the air as if she was about to go on a grand monologue. Kakashi strongly suspected that was exactly what was happening. “My life was so hard because my father killed himself in front of me, and then my teammates died on the same mission, and it was all my fault because I shouldn’t have been so rash, so stubborn, so prideful. And the worst part of it Hatake? The worst part of it is that I could forgive you for all of it. You learnt your lesson, sound the curtain applause and be done with it. But then, for a reason that I cannot even begin to fathom, even after every lesson the gods have shouted at you, you abandoned an innocent child to a terrible orphanage and a life of ostracization and fear mongering.”

“Who are you even talking about?”

“Naruto!” She screamed, her voice bouncing off of the walls and the runes as she gestured wildly. “Your mentors son! The one you left in that orphanage. Is that what your mentor would’ve wanted? You didn’t even visit him. He doesn’t even know your name. You know who didn’t leave him there? Me. It should’ve been you Hatake, and yet it was me who was doing everything you should’ve been.”

“Because he’s a jinchuriki. Because you gained something from it.”

Kamui paused, the rage slipping from her face as she stared at him in shock.

“Because he was Kushina’s son.” She stated coldly, hands uncurling from where they had formed fists. “And you should’ve been doing the same, because he was also Minato’s son.”

“That’s a state secret.”

“A state secret?” She remarked with a scoff, eyebrows raising. “Not much of a secret, Naruto is practically his clone. Is that why you stayed away from him? Following a request from your Hokage to keep a state secret?”

“Did you kill the daimyo or not?”

“So, what if I did?” She hissed, holding her head high even though there was now very little space between them. “So, what if I didn’t? It doesn’t matter anymore, I’m still stuck here playing your fucking housewife either way.”

Kakashi could snap her neck in a second, wants to push her back and scream back at her about what he’s done for this village, what he’s sacrificed, how she can’t be right because he’s done too much, sacrificed too much for it all to be for nothing.

Obito pats his back and tells him to give her a little space.

She’s pregnant, hormonal, and held prisoner Bakashi, I think she’s allowed to be a bit upset, yeah?

He lets her walk away, and then something occurs to him.

“How did you know about my father?” He called after her, hands shoved deep into his pockets to stop them from shaking.

“The gods see all Hatake.” She replied, not even turning to glance at him as she continued down the corridor. “And they know all.”

…

“Did she confess?” Sarutobi asks him at their biweekly meeting, not looking up from where he was planning the new genin teams for the academy graduates.

“No.” Kakashi stated evenly, knowing that he should elaborate. Tell the hokage of what words were exchanged, tell him what Inoichi had said, tell him about the poison, but he doesn’t.

“I knew she wouldn’t.” Sarutobi sighed heavily, placing down another small polaroid. “Good work so far Hatake.”

It’s a dismissal, but Kakashi finds himself rooted on the spot, staring at a polaroid currently discarded to the side of the desk. A tiny picture of Naruto Uzumaki beamed back at him on the desk, a near clone of his father and Kakashi’s sensei.

You didn’t even visit him. He doesn’t even know your name. You know who didn’t leave him there? Me. It should’ve been you Hatake.

(Eh, she’s got a point bakashi…)

“Do you still need an extra jonin commander?” He asked, locking his arms behind his back, ripping his only available eye away from the picture. “The seals around the estate are perfect, and it will divert suspicion away from me as her guardian if I was seen as having a genin team.”

“I thought I’d never convince you.” Sarutobi chuckled, glancing down at the names on his list. “Hm, I can add you as a final addition.”

“On one condition.”

“Yes?”

“I have Naruto Uzumaki on my genin team.” He stated, eyes moving back to the tiny polaroid of the beaming child. “He’s my sensei’s son Hokage, I will teach him like his father taught me.”

Sarutobi nodded sagely, drawing away Naruto’s picture from the side.

“You’ll be a good mentor.” The Hokage nodded. “The will of Fire will burn through every child you teach.”

Kakashi isn’t certain that he’s felt the will of Fire in years.

However, that’s between him and his ceiling late at night.

(And Kamui, because Kamui looks at him like she’s seen into the very caverns of his soul and hates all of it.)

…

Like that, Kakashi suddenly has a genin team.

They passed the bell test, which had honestly surprised him, but they still had a long way to go if they ever wanted to call themselves a team.

Uchiha Sasuke, desperate to prove himself to be the same calibre as his older brother and failing at every turn.

Haruno Sakura, crushingly civilian, perfume too strong and to willing to abandon everything for a crush that won’t look at her.

Uzumaki Naruto, whose sunshine behaviour had dimmed significantly now that his ‘Mui-nee was proclaimed a prisoner of Fire.

‘Mui-nee.

Kakashi had known Kamui for almost two months, and even he could tell that that particular nickname had not come from her.

It’s hopeless, it’s awful, they were all brats.

Now, Kakashi was stuck teaching them.

Fuck the guilt complex. Fuck Kamui being right. Fuck that he had to look Minato’s clone in the face and lie to him. Fuck that he had to be the one to keep Kamui away from him.

Against his best judgement, he tells her about his genin team, and for a split second, he genuinely thought that he had sent her mad.

Because Kamui simply threw back her head and positively cackled at the news.

…

“Do you simply not have friends?”

“I have friends.”

“Really? Why don’t I ever see any of them?”

“Because you’re a prisoner.”

“Am I? Forgive me, the fact must’ve slipped my mind.”

…

“Your taste in literature is terrible.” She proclaimed one day, chopsticks in hand as he slouched  across from the table, at three months pregnant she was finally eating more, and a small bump was obvious from some angles and clothing choices. “I pray you’re not reading that around the children.”

She had found his mothers old kimono’s in the attic, a soft blue and lilac in comparison to the red attire she was infamous for wearing. However, it was obvious that she felt more comfortable in kimonos and loose dresses than standard issue trousers, so he had not voiced any complaint when she started wearing them.

Even if it did take him a week to look at her without flinching.

“So, what if I am?” He asked, turning another page and grabbing the mug in front of him, slowly inhaling the steam for a  second before placing it back in front of Kamui. “I thought we were over the poison thing?”

“Will you let me write to my husband?”

From what he’d been informed, Tobi no Chaba had begun to target Fire outposts and ports throughout the Great Nations, brushing over Fire’s borders  but never entering. Lawyers were arguing over each other in international courts, and the Lightning daimyo had sent a personal plea to the Fire daimyo for the release of Kamui no Chaba.

“No.”

“Then we’re not over the poison thing.”

“Where did you even get it from?”

…

The buttercups of all things.

The first time she had done it, Kakashi had personally told the genin team to dig up any plants with poisonous properties, but apparently they had missed the tiny patch of buttercups at the very back of the garden.

Kamui hadn’t, because Kamui had been brewing a cordial with them for the past week when Kakashi was training the brats, and Pakkun hadn’t though it important because dogs were colourblind and thereby couldn’t differentiate a poisonous plant from a non-toxic one.

“Sorry boss.” The pug said gruffly, sitting guard next to him as they both looked at the buttercups. “In our defence, she does give very good head scratches with those lovely nails of hers.”

He needed to get Kamui out of the house, before she moved on from poisons and decided that bludgeoning him in the head with a cooking pan was a brilliant idea.

She wouldn’t be the first.

…

With the gruff approval of the Hokage, Kakashi manages to escort Kamui to the edges of Konoha, a cabin on the other side of the Naka River, used mainly as a holiday retreat for the rich merchants and their families that travelled through Fire.

Secluded, relatively unknown, perfect for what he needed it for.

“You’re late.” Sakura scolded him as he appeared behind the three pups, hovering on the trunk of the tree nearby to the cabin.

“Am I?” He asked, raising his eyebrows though the movement was lost behind his headband. “So, it appears I am. Apologies, a scorned Empress attempted to poison me.”

It technically wasn’t a lie, but all three brats stared at him like they wanted to kick his face in.

“Come on.” He said brightly after a moment, turning to walk the path towards the cabin. “There’s someone I want you to meet. An important someone. Consider it a chance to practice your guarding skills and customer relations with civilians.”

“That’s a waste of time.” Sasuke grumbled, kicking at stones while they approached the door. “We need to practice our jutsu, not how we talk to civilians.”

“Oh,” He hummed in response, pushing open the door. “But this isn’t any civilian. May I introduce Kamui no Chaba, the former Empress of Moon.”

Kamui rose to greet them confusion colouring her face before a blur of orange nearly knocked her over.

