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Chapter 68 Mother of Destiny
🕑 Added 2025-06-17 10:54:52 +0000 UTCThe scent of sizzling meat and spiced glaze clung thick in the air, making Koji nearly vibrate beside me with excitement. We stopped at a bustling food stall, its grill piled high with skewered delights—chicken glazed in soy and honey, sizzling beef strips, charred mushrooms, even bits of river eel smoking over hot coals.
Koji leaned forward so fast I had to tug him back by his hand. “Easy,” I murmured. “We’re pretending to be normal, remember? Normal people don’t sniff the food vendor.”
“They should,” he muttered, eyes locked on the skewers like a wolf stalking a lamb. “This smells like the gods themselves dropped dinner.”
We ordered three—two for us, and a plain one for Kuro. I handed over coins, then turned to Koji, who was already halfway vibrating again, and dangled the juiciest skewer in front of him.
“Here,” I said, giving him a slow smile. “For my favorite boy.”
He blinked, startled. Then he grinned like an idiot, already leaning in, lips parting to bite—when I smoothly pivoted and fed the entire first bite to Kuro.
“Who’s a good partner?” I cooed as Kuro chomped the offering with a happy woof, tail wagging. “That’s right. You are.”
Koji’s mouth clicked shut. He blinked once. Twice.
“I—” he sputtered. “Yuki, you traitor!”
I took a dainty bite from my own skewer, eyes innocent. “What? I said it was for my favorite partner.”
“You’re not even denying it?” Koji’s voice cracked upward, indignant. “You! You aren’t playing fair at all!”
Kuro gave a smug snort, then licked his lips and sat tall, obviously expecting another bite.
“See? He’s polite. Grateful. Doesn’t flirt with me in the middle of enemy territory.” I gave Koji a sideways look. “You, on the other hand, are barely housebroken.”
“I have never peed on anything without a good reason,” Koji huffed, crossing his arms.
“Please, I’m worried you might use my leg for a lamppost anytime I stand still.” I teased him, biting into another skewer piece. “You are practically feral.”
Koji just huffed and flashed me his teeth in a smile. “And I remember someone screaming my name due to them liking how feral I was.”
“You are hopeless!” I lightly hit his shoulder as I turned away, hiding the slight blush on my face. That damn brat, and what was wrong with me? What caused me to like those fang-like teeth so much?
To avoid more teasing, I gripped his free hand once more and started dragging him away from the vendor who was laughing at us, muttering something about young love.
So with Skewers in one hand and Koji in the other, we walked along with Kuro padding by his side, trying to get fed by his master, who was too busy being happy with himself to properly feed his ninken.
All around were colorful stalls lining the wet streets, because in the Land of Rivers, everything had this wet feeling to it. Not that it took away from the lively atmosphere, because, while there might be a war happening, it was fought far from places like this, and not by young men from these places.
In a way, the whole shinobi warfare was remarkably kind on the civilian population, at least until a battle got too close, and reduced a town to cinders in minutes.
One vendor in particular caught my eye—an older man with a face like sun-dried bark and hands that never stopped moving. His stall overflowed with carved trinkets: bracelets strung with little river stones, rings shaped like dragon claws, and polished bone necklaces meant to look “feral and mysterious.”
“Young lady,” the merchant said, spotting me with a glint in his eye. “You’re far too lovely to go around bare-wristed. Let the boy buy you something to keep the other lads away, hmm?”
Koji snorted, already moving to the table. “Hear that, Yuki? Even the locals agree. Should probably mark you now before someone tries to snatch you away.”
I rolled my eyes, though my fingers did brush along a strand of silver bells. “He wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, I’d dare,” Koji said, picking up a red leather bracelet fitted with a fang-shaped charm. “This one’s nice. Looks like it could double as a collar.”
“I’ll kill you,” I said flatly, snatching the bracelet from his hand.
The old vendor chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Or how about a choker? Nice and snug—sends a message, that does.”
Koji leaned in close, voice low and hot against my ear. “I was thinking bite marks would work better. More personal.”
I nearly choked on the last bit of skewer I was chewing.
“You—!” I turned to glare at him, but he was already walking past me, smug grin on his face, hands folded behind his head like he was on vacation.
Kuro gave a huffing sound that could only be laughter, then nudged my thigh as if to say, You started it.
“I hate you both,” I muttered under my breath.
“You love us,” Koji called back. “One of us a little more than the other, but I won’t name names.”
The vendor gave me a wink. “He’s got spirit, that one. Dangerous kind of boy.”
“Tell me about it,” I said, and somehow, I was still smiling.
We kept walking, our steps slow and aimless now, bellies fuller and moods lighter. The street widened into a broader avenue, where awnings stretched from stone buildings and paper lanterns swayed overhead.
I let the sounds of chatter and clinking metal wash over me—vendors haggling, kids laughing, the rhythmic clop of cart wheels over wet stone. This place felt far from war, far from bloodshed.
Around one particular corner, a small crowd had gathered in front of a raised platform of stacked crates and weathered cloth.
There, a traveling performer worked a pair of wooden puppets through a battle scene—one a crimson warrior with exaggerated muscles, the other a spindly swordsman in green.
The puppets danced with practiced precision. Strings flashed in the sun. The crowd of children and parents gasped as the crimson puppet slammed its tiny blade down and sent the other sprawling.
