Naruto: End of the Shinobi World

Kaguya did not immediately answer Black Zetsu. All her attention seemed focused on her abdomen.

There, a new and fragile life—yet one bound to her by blood—was quietly taking shape.

The power she had felt ”disappearing” was not being stripped away or lost. Rather, it was flowing in a way she had never experienced before—naturally and without reservation—into this unborn life, becoming its nourishment and foundation.

Gradually, an extremely faint yet unmistakably genuine smile appeared on Kaguya’s usually icy face, like the first melt of snow at the beginning of spring.

Within that smile were surprise, confusion, and a trace of unease toward the unknown—but above all, there was the pure joy and tenderness born from instinct, the awakening of a mother.

She stroked her abdomen again and again, as if she could feel the pulse of the tiny life through her skin. In her eyes was a softness never seen since her descent into this world.

The sight stirred something in countless viewers across the shinobi world.

No matter where Kaguya came from or what power she possessed, at this moment she was simply a woman about to become a mother—joyful, uncertain, and utterly human.

Yet Black Zetsu’s excitement quickly gave way to worry.

It wriggled closer, its voice tinged with concern.

”Is it because of the baby that your power is… ’disappearing,’ Mother? If it keeps flowing like this… will you become very weak? Will you be in danger?”

Kaguya’s smile did not fade. She shook her head, her tone returning to its usual cool composure.

”It is not ’disappearing.’ I am passing my power on to my child. This is my child. It is only natural that they inherit my strength.”

She paused, as though reassuring herself as much as Black Zetsu.

”It will be fine. Tenji will protect me. Once the child is born… my power will gradually return.”

She placed her trust in the mortal man who had given her warmth and introduced her to emotions she had never known.

Black Zetsu said nothing further, but the dark mass grew quieter—and more resolute.

From that day on, it remained almost constantly at her side.

Kaguya noticed the change. There was a trace of helplessness in her expression, but also a hint of warmth.

”Black Zetsu, what are you doing?” she asked softly one day. ”You possess no real power. If danger truly comes… what use is guarding me like this?”

Black Zetsu was silent for so long that she thought it would not answer.

At last, in a voice more serious and stubborn than she had ever heard before, it spoke.

”I… will become stronger.”

It shifted to face her.

”Mother, teach me how to cultivate. Teach me to grow strong. Teach me how to use power. That way… I can truly protect you—and my younger brother.”

For the first time, it had clearly asked to learn—to grow stronger—not for itself, but to protect.

Kaguya looked down at the dark, stubborn creation at her feet, her gaze complicated.

She slowly shook her head.

”You are a being born of Yin Release,” she said calmly, examining it. ”Your form of life—your very essence—is different from mine and from the living beings of this world.”

Seeing Black Zetsu’s apparent dejection, her tone softened slightly.

”First… understand yourself. Understand your own existence. When you do… perhaps you will naturally know how to ’cultivate.’”

Black Zetsu fell silent again. This time, however, it did not press further. It simply curled back at her feet, thoughtful.

—

Yet this seemingly peaceful harmony only deepened the unease of those watching from beyond the Heavenly Curtain.

The inheritance of power.

Unprotected vulnerability.

Placing her safety in the hands of a mortal husband.

All the elements suggested that beneath this warmth, a great storm was quietly gathering.

And when that storm arrived, how would a weakened Kaguya—and the fragile, unformed powers around her—possibly withstand it?

Time within the Heavenly Curtain continued to pass in an atmosphere that appeared calm on the surface yet churned with undercurrents.

Tenji remained gentle and attentive, caring for her with meticulous devotion.

Yet Kaguya, perceptive as ever, noticed the growing worry etched between his brows.

One day, seeing him once again sigh at the window with a furrowed expression, she asked softly, ”Tenji, what is it? Is something troubling you?”

He turned quickly, replacing his expression with a warm smile as he walked to her side and gently took her hand.

”It’s nothing major. The Land of That has had some border friction with the Land of Ancestors lately—minor clashes.”

”But don’t worry. I’ll handle it. Your only task now is to rest well and safely give birth to our child.”

His tone was light, deliberately downplaying the matter.

Kaguya studied his forced smile, a faint suspicion passing through her mind, yet she did not pursue it.

She had little interest in the conflicts between human nations. Moreover, her pregnancy left her with less energy—and more importantly, she trusted Tenji.

She nodded gently.

”I believe in you. But you must also be careful.”

Tenji agreed with a smile, though the heaviness in his eyes did not disappear.

—

As the days passed, Kaguya’s abdomen grew larger, and her movements became more cumbersome.

She could clearly sense that almost all her power had flowed into the child within her.

This profound sense of ”weakness” was something she had never experienced in her long existence. It was novel—but it also stirred a faint unease.

Then, on a bright afternoon—

Supported by her attendants, Kaguya took a walk in the small garden behind the palace, enjoying a rare moment of tranquility.

That tranquility was soon shattered by a voice—deliberately hushed, yet sharp with barely restrained fury.

”…It’s all because of that woman! What ’Divine Maiden’? She’s a harbinger of disaster! If it weren’t for her—if the daimyō hadn’t insisted on marrying her and angering the Land of That—my son… my son wouldn’t have died at the border! Slaughtered by those scum from the Land of That! My son! My poor son…!”

The curses dissolved into grief-stricken sobs, heavy with bitter hatred.

The voice abruptly cut off—apparently muffled and dragged away in haste. The garden fell silent once more, save for the rustling of leaves in the wind.

But Kaguya had heard.

She stood still.

The softness vanished from her face, replaced by cold stillness.

A sharp glint flickered within her pale Byakugan.

With a small gesture, she dismissed the attendants supporting her and remained standing there alone in silence for a long time.

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