“’Mui-nee!” Naruto cheered, throwing his arms around her as Kamui embraced him without a second thought.

The former Empress didn’t reply, burying her face in Naruto’s hair, her grip on him never faltering while the ball of energy began rambling on about his academy exam and the stupid missions that he had to go on. How it was terrible that they had separated her from ‘Obi-nii’ and that Kamui had to tell him everything about how the baby was.

“That’s Kamui no Chaba.” Sakura whispered softly, while Sasuke looked even more confused but had chosen to stand slightly straighter than he had before. “Oh, my gods, that’s Kamui no Chaba.”

…

For an hour, Sakura followed Kamui like a lost puppy, gazing up at her with wide eyes while Kamui humoured the stories about their D-Rank exploits.

“I read you were a courtesan before.” Sakura spoke up timidly when Naruto and Sasuke got into another glaring match. “It seems so romantic, to be so beautiful that you are whisked off into the palace to like a princess.”

For a moment Kamui completely froze, staring at Sakura like she had been struck, the expression only lasting a fraction of a second before it was buried under a polite smile. However, Kakashi had seen it, seen the fraction second of horror in Kamui’s eyes, seen the way the muscles in her fingers twitched.

He was forced into the cold horror of sudden realisation.

Sakura was twelve, and Kamui had been thirteen when the daimyo had chosen her.

What had she seen for that split moment that made her recoil in horror? Was it herself? All those years before? Misty eyed on the gates of the palace, forced to dress in seductive plunging layers while there was still baby fat on her cheeks?

Him and Kamui were around the same age, her being only three years older than him. While he was going on his first genin missions, Kamui had been forced to smile and please men so much older than she was.

“Being a courtesan is a noble duty.” Kamui nodded sagely, though the words seemed strangely practiced, like she had repeated the words to herself a hundred times over. “Though, not one I would be envious of. Being a shinobi is a grand undergoing, to aid your country in a way only you can is something you should be proud of.”

“I think that being a courtesan would be a lot simpler than what their forcing us to do now.”

“Flower,” Kamui hummed softly, leaning closer to her after a quick glance at Kakashi over her shoulder. “Do you want to be a mans courtesan? It is not an easy job, you must retain perfection at all times or be discarded, you must never complain, you must always smile and please. If the man tells you to jump, then there is no time for any further questions. You jump and pray that was exactly how they wanted it.”

“That sounds awful.” Sakura confessed, wrinkling her nose at the thought.

“It is a reality to many that were not blessed with the same opportunities you have been, and you would disregard the wealth of opportunities in front of you to be a second sons wife?”

Kamui lifted an eyebrow as if to question if all of the effort that Sakura was putting in was worth it for a son that would inherit nothing in comparison to his brother. If Kamui had been in Sakura’s position, Kakashi had no doubt that she would be targeting Itachi Uchiha instead.

“No.” Sakura decides slowly, glancing back at Sasuke like she suddenly saw something that she had not noticed before. “I guess not.”

Kamui no Chaba and an Uchiha having a child, Kakashi would thank the gods every day that that particular mess of a genetic combination would never be a reality.

…

The skirmishes with Tea pick up four months in, members of Moon’s elite Akatsuki were spotted at the mouth of Naka River, the squadron that faced them had to all be treated for life threatening injuries, Fire shinobi are barred from moving through Rain, and the lack of imports from Moon had begun to affect their economy.

Tea leaves had become more expensive, jewellery commissions become impossible to obtain, as well as silk from the usually unstoppable trade routes through Moon and Sand.

Tobi no Chaba was spotted standing on the boundary of Moon and Fire, sword in hand, simply staring at the patrol squad that come upon him, not moving a single muscle, his usual mask in place as one dark eye scanned the patrol. Then, according to the testament of the baffled patrol, he had simply vanished.

He’s sent away from the room when they questioned Kamui about it.

According to the shinobi that had been in the room, the former Empress had simply told him to go fuck himself.

…

At six months, Kamui’s pregnancy is too relevant to push to the back of his mind anymore, the bump now incredibly obvious no matter what she wore, and on multiple occasions Kakashi finds Kamui staring into the mirror, one hand on the bump.

He was suddenly reminded of his mother, who died in the same bed that Kamui had been sleeping in, round with a new sibling, but the gods had chosen to make her ill instead. There had been nothing anyone was able to do, no matter how much his father had tried.

In three months, there will be a baby in the Hatake main house for the first time in twenty seven years, and it’s because Kakashi is holding a woman against her will.

He can’t look at her, doesn’t want to look at her, every ghost that was trapped in his house glared at him and commiserated on his terrible decision making.

…

“Did you always want children?” He asked over the dinner table, putting a jutsu over his face as he ate so that she could not see him.

They would never be friends, but since Kakashi had allowed her access to Naruto, Kamui had been perfectly civil. Arguably, even nice at times. She avoided him most of the times except out of necessity

“No.” Kamui admitted, picking at her vegetables with her own chopsticks. “The need to be a parent never occurred to me, though I suppose it’s very easy to argue that I already had two children despite everything. Having a child was always about duty, rather than something I innately wanted.”

“Well, at least you get to have a good time making one.” He joked, Kamui looking up at him blinking in surprise while he focused on his food.

“Oh.” She whispered after a moment, as if she had only just registered the nature of his bad joke. “I guess you could argue that I did see a god during the process.”

He choked on his rice in reply, cheeks reddening in response to the comment while Kamui simply took another bite of food.

…

Things became desperate when Danzo died, found poisoned in his bed with staff that didn’t know anything, saw no one, and heard nothing.

Kamui took one look at the newspaper, pages filled with obituaries to the great Fire shinobi, and threw it in the Fire with a happy hum, smiling as if she had just won a grand battle.

Kakashi was becoming fairly certain that the months of captivity had finally driven her insane.

…

There’s a new Kazekage.

Kakashi doesn’t look at Kamui as she devoured the words printed on the newspaper in front of, the beginnings of a baby bump becoming evident under her plain standard issue clothes.

KAZEKAGE REPLACED BY YOUNGEST SON WITH SUPPORT FROM COUNCIL AND OTHER NATIONS

The newspaper proclaimed in bold letters on the first page, accompanied by the picture of the stoic faced child prodigy that had done it.

“My son.” Kamui whispered under her breath, so low that it was only due to Kakashi’s shinobi training that he heard her. “Oh, my clever boy.”

Kakashi never had the tact for politics, he had no need for it. The Hatake were no longer a prestigious clan, no longer holding a high seat on the council. Though he knew that much like Moon, and Tea before it, Sand operated on an almost monarchical system, its Kazekage operating as both a shinobi leader and a civilian one, though the civilians referred to them as Pharoh instead of Kazekage. An inherited title that was kept within families rather than being nominated by outsiders.

When one Kazekage made bad decisions, it wasn’t uncommon that their child would force them into an early retirement and take over after proving their worthiness through both politics and battle. Though, the child didn’t tend to be so young.

Gaara had spent a long time as Kamui’s ward, notorious for remaining at her side at all times, appealing to the court with a profound connection and control over the chakra of the one tailed.

Now, Gaara no Sabaku was the Kazekage.

Meaning they had most definitely lost the support of Sand in their campaign against Moon.

Shit.

Kakashi doesn’t even complain when he’s called into the Hokage’s office by a tense ANBU, and Kamui doesn’t look up from the paper to watch him leave, too busy scanning the words, hand clutched on the paper so tightly that he was surprised it had yet to rip.

When he appeared in the office, he wasn’t surprised to find a copy of the same paper laying on the Hokage’s desk, along with a simple letter, stamped with the official seal of the new Kazekage.

“When we heard news of the possible ascension of the former Kazekage’s son.” Sarutobi started, his voice grave and fingers steepled. “I had the forethought to write to the young man, offering our knowledge and support for his ascension, expressing our hope that he would help fight against the oppressive force of Moon. Make Moon accept that we had no more quarrel with them. Continue his father’s legacy.”

“Gaara is not Rasa’s legacy.” Kakashi stated calmly, listing the facts as if this was nothing more than the usual mission report.  “He is Kamui’s.”

The Hokage only sighed heavily, weighed down by the weight of his position.

“It seems you and Gaara no Sabuku are of one mind in that regard.”

Kakashi stepped closer, reading the stamped letter that was offered to him.

Your offer of friendship was received with much amusement, yet the only chance of any trace of friendship to be possible between us was if you arrived on the doorstep of Sand and allowed me to place your severed head on a pike.

