Chapter 208: Kushina: A 300-year-old Daughter-in-law?!
The night gently enveloped the courtyard of Menma’s house.
Warm yellow lights streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows into the living room carpeted with dark velvet, carrying a subtle atmosphere of mingled new and old that was hard to describe.
In one corner of the living room, Kushina Uzumaki sat upright on the soft genuine leather sofa.
She had changed out of that deep gray cape and was wearing the dark green long skirt she often wore in life, barely covering the pallor of her reanimated body, but the spiderweb-like black cracks on her face and arms were still clearly visible.
She sat with perfect posture, exuding a natural aura belonging to a mother of her generation, her eyes with their gray halo gazing with interest and kindness at the girl on the opposite sofa.
At this moment, Uchiha Hikari was slightly lowering her head, her hands fidgeting as they overlapped on her knees, her fingertips unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes, appearing restless.
The cool scrutinizing demeanor from earlier on the veranda, even with a hint of displeasure, had completely vanished; she shrank into the sofa like a kitten that had wandered into unfamiliar territory, flustered under the host’s gaze.
Facing Kushina’s unabashed, curious, and kind scrutinizing gaze, she only felt her cheeks slightly warm, even her earlobes turning red.
Menma walked out of the kitchen carrying a fruit platter with water-fresh apples, oranges, and a few clusters of glistening grapes.
He gently placed the fruit platter on the glass coffee table in front of the sofa, making a crisp sound.
Then, he walked extremely naturally to the long sofa where Uchiha Hikari was sitting and sat down next to her.
The sofa sank slightly, their arms almost touching.
Uchiha Hikari’s body tensed instantly for a moment, feeling the familiar body heat and aura from beside her; that sense of unease oddly receded a bit, but her heartbeat seemed even faster.
She quietly lifted her eyes to glance at Menma’s calm profile beside her, then quickly lowered her gaze.
“Eat some fruit.” Menma picked up an apple and deftly peeled it with a small knife, his movements smooth and natural, as if oblivious to the subtle tension in the air.
Kushina’s gaze swept back and forth several times over the boy and girl sitting side by side opposite her, a look of extreme satisfaction, even relief, gradually appearing on her pallid face.
That smile tugged at the cracks on her face, yet it was still as warm as melting spring snow.
“Hikari, is it okay to call you that?” Kushina’s voice carried the kindliness and curiosity unique to elders: “Which branch of Konoha’s Uchiha are you from? I grew up with your clan head’s wife Mikoto as good sisters!”
She enthusiastically mentioned her old acquaintance, seemingly wanting to close the distance.
After all, her consciousness was still at the moment before her death, just having become a mother, and now her child was dating.
So Kushina was a bit nervous too, pondering how to handle her relationship with her daughter-in-law, since neither she nor Minato had experience in this, both being orphans.
“I…” Uchiha Hikari was just about to answer when Menma beside her calmly interrupted.
“Mom, Hikari isn’t from Konoha’s Uchiha.” Menma handed a peeled small piece of apple to Hikari, who instinctively took it, her fingertips brushing his, causing another tremble.
“Ah?” The smile on Kushina’s face froze, her head tilting slightly to one side, showing an extremely bewildered expression, as if unable to comprehend the meaning of those words, “Not from Konoha? Then…”
Menma handed the peeled apple entirely to Kushina.
Though reanimation jutsu couldn’t taste flavors, Kushina still retained her habit from life and took the apple from her son.
Menma picked up an orange and peeled it leisurely, introducing in a flat tone: “Strictly speaking, her age is probably over three hundred years old.”
Crack.
The piece of apple Kushina had just taken seemed about to drop; she quickly gripped it tighter.
But her expression had completely turned into a big question mark, her eyes with their gray halo wide round, her whole body like it had been paused, completely frozen.
“Th-three hundred years old?!” Kushina’s voice rose eight degrees, full of disbelief, her gaze refocusing on the cool girl opposite who looked at most fifteen, as if looking at some prehistoric monster.
“Mm.” Menma peeled off a segment of orange and naturally offered it to Hikari’s still-dazed mouth.
Hikari instinctively opened her mouth to take it, the sweet-sour juice spreading in her mouth, finally bringing her slightly back from the “three hundred years old” shock, though her cheeks flushed even more.
Menma continued explaining, his voice clearly flowing in the warm living room: “She’s a figure from the Warring States Period. Because her strength was too great, she was jointly sealed deep in a ruin in Uzu Village by the Senju Clan of that time, the Sarutobi Clan, and our Uzumaki Clan. The seal lasted over three hundred years. Later, when I went to Uzu Village searching for the Uzumaki Clan’s heritage, I accidentally broke her seal.”