Alas, you must understand Hokage, my Mother is my fury, and I am my Mother’s.

Return my Mother, submit yourself to international justice, and perhaps I will convince Father to kill you quickly.

Regards,

Gaara no Sabuku

Kazekage and Rightful Pharoh of Sand

…

“What does that even mean?” He gripes to Asuma later that night, clutching his soju close to his chest.

Asuma only snorted around his cigarette, both of them forced outside of the house as Kamui had proclaimed that smoking was a disgusting habit that she didn’t want around her growing child.

Kakashi would bet anything she just wanted both of them to sit out in the cold.

“My Mother is my fury, and I am my Mother’s.” Asuma repeated, breathing out smoke as he chuckled. “I’m fairly certain he’s just telling you to fuck off.”

…

One day, Itachi Uchiha came over for a drink, wanting to talk about his brothers progress on Kakashi’s genin team. The ANBU trained jonin had made it three steps inside the boathouse before freezing.

Itachi stared, and Kamui stared back from where she was chewing on her dumpling.

“Sensei.” Itachi said, because the kid had never quite shook off calling him that from the times they were both in the ANBU. “Why is Kamui no Chaba in your house?”

“She’s the prisoner. Sorry, I thought you knew.” He shrugged, Kamui shooting him a pointed look from where she was chewing her dumpling. “You weren’t made aware?”

“No.” Itachi said slowly, glancing back at Kamui while they both ventured outside into the cool autumn air. “I didn’t.”

It should’ve set off so many red flags, they way they had looked at each other in that brief second, the way Kamui had grinned the second they turned their backs, the way Itachi glanced into the shadows of the forest like he couldn’t quite meet Kakashi’s gaze.

He should’ve noticed.

He should’ve realised.

He didn’t.

…

Ghosts of the past haunted Kakashi, whispering to each other and to him from the back of his subconscious, the echo of more than two pairs of feet ran across the floor of the boathouse as the memories haunted him every night.

Obito spoke to him the most, always ready to  poke at him with a grin and a grand speech about teamwork.

Kakashi supposed that he deserved it, to be haunted by the man he failed the most, to always carry a heavy reminder of the duty Obito had bestowed him with.

The house is quiet as he entered, but that wasn’t strange, the dogs grew lazy in the winter chill, usually leaving Kamui to read by the fire by herself, protected by an army of runes and alarms. Like usual,  he found her on the kitchen table, a history book in hand, scanning the words and flipping through the pages with a soft hum.

“Naruto is doing better with his jutsu.” He stated, Kamui only glancing at him for a moment before turning back to her book.

“My husband taught him well.” She agreed lightly, placing her book down and leaning back in her seat. “You know, I came to a realisation recently.”

“Go on.”

“My husband, in all his own convoluted feelings, truly did think that you were very clever. However, I think he’s wrong. Your clever, you can memorise the facts, but ultimately you are blinded by your guilty conscience enough that you are just following orders, no true recollection of what is happening around you.”

“What do you mean by that?” He asked,  spinning on his heel and slipping his feet into a protective stance as the shadow behind him moved, a flash of red in the darkness of a winter sky. “What did you do Kamui?”

“Me?” Kamui blinked, tilting her head to the side. “Well, I didn’t do anything. This has been interesting Hatake, but I’m quite tired of playing house with you now, and I want to go home.”

His hand reached for the blade by his side, twisting it between his fingers as he scanned the darkness.

A hand reaches out from the darkness, pushing him forward slightly as Kamui rolled her eyes.

“Dearest.” She said, eyes resting on something that he could not see. “I’m bored.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Kakashi’s gripped tightened on his knife, but he froze as a familiar laugh echoed around the boathouse, a tall figure with heavy scarring stepping out of the shadows.

“Come on darling.” He said, dark hair covering the top of his face, a sword strapped to his back but not unsheathed, hand shoved into his cargo trousers. “You’re ruining my dramatic entrance.”

Kakashi has always been haunted by ghosts, he just hadn’t realised he’d gotten to the point of vivid hallucinations. His mouth was dry, his mind was running a thousand miles a second, his hands were trembling and suddenly he’s back at that damned bridge, that same crooked smile directed at him.

“I believe you’ve met my husband before.” Kamui spoke, shoulders vibrating with the force she was grinning. “However, reintroductions may be in order. May I introduce you to my husband Hatake? His name is Obito.”

Obito Uchiha turned to face him, just as alive as he had been the day that damned bridge had collapsed, the day he had given Kakashi his eye.

“Hey Bakashi.” He grinned, stopping to stand next to his wife. And shit- Obito has a wife, the fucker had been dead for years and even he got a proper relationship before Kakashi did. “You really do have terrible luck at times, don’t you?”

Obito Uchiha wasn’t dead.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He barely registered the look they gave each other as the kunai in his hand clattered uselessly to the floor.

Chapter Text

Maybe Hatake was right, and the captivity was turning her mildly insane.

Kamui considered the buttercups on the chopping bored in front of her, scratching behind Pakkun’s ears before she scraped the crushed flowers into the bottle of distilled water to leave on the windowsill in her room. It would take two weeks for the poison to diffuse into the water, and it wouldn’t be enough to kill the idiot, but hopefully it would be enough to hurt him.

Luckily enough for her, even ninja dogs were colour blind. She thought they would’ve found a way around that, but apparently the idea had never occurred to them.

Idiots.

Incline your head to the hound and hope for the sweetness of a dead memory.

They could take her clothes, her jewelry, her crown, her freedom, but they will not take her dignity. She would only bow when hell rose and the moon fell from its heavenly cradle. She may not even bow then. She might be stuck playing some sort of perverted mirror image of happy families with the man that had left her real husband to die, she may not be able to leave, but by the gods above she was never going to make his life easy.

Screwing on the top of the bottle tightly, Kamui grinned victoriously.

…

Obito had always been dramatic.

After knowing both Itachi and Shisui, Kamui was beginning to believe that specific trait was entirely genetic. She prayed to the gods that their child didn’t inherit it.

So, she wasn’t completely surprised when he silently melted out of the shadows of the boathouse, the sword she gave him over a decade ago strapped onto his back and a grin plastered onto his face.

 “My darling Kamui.” Obito hummed softly, stepping forward and holding her face gently in his hands. “My darling, clever, brilliant wife. My own memories do not do you justice. I have missed you so much, I have screamed at the moon and raged at the sky for your return. I have bartered with snakes and spilt blood at your altar all for this moment.”

Her husband had always been dramatic, but in that moment Kamui couldn’t bring herself to care.

With a wet laugh, she threw her arms around him, tears staining the fabric of his jumper and her loose black hair flying in every direction as he lifted her off of the ground, spinning in a small circle as their foreheads rested against the others.

“Obito.” She whispered, his name like a prayer that had finally been answered. “I thought you wouldn’t make it in time.”

“Kamui, not even the gods would’ve been able to stop me.”

“I’m assuming Itachi told you everything.” She hummed lowly, burying her face into his jumper with a small laugh.

“My darling Kamui.” He murmured into her hair, hands everywhere at once, while he stared down at her with a grin. “My beautiful, vicious, darling Kamui. Did you make it difficult for them?”

“I tried to poison him.” She paused for a moment, smiling sweetly even though the expression was hidden in the fabric of his jumper. “Twice.”

“I heard.” His grin spread even wider. “I also heard that you told the Hokage to fuck off.”

“I may have lapsed in my usual speech patterns.”

“Hidan almost killed himself laughing.”

“It’s a good thing he can’t permanently die then, is it not?”

“You made Gaara Kazekage.” She murmured, running a hand across his scars while he breathed out heavily, shoulders slumping as if he was suddenly unburdened from a great weight.

“I admit, that was more Sasori than me.” Her husband murmured, his only eye spinning red with power as he stared back at her. “You’d be appalled how easy it was to get him into Sand.”

“Gaara is Kazekage.” She breathed out, feeling as if she was going slightly mad from the absurdity of it all.

“As he was always meant to be.” Obito stated as if it was the easiest thing in the world. “I hope our newest child isn’t causing you too much harm?”

“They kick.” Kamui smiled, breathing slowly in an effort to reclaim her forgotten composure. “They’re certainly strong.”

“With you as a mother, that comes as no surprise.” Obito grinned, running a hand over her  swollen abdomen, having grown infinitely larger in the nearly seven months they had been apart. “Now, what do you want to do about Kakashi?”

…

“And you say that I’m dramatic.” Obito muttered lowly, both of them exchanging a look as Kakashi’s knife clattered  to the floor.

“Really not the time dearest.” She muttered back, watching Hatake carefully as he stared wordlessly at them both. “I think we’ve broken him.”

“It’s probably just the shock.” Her husband shrugged, looking his old teammate up and down. “Hey, bakashi, get up.”

“I’m dead.” Hatake muttered to himself, eyes flickering between them rapidly. “This isn’t real. This is an hallucination.”

“Aw, are you dreaming about me Hatake?” Obito grinned, hauling him up by his collar and sending Kamui a wide grin while she rolled her eyes. “Dearest, he’s dreaming of us.”

“I heard.” She hummed softly.

“You need to hand yourself in.” Kakashi was beginning to become delusional it seemed. “If you hand yourself in and explain everything then you can come back Obito, you can come back home.”

“I think it’s too late for that Kakashi.” Obito replied, letting go of him as Kakashi scrambled to stand up straight.

“No. No, it’s not too late.” Kakashi shook his head, as if trying to shake himself from a dream. “We just need to explain to the Hokage, and he’ll let you come back. He’ll let all of this go, if he understood that it was you that was doing it. We-”

“It’s too late for all of that.” Obito interrupted, Kamui stepping back and watching them both carefully, the desperation in Kakashi’s only visible eye, and the hollow pain in her husbands. “It was too late when you left me in that cave, it was too late when Rin stepped in front of that chidori, it was too late when you left Naruto in an orphanage. It was too late when you imprisoned my wife and child.”

“The Hokage will understand!” Voices were beginning to raise.

“The Hokage wants our heads on sticks!” Obito shouted back, the deep tenor of his voice vibrating across the lofty ceilings of the boat house. “And he’ll put my child with the Uchiha because he can, because no one will question it. He’ll put my wife on death row for a crime she didn’t commit, and he’ll do all of it without thinking because we’re apparently a threat to Fire.”

“You’re a Konoha shinobi Obito, of a noble clan, he’ll have second thoughts when he knows it’s one of us in charge.”

“So, when I reveal I’m from Fire, that is going to make all the difference.” Obito scoffed, folding his arms in front of him. “I reveal that I used to be one of his fire drunk child soldiers and suddenly I’m a good person?”

“I’m not from Fire.” Kamui muttered, her native Tea accent evident to anyone that listened.

“Precisely.” Her husband nodded sagely. “Does that automatically make her an enemy?”

“She’s a tyrant, Obito.” Kakashi hissed out, exasperated.

“I have never denied that.” Kamui pointed out, though she was certain neither of them were listening to her by that point.

“And you left me to die.” Obito replied, staring down Kakashi even though they were of a similar height. “So, I guess none of us are particularly good people.”

Kakashi stopped, staring at Obito as if he had been struck, shoulders slumping before his jaw clenched.

“If you’re not going to come willingly, then I’m going to have to take you to the Hokage by force.”

“Of course you are.” Kamui sighed softly, tilting her head as she stepped back several paces.

“You imprison my wife, threaten the safety of my child, and now you expect me to go with you?” Obito barked a harsh laugh, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers and rocking on the balls of his feet. “I’ve got to admit, bakashi, that’s a new one even for you.”

“You sacrificed yourself for Konoha, for your teammates, and now you’re aiding a woman deluded by her own propaganda.” Kakashi hissed, gesturing wildly over to her.

“Oh, Hatake.” She purred lowly. “And I thought we were getting along so well these past few months?”

Obito’s only eye was dark, staring at Hatake and spinning red with ancestral power. His shoulders tense under his jumper, a lone scarred hand slowly reaching for the sword strapped onto his back. Under the soft light of the boat house, her husband struck no image of something holy or angelic, that title was more likely to go to Kakashi. With silver hair and a face full of almost a biblical level of anguish, Kakashi Hatake looked as if the gods themselves had spurned him for doing nothing but being righteous. Such is the fickle temperament of gods. With the sword slowly being drawn from its sheath, the setting sun reflecting the light of it along the wooden walls, Obito was more akin to the god that had cast him down.

Kamui was never one to  claim biblical justice,  the will of the gods was as elusive to her as it was to any peasant or scholar, but in that singular moment she would’ve built an alter for her husband until her nails bled as a sacrifice to his mercy.

The clash of steel onto steel is enough to get her to turn onto her heel and run for the stairs, hiking up the kimono that was slightly too big for her to move in quickly without tripping. The sound of her husbands laughter echoed across the high ceilings as metal clashed with metal once more. Frantically, Kamui glanced across what had been designated as her room for the past few months, lunging for the bottom of her bed, pulling away pieces of old kimono to dig out the lighter that she had hidden there months ago.

Kakashi Hatake was obviously not the sentimental type, because he had not noticed she had taken the lighter she had found within his parents belongings, and not just his mothers kimono. Which was a shame, because it was quite a beautiful lighter, intricately placed together with an expert level of skill, a snarling hound carved into the metal of the fuel chamber.

Grabbing the scraps of cloth from her various sewing projects, Kamui flicked open the lighter, striking her thumb against the ignition roller and watching the flame dance for a moment. Downstairs, they were yelling, screaming at each other over moral sense, about Minato, about Rin, about her.

In just under seven months, even a pregnant civilian can learn a lot about her jail cell. For example, while the wards prevented her from going anywhere outside except for the garden, the wards didn’t care about what she did inside of her area of captivity. She supposed that was because they were made to keep people out, not to keep someone inside. The wood the house was made out of was specially sealed as to not burn, but even seals could be damaged with age, or by someone slowly carving them out of the wood, distorting them enough with the help of a dusty book on seals that she had found in the attic so that they were no longer useful.

Here's one thing Kamui has always known, a fact that remains true whether you are a peasant, a shinobi or an empress: wood burns, and it burns well.

Gathering the alcohol soaked sewing projects up, Kamui scrambled back down the stairs, dropping the fabric onto the carpet, spinning out of the way of a shuriken that flew past her while she reached for the soju left half empty on the side table, gracelessly knocking the glass bottle to the floor, wide eyes watching the clear liquid spread across the carpet, travelling across the floorboards to drip through the cracks of the wooden slabs.

Across  the living room, where he was pushing against several strikes by Hatake, Kamui made eye contact with her husband. Obito had a small scratch below his eyepatch, several more across his bare forearms where he must have deflected Kakashi’s knife with his own skin.

“Hey, Hatake.” She shouted across the hall, flicking the ignition roller of the lighter, holding up the flame with a smirk when Hatake’s frustrated eye landed on her as he dodged Obito’s kick. “Catch.”

It didn’t take long for him to piece together what was going on, and it took her an  even shorter amount of time to throw the lighter onto the soju soaked carpet. Her plan had originally been to fake labour and then set the place ablaze if Obito had not been able to find her, but she preferred it this way. At least  all her careful planning had not gone to waste.

Obito used Kakashi’s brief moment of shock to kick him backwards, reaching to his side as she raced forwards, fingers interlocking as they both spun out of existence.

…

When she regained her senses once more, her head spinning with Obito’s power, she was laying in the grass, her head facing upwards towards the dark winter sky, the sun setting along the horizon, decorated  on all sides  by mountains and valleys.

Moon. Her home, her empire, the fruit of everything she had done.

“You okay, dearest?” Obito asked, his face appearing above her while she stared at the crescent outline of the moon slowly fading into the sky.

“I think I’m going to throw up.” She moaned lowly, head lolling to the side as her vision spun.

“You’ll be fine in a couple of minutes.” Obito chuckled, collapsing onto the grass next to her. “Just take some deep breaths.”

“We got out.” She mumbled, face pressed against the cool earth. “Obito, we got out.”

“We got out.” He confirmed. “Take that, Hatake.”

They fell into a comfortable silence staring at the sky, while her stomach settled, her child wriggling below her rib cage.

“Obito.” She spoke up, turning to face him as he hummed in acknowledgment. “Why didn’t you declare war? All that time, you had the troops and the motivation to do so. However, for all I read, you never did.”

“Because you weren’t there.” He replied, his only visible eye looking over her carefully. “I’m not the one in charge, I don’t believe I have the authority to declare war. You’re their ruler Kamui, the only person they should listen to declaring such things is you.”

The one thing they always warned her about when ruling wasn’t international or domestic issues, it was the people closest to her.