He glanced at Hikari beside him: “So, she has little relation to Konoha’s current Uchiha.”
Kushina listened quietly, the shock on her face slowly fading, replaced by a deep light mixed with understanding and pity.
She looked at Uchiha Hikari’s delicate face, at the alienation and loneliness in her eyes that occasionally flashed, not belonging to this era.
Suddenly, she felt that she and Menma were alike…
“So… that’s how it is…” Kushina murmured, her voice thick with a sigh.
She abruptly stood up, and under Uchiha Hikari’s somewhat stunned gaze, circled around the coffee table in a few steps, opened her arms, and without a word pulled this “three-hundred-year-old” girl forcefully into her embrace!
The cold embrace carrying the scent of dust was not warm, yet exceptionally forceful and firm.
“Poor child…” Kushina’s voice sounded by Hikari’s ear, carrying maternal gentleness and heartache.
“Alone… locked in a place like that for so long… must have been so lonely, right?” She gently patted Hikari’s back, her movements careful yet full of sincerity.
“Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. From now on, this is your home! If this kid Menma dares to bully you, just tell me! I’ll teach him a lesson for you!”
“Pfft!” Menma, who was drinking water, nearly choked, looking at his mom with a speechless expression.
He recalled Kushina in the Limited Tsukuyomi World, with her fiery temper; if provoked, she’d give a thorough thrashing, and even his dad Minato couldn’t save him.
Uchiha Hikari, tightly held, was stiff as a wooden sculpture.
Kushina, reanimated by reanimation jutsu, was cold in her embrace, but the unconditional acceptance and warmth conveyed in her words was like a scorching hot current, instantly filling Hikari’s heart.
Three hundred years of sealed life, the bewilderment of waking alone in darkness, the estrangement of integrating into a new era…
Countless complex emotions surged up, making her nose tingle.
Her stiff arms slowly, tentatively, gently returned the hug around Kushina’s waist, burying her face in that dust-scented yet utterly reassuring embrace, muffledly humming “mm.”
This was the second purest, purpose-free care she had felt in hundreds of years, besides Menma.
The atmosphere in the living room instantly became incredibly warm.
Menma watched this scene, a trace of softness passing through his deep blue eyes.
“Okay, okay,” Kushina released Hikari, her pallid face full of smiles as she took her hand.
“Don’t just sit there! Come with me to the kitchen! Let Menma watch television by himself! Us two ladies chat!” Without giving her a chance to respond, she pulled the still-dazed Hikari up and headed to the kitchen, leaving Menma, who had just picked up the remote, alone in the living room.
Soon, the sound of running water, clinking pots and pans, and Kushina’s excited chatter filled the kitchen.
“Hikari, this fridge is so big! Can hold so much stuff, right!”
“Mm… It’s a new product bought recently.”
“Wow! This stove! No need to light a fire??”
“Electric stove… Very common now.”
“Hikari, what do you and Menma usually like to eat?”
“We… are fine.”
“Let me tell you, back in Konoha, Mikoto and I…”
In the living room, Menma turned on the large wall-embedded television screen.
Clear images and sounds emerged, broadcasting a report from the Land of Stars official news channel on the grand entrance ceremony for the latest batch of students from Hoshigakure, with shots flashing Natsuhi and Hotaru, and Nonō Yakushi speaking as vice principal.
He leaned back in the sofa, eyes on the screen, but his thoughts seemed to drift to the kitchen’s murmur of conversation.
The kitchen door opened and closed, enticing aromas wafting out continuously.
Kushina seemed to pour out a decade-plus of maternal love all at once, directing the still-inexperienced Hikari to help, and together they surprisingly made a full table of sumptuous dinner.
During dinner, the atmosphere was even more peculiar.
Uchiha Hikari and Menma sat on one side, faint red blushes still on their faces, occasionally picking food for each other.
Their movements were skilled and natural, exuding a strange rapport and habit.
Kushina sat opposite them, watching the cool, beautiful girl beside her son who carefully tended to him.
An extremely complex yet utterly blissful smile appeared on Kushina’s pallid face, her eyes full of the doting light of “my son found a great match.”
The meal ended amid Kushina’s chatter and Hikari’s occasional soft responses.
After dinner, Uchiha Hikari took the initiative to stand, quickly clearing the bowl and chopsticks and carrying them to the kitchen to wash.
Kushina wanted to help and had just stood up when her gaze fell on Hikari’s busy back in the kitchen; it was as if she saw her good friend Mikoto, who had also been an Uchiha jonin and retired after marriage to devote herself fully to family.