You should be careful, the court whispered to her, a man doesn’t like to exist in the background of a woman.

Marry my son instead, take my bastard as a concubine, take my nephew as a bodyguard.

Anyone that isn’t your husband, trust anyone but this foreign man we know nothing about.

Kamui had never doubted him for a moment, not for a second since he fell onto his knees in the rubble of a burnt Konoha and proclaimed that he could never hurt her. However, it was always nice to be proven right.

“Get me a Fire ambassador.” She stated, noses brushing with his as he nodded easily. “I’ve grown exhausted by Fire’s current leadership.”

“Of course, dearest.” Obito stated lowly, offering her a hand to help her off of the floor. Stepping back several paces and bowing at the waist. “May I be the first to welcome  you back to Moon, Empress.”

“Oh dearest, please tell me they’ve kept my clothes clean, I’m absolutely sick of wearing blue.”

Chapter Text

When she had been a girl, before the gold and the poison of the palace, when she ran through fields and helped her mother with the animals, there was one year that nearly every harvest in the village had failed. Excessive rain, the adults bemoaned, their heads bowed together, and worry painted clearly in their eyes. Many of the crops had drowned, unable to bear fruit despite all of their labours. The leaders had divided what there was left to salvage fairly, but so many crops had failed, and portions were slim.

Kamui remembered what it felt like to starve.

How it gnawed at your body, hands shaking and vision blurring, how you must pursue through the sensation despite how the hunger causes tears to swell in your eyes, if you divide small portions into even smaller sections, you think you have more than you do. Starvation sharpens your teeth, that’s what her mother had told her, makes your morals loose.

Once the starvation settles in your bones, there is nothing that you can do to finally be rid of it. It settles there, festers, and even if your plate piles high you will always remember how it felt to have your body eat itself from the inside out.

Kamui has never not been starving.

For food, for status, for power, for control.

Her eyes were sharp, and despite the weight of the crown on her head, she did not bow her neck as the Fire diplomat was escorted forward. Her back was perfectly straight, shoulders tense as she sat on the throne, eyes cast downward and sharpened by heavy black kohl as she stared at him from the raised dais. She raises her fingertips, dyed red once more, halting them in their approach. The red lotus painted between her brows is sharp and precise, the red on her lips the colour of blood. Each choice is purposeful, showcasing her strength, her status, her control of everything around her,

Kamui is starving, and next to her throne her husband grins, the mask absent from his face for the first time in front of the court. Her council, lined up on either side of the walkway, look at him like he would use their bones to sharpen his teeth.

He would. If she asked him.

The male diplomat they present to her did not meet her eyes, shoulders small and knees forced to the floor as the two Moon shinobi either side of him force him to bow.

She rose from the throne, never moving her eyes off of him as she accepted the hand her husband offered her, gliding down the stairs and stopping several steps away from the restrained diplomat, her husband remaining as her shadow.

“I hope your imprisonment has been… as interesting as my own.” Kamui hummed lowly, eyes narrowing slightly at the diplomat they had dragged up from the dungeons, she had not bothered to remember his name.

“Are you going to kill me?” He squeaked, trembling despite the harshness his two guards held him with.

“Oh, no.” Kamui tutted lowly, flicking her fingers distastefully at the notion. “You’re going to live, I need you to send a message after all.”

“Does he really need to, darling?” Obito hummed, a dagger spinning in his hands as he bent to rest a chin on her shoulder. “A severed head can send the same message.”

The diplomat looks as if he was going to wet himself, and the female shinobi next to him only grins like a pleased shark when he looks to her desperately.

“No, dearest.” She hummed, reaching up to stroke his cheek while her eyes never left the diplomat. “I need him to sing for me. Can you do that, little messenger bird, pass on my words exactly as I say them?”

“I- I-” He was quivering, his voice cracking at the edges and skin paler by the second.

Kamui tutted once more, turning her head to her husband with a frown.

“Obito, this one does not sing. It’s useless.”

“My deepest apologies, my darling.” Obito bowed slightly, spinning the dagger between his fingers as he looked at the female shinobi to the left of the diplomat. “Take his head, it looks like we’ll be doing this the traditional way.”

Megumi, the name of the female shinobi with a smile akin to a shark, had her sword against the mans neck before Kamui could finish blinking.

“Wait!” The messenger shrilled, fighting against her hold. “Wait! I’ll do it! I’ll do it word for word, just tell me what I need to say!”

“The caged bird sings.” She cooed, clapping her hands together, as Megumi drew away the sword with a scowl some may describe as disappointed. “Now, here’s what you are going to tell your heathen of a daimyo, my little bird.” She captured his chin between her fingers, forcing him to look her in the eye, the diamonds that hung from her crown swaying in the space between them as she inclined her head downwards to look at him. “You are going to tell him that the next time I see him, will be when his palace burns, and the bodies of his shinobi have been used as compost for our crops. Tell him that I will give his throne to my son, and his crown will go to my babe. After all, I think it will be of more use as a teething tool then it is upon his head.” She let him go, dusting her fingers on her kimono with a grimace. “Did you get all of that?”

The diplomat nodded quickly, slumping against the hold of the shinobi guards, looking as if he was going to hurt himself with the speed his head rocked back and forth.

“Please escort him out, ladies.” Obito nodded, sheathing the dagger as a smile picked up on the edge of Kamui’s lips.

“Safe light, little bird.” She called after them, waving politely as the diplomat glanced back at her, horrified.

“You would give Konoha to your unborn child ma’am?” One of her councilmen tittered out nervously wringing his hands together as she relaxed back into the throne, a hand resting on the curve of her swollen abdomen.

“Of course not.” She scoffed, dark eyes moving to look at him with a small scoff. “My babe is already an heir to an empire, there is no need to give them anything else. I said that Fire would go to my son, not my babe.”

“Your son?” Another spoke up, gulping audibly as her eyes snapped to his.

“Naruto.” She clarified, raising an eyebrow at him as if daring him to question her. “I have always sought to treat my two sons the same. Sand is Gaara’s, and Fire shall be Naruto’s.”

She had originally planned to implement him as the Hokage, but this would be better, she would have to thank Sarutobi for the opportunity when she saw him next.

…

Within an hour, there was a beautifully crafted declaration of war posted outside of the palace gates, the courtyard filled with various supply tables and office admin running back and forth to each other as teams were formed and war assignments were delivered under the watchful eye of Kisame.

Kamui watched all of it, eyes flickering to the Moon symbol carved onto the uniform of her shinobi, team members talking amongst themselves, shooting grins to each other as the strapped daggers and supply packs onto their uniform.

“What’s the strategy?” She asked Hidan, turning to the priest that was currently sharpening his scythe.

“You’ve got six ambush specific teams of ten, five tracking groups of three, a handful of infiltration specialists, a reconnaissance team and a lot of good general soldiers.” Hidan replied, spinning his scythe in his hand. “An ambush team and the recon group is already in contact to the shinobi we put in Danzo’s household, their job, with the help of Shisui is to get them in and out, killing whoever they deem a threat along the way.”

“Shisui is going with them?” She asked, raising her eyebrows in shock. “I was told my husband gave him the opportunity to not be involved.”

“Obito gave him the opportunity, not that Shisui would take it.”

“He would fight against his own clan. Blind?”

Hidan paused for a moment, glancing behind Kamui before meeting her eyes once more.

“You’re his clan as well. Besides, when we fished him out of that river, he owed us a life debt, he owes you a life debt. That is worth more than any familial tie.”

…

She barely needs to blink to shake away the effects of her husbands travelling technique, appearing again in the marble halls of Sand. Marble, gold, and foliage as far as the eye could see, open and large to keep the air cool under the unforgiving warmth of the sun no matter the season. Sand scattered the corridors under foot, wind bringing it in from the dessert that surrounded the hidden village. Kamui fumbled slightly, readjusting her weight and her grip on the dagger she was holding.

Tilting her head to the side, she caught the eye of the stunned guard to her write, their grip on the spear loosening as Obito raised an eyebrow at him, the first time her husband had appeared unmasked in public.

“Don’t you have a job to do.” Her husband drawled out, pointedly glancing at the large wooden doors a few short paces ahead of them. “Or are we really that unrecognisable?”

“He’s just stunned by your beauty, my love.” Kamui hummed, twisting the sheathed dagger in her hands, gold bracelets chiming as she moved her wrists, her lips tilting in a smile as the guard immediately straightened.

“The Kazekage has asked not to be disturbed during his audience of the elders Empress.”

“Oh?” She acknowledged, shrugging mildly. “Well, that’s a shame, be sure to tell him we came by.” She turned on her heel, readjusting the thin red cotton draped over her shoulders. “Obito?”

“Wait!” The guard shouted out quickly, stepping forward. “The Kazekage would be most upset if I sent you away. Per-perhaps it is best if I announce you.”

The guard stepped forward, cracking open the thick wooden doors with a steeled spine. Voices immediately flooding into the cavernous hallway.

“ -and quite frankly councillor, both you and your ideas are ludicrous. The only reason you are in this position is because you just can’t seem to die. Like a cockroach.”

She had taught him well.

The guard openly hesitated, before squaring his shoulders and banging his sceptre onto the stone floor, three rhythmic strikes as the room quickly fell silent.

“Introducing Her Majesty, Kamui no Chaba, Empress of Moon. Accompanied by His Royal Highness, Lord-” The guard cut himself off, nervously glancing back at the two.

“Obito.” Her husband supplied helpfully.

“Obito no Chaba.”

“We really need a new last name.” He mumbled to her as both doors swung open.

“I’ve grown quite attached to it.” She countered, keeping her head straight with a smile.

 Strolling forward without hesitation, head held high as she walked through the pathway between the councillors. She quickly noted how Gaara’s sibling stood to the right side of the raised dais that the throne sat, Sasori standing on the left. Between them, sat on a throne of marble and sandstone, not yet tall enough for his feet to reach the floor, sat Gaara.

Several paces away from the throne she stopped, bowing at the waist as low as she could go with a swollen stomach in the way, keeping her head bowed and her arms lifted high, presenting the dagger in her hand to the throne. It’s handle covered in an intricate design, depicting scenes from Sands mythology, the blade sharpened to perfection, both practical and useful.

“Kazekage and Pharoh.” She announced, gaze locked on the floor. “I bring this gift in the hopes of our continued alliance, to join for the benefits of both our people and shinobi and-”

She near fell over when a flash of red and green tacked her, the dagger dropping to the floor as she received an armful of a ten year old, the Kazekage hat laying abandoned at the foot of the dais alongside it. The only thing that prevented her falling flat onto her back was her husband gently steadying her by her shoulders as she stumbled.

Gaara choked, clearing his throat before scrambling away from her faster than she could react. Straightening his spine and squaring his shoulders, as if reminding himself that he was in charge, that he could not appear weak in front of the elders. “I will kill them for you Mother, I swear it. I promise you, I will kill them for it.”

Kamui blinked, genuinely dumbfounded for a single moment.

“Sir-” One of the councilmen spoke up, likely the stupid one as Gaara’s wide eyes turned venomous as her child turned to face them.

“Get out.” Gaara snapped, pupilless eyes scanning over the elders. “All of you.”

Kamui’s eyes never left him, not even when the council scrambled for the door, not even when the sand siblings hesitated to stay, not even when Sasori’s pleased chuckle filled the room.

Gaara opened his mouth to say something, his shoulders steeled under his gaze, but no sound had the chance to leave his mouth before Kamui dragged him back into her arms, resting her head on top of the red spikes as she wrapped herself completely around him.

“You brilliant, brilliant boy.” She said into his hair, the tension slowly draining form his band as his hands tightened against the material of her dress. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Mother.”

“I told you that you could do it.” She grinned, drawing back to hold his tear streaked face in her hands. “Look at you. Oh Gaara, you genius.”

“It’s all Sasori’s fault Mother.” Gaara griped with a pout. “Sasori told me that I could challenge the Kazekage for your release, told me about the trial by combat. If I won then I could petition for your return. He failed to mention about the crown that came along with it.”

 “Stop making it sound like you’ve been betrayed kid.” Sasori called out, grinning to himself. “You beat the bastard all on your own, I just gave you a few pointers.”

“I have to thank you for your tactics Sasori.” She smiled gently, placing a hand on Gaara’s shoulder as she spoke. “The pair of you have provided me with quite the entertainment during my captivity.” Her eyes lifted, landing on the awkward siblings that lingered close to the throne. “Temari. Kankuro. It has been along time.”

Gaara scoffed lightly, sticking close to her.

“I hope you have been pleasant to both of your siblings Gaara.” She murmured, glancing down at him quickly.

“Of course, Mother.”

That meant he had been content to ignore their existence then, it was likely only Sasori’s intervention that meant that they were stood beside the throne today, as their status dictated until Gaara had his own children. Which would not be for a long time yet. Unsurprising, due to their very separate upbringings. No matter, Gaara would warm to them eventually, even if Kamui needed to personally guide him into that direction.

“You’re here to kill our Father.” Temari said through gritted teeth, glancing between her and Obito, hands curled into fists by her sides.

No wonder Rasa had wanted her to take the crown, Temari had always been a tenacious child.

“Amongst other things.” Kamui admitted easily, meeting the teenagers eyes without hesitation. “I admit, I do not take kindly to those that facilitate my capture and petition for my death. I understand that you may now view me as the herald to you Father’s downfall, and I apologise for that. However, I will not apologise for killing Rasa.”

“You gave us gunjabi’s, and jewels, and toys- how could you do this to us?”

Kankuro was silent, always far more inclined to observe in comparison to his sister.

“Your Father did this to himself, Temari, the moment he thought that he could mould your brother into a weapon and lie to me.”

The girl fell silent, snapping her head away to hide the tears Kamui had already seen threatening to spill in her eyes. Kamui’s eyes met Sasori, who nodded in silent acquiescence, guiding the siblings out of the room with a gentle hand.

“You should offer them your sympathies.” She murmured gently to Gaara, inclining her head to look at him.

“But I don’t have any sympathies.”

“It is the kind thing to do, and the mark of a just and fair ruler.” She countered, smoothing a hand over his hair.

“We are at war with Fire Mother, I don’t think it matters what kind of ruler I am.”

Obito chuckled lowly, straightening when Kamui shot him a harrowing look.

“He has a point Kamui.”

“The sentiment remains.” She stressed, indicating to the side door that the siblings and Sasori had left through. “Go to them. Be kind, like we have taught you Gaara. Besides, I don’t think you should have Rasa darkening you dungeon for any longer. Anymore time, and we’ll be in danger of Temari breaking him out, or a rebellion amongst your advisors.”

…

She stepped into the jail cell calmly, setting down two glasses on the table in front of Rasa, both filled with perfectly clear water. There was nothing that could be used to differentiate the glasses, both identical in height, colour, shape, smell and taste. She had made sure of it.

"You married a shayatin.” Rasa spat, held in his seat by two fully masked guards, the symbol of moon carved into the porcelain where their forehead would lay, though all their features were completely covered by the mask. He was cuffed to the table, chakra suppressing seals carved into the metal courtesy of Kaina and the Uzumaki brilliance. "A demon to usher us all into chaos."

“Hello, Rasa.” She smiled sweetly, Sasori holding out a hand to help her into her seat as she sat down on the other side of the table as him. “How has captivity been treating you? We could draw up a graph and make comparisons between our treatments.”

“I told Sarutobi to kill  you, I should’ve known the old man was too soft for the task.”

“So says the man who got his crown taken by a ten year old.” She stated, tutting lowly. “I really don’t think you are in a position to throw about accusations of weakness.”

“You really should’ve seen this coming.” Sasori spoke up, leaning on the back of Kamui’s chair, grinning like a manic cat. “You’ll live on as a beautiful puppet Rasa, don’t worry.”

Rasa only glared at the former missing nin.

“I should’ve killed you when you betrayed this nation, keeping you alive was sentiment birthed only by our familial connection.”

“You should’ve.” Sasori agreed easily. “But you didn’t.”

“What is this, Kamui?” Rasa sighed heavily, leaning back in his seat, cuffed hands gesturing vaguely to the glasses in front of him.

“In simple terms, I suppose it is your death sentence.”

“So what?” He huffed, glancing between the two glasses with a scowl. “I drink the right one and I get to live another day?”

Kamui blinked in surprise at him, tilting her head while Sasori scoffed next to her.

“Rasa.” She said softly, like a pitying teacher to a child that had drawn the completely wrong conclusion. “I told you that I would kill you, did I not? There is no living for you after today. One of these will kill you quickly, and one will kill you slowly. All you have to do is pick how you want to die.”

Rasa surged in his seat but was successfully held back by the two Moon operatives, neither of them flinching as they shoved him back down further into his chair.