Kushina glanced again at Menma on the sofa, her thoughts and worries about Naruto surging up once more.
She walked to the sofa and sat beside Menma.
The television was still playing a promotional video of the prosperous night scenery of the Star Capital, forming a stark contrast to Kushina’s current heavy mood.
“Menma…” Kushina’s voice lowered, gently taking Menma’s hand on the sofa; though unable to transmit warmth, her concern was utterly clear.
“Naruto… Naruto, is he… doing well in Konoha? Did the Third Hokage… take good care of him?” Her gaze locked tightly on Menma’s eyes, full of hope yet laced with deep worry.
Menma was silent for a few seconds, the television screen’s light flickering in his deep blue eyes.
He gently patted the back of Kushina’s cold hand in return, his voice low and calm as he slowly said: “The Third… settled him. Arranged housing, basic food, clothing, and necessities are provided. But…”
He paused, seeing Kushina’s instantly tense expression, “In the village… rumors of the ‘Nine-Tails Fox Demon reincarnation’ have always circulated. The villagers… transferred their fear and hatred of the Nine-Tails onto Naruto. No one wants to approach him; kids throw stones at him, adults look at him with disgust…”
Kushina’s body trembled violently, her pallid hands clenching tightly, knuckles whitening further from the force, as if to crush something.
Those black cracks seemed to deepen.
She couldn’t shed tears, but that heart-wrenching pain was clearly etched on her face.
“The nannies the Third hired wouldn’t stay long-term, changing one after another, and finally…” Menma sighed: “So Naruto has lived alone since childhood. In an empty house, eating expired milk and instant noodles, learning to take care of himself…”
“No… don’t say anymore…” Kushina abruptly lowered her head, her reanimated body’s shoulders heaving violently, emitting suppressed sobs.
She seemed to see her son with brilliant golden hair, like a little sun, in a cold room, hugging his knees, lonely gazing at the lights of thousands of homes outside the window…
That loneliness and pain was suffocating just to think about.
She couldn’t understand; Menma’s tragic experiences could be blamed on that mysterious masked man, explained by his unknown whereabouts; but why hadn’t Naruto received better care?
The living room held only the television’s cheerful background music and Kushina’s suppressed sobs.
Menma sat quietly.
After a long while, Kushina’s emotions slightly calmed.
She raised her head, cracks crisscrossing her face, her gray eyes full of bone-deep sorrow and profound helplessness.
Menma looked at her, gently sighing, his voice softening: “Mom, don’t be too sad. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to Konoha to see. See Naruto with your own eyes, and see… what Konoha became after you and Father sacrificed yourselves.”
Kushina nodded forcefully, a glimmer of hope appearing on her pallid face.
To see Naruto with her own eyes, even from afar, would be immense consolation for her.
The night deepened.
The next morning, winter sunlight streamed gently through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, filling the living room.
Menma came down the spiral staircase, wearing simple dark home clothes.
He walked lightly toward the large floor-to-ceiling window leading to the courtyard.
Through the clean glass, a serene and warm scene met his eyes.
The courtyard was covered in a thin layer of fresh snow from last night, glistening in the morning light.
Under the rustic veranda, Kushina and Uchiha Hikari sat side by side.
Kushina still wore that dark green long skirt, wrapped in a thick cape.
Uchiha Hikari wore an elegant home kimono, with a beige knitted cardigan over it.
Between them sat a small red clay stove, the coals burning brightly inside, emitting faint crackling sounds.
An antique copper pot rested on the stove, white steam rising gracefully from its spout, the tea aroma mingling with the charcoal scent, drifting leisurely in the crisp air.
Kushina was tilting her head, animatedly talking to Hikari, her face with a warm smile, gesturing with her hands.
Uchiha Hikari leaned in slightly listening, her cool profile softened in the morning light, even a faint smile at the corners of her mouth.
She occasionally nodded gently or responded softly.
This obedient demeanor before an elder contrasted sharply with her usual arrogant Uchiha bearing.
Fine snowflakes drifted leisurely from the clear blue sky, silently falling on the courtyard snow, on the veranda tiles, and on their hair and shoulders.
The stove’s red glow illuminated two faces from different eras, wonderfully harmonious in this moment.
Tea fragrance wafted, time seemingly gently frozen in this corner.
Menma stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, leaning against the pillar by it, corners of his mouth slightly upturned, quietly appreciating this warm scene.
Morning sunlight fell on him, his deep blue eyes reflecting the snow light, stove fire, and the two softly chatting figures, clear and serene.