“Many women die in the birthing bed, Kamui.” He said through gritted teeth, eyes blazing as he stared at her. “I wouldn’t be thanking your gods just yet.”

“You’d know a lot about that wouldn’t you?” She snipped back, laying both hands onto her swollen abdomen. “Say hello to your wife for me.”

“I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you and then I’ll kill that treacherous sack of shit you should never have taken in.”

“As Sasori has already said, you should’ve done it when you had the chance.” She hissed, grinding her teeth in annoyance. “You didn’t. The only person you have to blame is yourself. Now, do us all a favour and choose the one that kills you quickly.”

Rasa leaned back in his chair, scowling deeply as his eyes flickered between the two glasses.

“You’re a coward.” He finally said. “Poison is a cowards weapon, a civilians shuriken.”

“Then you will die by the hands of a coward.” Kamui hummed, dark eyes narrowing. “If you wont pick, my shinobi will pick for you.”

He only scoffed, a hand settling on the glass to his right.

“I’ll see you in hell Kamui no Chaba.” He said, his voice dark with promise, bringing the glass to his lips.

Kamui nodded, rising out of her chair with Sasori’s help, their arms linking together as he escorted her out of the jail cell.

“Be seeing you, Rasa.”

As she turned on the heel of her shoe, she didn’t glance back as he started to choke, the table shaking on the stone floor as the scuffling began, she could hear him cursing her, hear the chimes of the metal shackles as he fought against them. Screams at her to face him, curses her very position and existence.

The first death in war never goes quietly.

Rasa is no exception.

Chapter Text

Temari stopped her on her way out.

She opened her mouth to speak, only to close it once more, appearing to chew on the side of her cheek in frustration.

“Sasori.” Kamui said softly, turning to the oldest serving member of her guard with a soft smile. “Why don’t you look in on Gaara?”

Sasori glanced between them before nodding firmly, casting a strong look to the Moon shinobi that had followed them out, one of them staying behind to confirm the time of death.

She waits for a moment, eyeing Temari carefully as the young girl continued to consider her words. Which was surprising enough for Temari, Kamui had never known the girl to fully think through anything when she was younger and Kamui was still on good terms with Rasa.

“Would you like to check?” She eventually asked bluntly, growing tired of the girls indecision.

“What?” Temari blinked.

“Would you like to check?” She asked again, gesturing to the stairs that led down to the dungeon. “I’ve heard it helps with closure.”

“That’s morbid.” Temari choked lightly, looking affronted just by the offer.

“Grief is never a logical thing.” Kamui hummed lowly, tilting her head slightly to look at the teenager in front of her. “Walk with me.”

Kamui folded her hands over her swollen abdomen, walking away from the doors of the dungeon, breathing deeply as the stench of death and mould eventually faded away. Her hands twisted into themselves, attempting to hide the way they were trembling from Temari. Kamui had no love for Rasa, just like she had no love for the daimyo or councilman she had murdered previously, but that didn’t mean that it got easier to watch the life fade from someone’s eyes.

Temari jogged to keep up with her, sliding into an uncomfortable walking pace as Kamui admired the intricate carvings and mosaics in the walls of Sands imperial palace. An abundance of blues and purple, all arranged into awe inspiring tapestries of rulers, saints, warriors. No expanse of the wall was left bare, even the edges trimmed with gold and carefully carved runes,

“I wanted to ask you why?”

“Why?” Kamui echoed, coming to a complete stop as she turned to the girl. “Why what?”

“Why you abandoned my father like that.” Temari expanded, her hands curling into fists by her side as her shoulders shook with emotion. “You were the closest of allies, the closest of friends. I don’t understand why you would turn on each other to the point of death.”

Kamui, tilted her head, surveying the young girl for a moment.

“Love.” She stated after a long pause, turning on her heel and continuing her walk. “Why else does anyone do anything?”

“Love?” Temari almost choked, keeping in pace with her. “Love? What did Obito have to do with any of this?”

“I admit, my love for my husband is an all consuming companionship to the point where the poets have dedicated books to a glance across the room.” Kamui’s lips picked up at the thought. “But he is not the only person I love. Your father loved you as much as he loved your mother, albeit in different ways. I love many things, I make a point to. I love my husband, I loved your mother, the gods rest her soul. I love Naruto, I love Gaara. I love Moon. The rift between your father flourished from what we chose to love and what we chose to hate. He had chosen to hate your brother, I had chosen to love him.”

“Then this is all because of him.”

“This is all because your father took the last gift that your mother gave him and decided that an innocent babe was better used as a weapon than a child. Our friendship was over the second he even considered such a thing.”

Kamui sighed deeply, seeing the hurt cross Temari’s face.

“It should’ve been mine.” Temari muttered lowly. “The throne should’ve been mine.”

“But it isn’t, and you know that you do not stand a chance against your brother even if you trained for a thousand years.” She stated, leaving no room for argument. “Your brother does not hate you Temari, neither do I. You are not a prisoner here, you may come and go as you wish. However, I cannot guarantee your safety in this war if you choose to leave the palace walls.”

It wasn’t really an ultimatum if Kamui already knew what Temari was going to pick.

Temari may not like her, but nothing could erase an entire lifetime worth of conditioning against fire that Rasa had already done for her. It was better the devil you knew after all.

Temari was silent, and that was enough of an answer.

“Gaara is a good boy.” She continued, turning her head to examine the girl closely as Temari slowed to a stop. “Ultimately, he craves familial connection, more than I can give him. Do not let your fathers words manipulate you, and you might find a great connection there.”

Kamui continued down the corridor, silent as she admired the mosaics, leaving Temari standing there with her own thoughts.

…

“What do wives typically tell their husbands at this point?” Kamui said lowly, dipping her foot in the pool of the palace courtyard, a soft smile on her face. “That they shall never touch them again?”

“I didn’t touch you in the first place.” Obito chuckled, raising the parasol higher to protect Kamui from the sun. “They should build shrines in honour of falling pregnant without committing the act. Kamui the Virgin Queen.”

“That would be rather an ironic twist, would it not?” Kamui laughed lightly. “From Kamui the Whore to Kamui the Virgin Queen, I’m sure peoples heads would spin from the contradiction.”

Nearing eight months pregnant, Kamui was slowly finding it increasingly difficult to do daily tasks, her feet swollen and spine aching from the extra pressure.

“They already build shrines in your honour.” Obito agreed. “I doubt you need many more. I must start inquiring when I get a shrine of my own. Perhaps this war will leave me with the mark of the greatest hero.”

“You do not need to be worshipped.” She waved off, stepping closer to him even though the heat of Sand was almost unbearable. “Your head is big enough. Plus, the last Uchiha to have a statue was Madara, and we all know what happened with that one.”

“My head is too big?” Obito blinked, a sly grin forming on his face. “Ah, but darling, don’t you think it should be just a tad bit bigger? I don’t want to be suffocated by your own ego.”

Kamui’s eyes narrowed, though a smile picked up on her lips.

“This is how you treat the mother of your child?”

“I would build many more temples in your honour, dearest.” Obito hummed, pressing a soft kiss to her hand. “But I will not, for fear that your head will grow as large as our child.”

He could’ve stopped her from pushing him into the pool, but Kamui knew that he had chosen not to.

…

She grins wildly as she takes in the private office of the Kazekage. Head tilted all the way back to stare in amazement at the intricate carvings and geometric patterns that climbed up the grand walls of the windowless office.

The chair almost seems to loom over Gaara as he sits in it nervously, twice his height and width.

No matter.

He will grow into it.

Eventually.

Her darling, clever, Gaara.

“It is a difficult job.” Gaara admits, shoulders slumped with the weight of something far older than both of them. “The people look at me as if I am a vengeful god.”

“As far as they can be concerned, you are one.” She hummed lowly, leaning back into her chair, her arm draped across her expanded abdomen. “To rule then you must have authority, you must have precedent, even if you play on belief to manufacture it. You are the younger child, precedent will not help you, so another legitimising reason for your authority must take its place.”

“Like what?”

“Godhood.” Kamui shrugged. “What else is there?”

Gaara was silent, staring at the carved desk in front of him.

“Gaara.” She said softly, rising to place a hand on his chair, lowering herself so they were at eye level. “You do not have to do this, you are incredibly young, this can wait if you wish it. I will always owe you my everything for taking this burden, but as your Mother it is not in my nature to stand back and watch you suffer.”

If possible, Gaara seemed to become even smaller. However, when he raised his head, his pupilless eyes were as sharp as Obito’s kunai.

“They need a God, Mother.” He said, as if it was the most obvious answer, the power a million sandstorms hidden in his tone. “I will give them one.”

…

They return to the palace of Moon without Gaara.

Sand declares for Moon.

Soldiers die.

Lightning and Earth declare their neutrality, too busy dealing with the aftershocks of the last great war to put any resources towards a petty squabble of land and titles between neighbours.

Soldiers die.

Water declares for Fire. Apparently, they had not been impressed that she had knowingly taken in the man that stole one of their ancient swords.

Soldiers die.

Rain declares for Moon, and the soldiers die.

Kamui is not surprised, does not flinch from where she stands at the edge of the wasteland, a black veil covering her face and brushing against her shoulders. Her chin is raised, and she shakes hands and prays for every soldier that declared for her sat in their infirmary.

A territory lost to Fire, a territory regained, a territory taken over.

It is all the same in the end.

Kamui does not revel in war, no matter what the critics say she takes no sadistic joy in it. It brings her no pleasure to see the mangled bodies of Fire and Water shinobi, the occasional hired assassin, strewn forgotten and abandoned across a wasteland of mud and the crackling remnants of chakra.

However, she had promised Sarutobi that she would have his head, and she was never one to back out of a promise.

“Kisame.” She called, hands folded in front of her. “The verdict?”

Kisame tutted from where he stood next to her, broad arms folded across his chest.

“Depends on the way you look at it.” He admitted. “Our soldiers are highly trained and specialised, based on percentages we’re losing far fewer than Fire. However, Fire has the numbers to keep going, to replace their fallen and injured at a rate we cannot. Our shinobi are good, but they cannot keep up when Fire and Water are outnumbering us 10:1.”

“Then, what do we do?” She asked, glancing across the rest of the Akatsuki. “I will not fight my entire army into exhaustion, it will get us nowhere.”

“A lightning war?” Deidara offered, stretching out his hands. “We can go in fast and quick, overwhelm them even if we don’t have numbers on our side.”

“That wont help if the war drags out.” Sasori pointed out, having been sent by Gaara to represent Sands military potential. Apparently, the council there had been coming closer and closer to a coup the more Sasori had been there. “Fire breeds their soldiers with that damned will of fire, or whatever they’re calling it. Even if we took over, it would only be so long before we had a rebellion on our hands.”

“An external power would never be welcomed.” Kamui agreed, staring at the wasteland. “Fire’s cultural history is ancient and strong, it would fight until nothing was left, and even then it would still bite.”

“A coup?” Shisui offered, blind eyes staring directly at her. “The Uchiha still clamber for a violent seizure of power, it would not take much to tip them over the edge.”

“Itachi is too young.” Obito disagreed. “Give him five years to mature and gain his position on the council and he will be perfect, but the elders hold too much of the power for any government we set up in his name to hold any real sway.”

“I don’t know whether you’ve looked around or not.” Hidan commented, gesturing wildly to the wasteland around them. “But we don’t exactly have five fucking years.”

“Language, Hidan.” Kamui admonished, hands resting on her hips as she frowned deeply. “We don’t have the years on our side, and I refuse to sacrifice lives pointlessly.” She paused a moment, turning to stare at her husband. “Call them back.”

“You want us to retreat?” Sasori practically spat out.

“I want it to look like we’re retreating.” Kamui corrected. “How far out are the troops from the marshlands?”

“Several miles.” Kisame nodded, catching onto Kamui’s idea. “We lead the Fire troops to the marshlands, it’s a terrain they’re not used to, they’re untrained and they’ll flounder. From there, we turn around and pick them off one by one.”

“It’ll buy us some time.” Deidara agreed. “The bomb squad can wait in the trees and target them from above. Fire are arrogant, some of them may sense a trap, but enough will fall into it to make an impact.”

“This is fine for the short term.” Obito warned her. “But we’ll have to think of something for the long term.”

“We will.” She assured him. “We will.”

…

Kamui rarely slept alone.

Not since Naruto had entered their lives, when he was tiny and needed constant attention, and Kamui could not bare to give him to a night nurse. So, her and Obito had slept in the same bed on shifts so they could intervene with him if necessary, it was easier to hold the other accountable with a quick shove rather than trek across the hallway with a sobbing toddler to the designated guard.

Obito had, quite simply, never left her bed.

Even when Naruto could sleep through the night, even when he grew old enough to not need them at all, Obito had never returned to his own room in the other wing of the palace.

Kamui had never asked him to leave.

Now, however, the heavy child had made it difficult for Kamui to sleep. Seemingly able to be simultaneously too warm and yet too cold at once. With that, she had taken to wondering the corridors silently, knowing from years of practice where to step without waking another living thing.

The war meant that her husband could also be called away at odd hours, leading her to crack her eyes open late at night to his side of the bed being empty, yet to open them again at sunrise to see him returned to her.

Turning the corner, Kamui stopped suddenly, narrowing her eyes at seeing several Moon operatives crouched outside her door.

Clicking her left had in the low sequence that her husband had taught her, one operative rose from their crouched position, disappearing mid-step to appear once more on her left.

“Majesty.” Ai bowed lowly, the ex-ROOT operative silently signalling to the others. “We’ve set up noise cancelling seals, so feel free to talk openly.”

“Talk openly?” She blinked. “Why would we have to worry about talking openly Ai?”

“We have reason to believe that a lone enemy operative has infiltrated the palace ma’am.” Ai grimaced, bowing deeply once more. “Please accept out deepest apologies, we were aware of the operative within seconds ma’am. Though, we have been unable to gauge how they have gotten past the barriers in the first place.”

“Then how are you aware of them?”

“Their chakra signature is not listed on our database ma’am”

“Do you know who it is?”

“No ma’am, they had enough foresight to mask their signature. Not well enough for us not to notice them, though enough that we cannot pinpoint on our database of high profile shinobi who they are. The tracking team is hunting them down as we speak, we believe they are somewhere in the staff quarters”

Kamui paused for a moment, glancing from the door to Ai.

“They are inside the palace?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“But you don’t know where they are exactly?”

Another deep grimace.

“Affirmative ma’am.”

“Get my husband.” Kamui hissed, stepping past the other woman. “Find them.”

“Of course, ma’am. We have done a full sweep of your rooms ma’am and found nothing, but we have posted a shinobi at every entrance for your safety.” Ai nodded, tapping twice at the Moon headband wrapped around her upper arm as she folded her arms in front of her.

Kamui nodded, bowing in return to the posted operatives as she slid the door shut behind her. Sighing heavily, she ran a hand over her face, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Damn Fire.” She mumbled underneath her breath. “Damn war.”

She stopped suddenly, her eyes narrowed as she scanned the shadows, stepping carefully as she reached her vanity. Hands gliding over the numerous hand pins as she took a seat, meeting her own eyes in the mirror.

She plunged the needle sharp pin into the outreached hand as soon as it got close enough.

“Ai!” She screamed, spinning back to the door as five guards, including Ai, ran into the room, two of them grabbing hold of the assailants arms, a third placing their arms around their neck, the sickening crack of broken fingers filling the room, causing Kamui to flinch.

“Do you think we’re stupid?” Ai spat at the ANBU mask, having signalled to Kamui that the assailant was in the room, and it was her decision whether to proceed or not, by tapping twice on her headband in the corridor. “Do you think we can’t see through a basic illusion? We were trained under Obito no Chaba you daft idiot! I’ve seen our academy students produce better illusions then that.”

It seemed to be a common mistake that since she was a civilian, Obito had neglected in teaching his wife basic self defence. Ever since the incident with Orochimaru, Obito had sharpened Kamui’s reaction times over the years to the best that he could. Ensuring that she always had at least one sharpened item on her at any time. The hairpins had been his favourite, gifting her ever ore beautiful and evermore deadly ones as years passed.

“Wait.” Kamui said, calmly interrupting Ai’s hissing rant. “Unmask him.”

The shinobi holding onto the assailants neck nodded, lifting the dog mask from his head.

Ai cut herself off, staring in disbelief as Kamui groaned and allowed her head to fall into her hands.

“What,” she hissed, tired, heavily pregnant and now more annoyed than ever, “the fuck, are you doing here?”

“Kamui.” Kakashi Hatake grinned brightly. “It’s been so long, fancy seeing you here.”