Koji slowed beside me, chewing the last bite of his skewer. “Huh. That’s… impressive.”
“Maybe a bit too much so,” I murmured as we stood there watching from a distance.
In this world, puppetry had an undeniable connection with the Land of Wind. There, it had been an art practiced by old tribes who called the ruthless desert home, and later, with the rise of the ninja villages, it had become a potent tool of war for the shinobi of Sunagakure.
So, while some civilians had learned of the art and used it as their own trade, it was often suspected that those were spies.
I activated the Byakugan to check the amount of chakra, something I had already done before entering the town, but it was better safe than sorry. And here, I was sorry.
Sorry for the poor man performing. For I saw no threads of chakra, just physical stringwork. His chakra was pitiful, clearly a civilian, barely even a spark of chakra in his entire body.
“Anything suspicious?” Koji asked, his body tense, his hand gripping mine more tightly than he had to.
“Nothing I can see. He is a civilian, though he could still be a spy, but I doubt we can find out without making a move.” I said, turning the Byakugan back off.
There was nothing wrong with being on guard, but even if he was a spy, I doubted he was anyone important; he likely didn’t even have much connection with Suna, likely just lived here, and maybe made some notes about things and handed them in once in a while.
All around, I judged him to be of no importance, and certainly no threat to us.
“Guess he’s harmless,” Koji said, relaxing again as Kuro flopped down in front of the crowd to watch, tail swishing in lazy amusement. “Kinda sweet, actually.”
“For civilians, maybe,” I murmured.
We stood there for another minute, listening to the kids laugh at a slapstick routine where one puppet kept falling off a box meant to be a cliff.
Then, without warning, Koji leaned toward me, his voice pitched just above a whisper.
“So… what do you think Haruto and Arata are doing right now?”
I glanced sideways. “Eating. Properly. Like responsible adults.”
He gasped. “Boring.”
I shrugged. “That’s what I said.”
Koji tapped his chin with exaggerated thoughtfulness. “You know what I think?”
“Gods, do I want to know?”
He leaned in with a devilish grin. “I think they went to the brothel.”
I choked on my own spit. “What?”
“You heard me.” He looked far too smug about this theory. “Come on. You and me, flirting around them all the time? They gotta be all wound up, they need to relax, cut loose, and Arata? Stoic on the outside, but I bet he’s a closet pervert.”
“You are not serious.”
“Oh, I’m dead serious.” Koji’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “And you know what would settle it?”
“No.”
“Use your Byakugan.”
“Koji.”
“Just a peek!”
“No.”
“I’d do it for you!”
“That’s even worse!”
Koji pressed both palms together, mock-serious. “Don’t tell me you aren’t curious.”
I stared at him. “You are a menace.”
“You love it,” he said, smug.
“Say Kuro, should we just ditch this fool and continue on our own?” I asked the black Ninken beside us, who seemed to bark in agreement.
“Damn Kuro, you traitor!”
I rolled my eyes and kept walking. “Come on. Let’s find something else to distract you before you cause more problems.”
“Too late,” he called cheerfully, squeezing my hand tightly.
This wasn’t some grand tourist center. Most of the attractions were for locals, not visitors, so while the place was lively, it wasn’t packed with things to do.
So eventually, we made our way over to a shrine.
Faith was something I always found rather interesting about the Naruto universe. Because people always talked about gods, gods this, gods that, even I liked to use the expression.
However, as someone who had once been worshipped as the rabbit goddess, I knew very well that there were no gods. I had never seen them act in my many, many long years of watching this world from the moon.
Which leaves the question, why do people believe in them? And where do the legends about gods come from?
In a world where real god-like beings like myself and my two sons once walked the earth, why were we forgotten, turned into mere legends, while the names of hundreds of other gods were known?
Some of that I could blame on my son—he’d worked hard to erase my legacy. But where did Buddha come from?
“Come, let's grab a fortune,” Koji said, pulling me along and breaking me out of my thoughts.
The shrine was modest—an open-sided wooden structure framed by faded banners and tiny bells that chimed softly in the breeze. A donation box sat beneath a painted sign that read Fortunes of the River Spirit—One Coin for Truth.
Koji dropped his coin in with a dramatic flourish. “Prepare yourself. This is the moment everything changes.”
“You're being ridiculous,” I said, but I followed his lead, placing my own coin in beside his.
We each tugged a slip from the small wooden drawers stacked under the offering shelf.
I opened mine slowly, expecting the usual vague words about health or balance. But the characters were surprisingly precise:
Blessings upon the womb. Safe childbirth and strong lineage. You are favored to bear greatness.
I stared at it for a moment, lips parting slightly. Of course. Of course the universe gave me the fertility fortune. Of course it would.
“Oh?” Koji peered over my shoulder before I could hide it. His grin bloomed like the sun. “Yuki. Yuki. Are you pregnant?”
“No, you utter idiot!” I snapped, stuffing the fortune into my sleeve.
“I mean, I wouldn’t complain,” he said, beaming. “Good hips, strong chakra, excellent genes…”
“Koji,” I warned.
“I’m just saying! You and me? We’d make some terrifyingly good-looking kids.”
“Koji!”
He cackled as he opened his own fortune. “Alright, let’s see mine—drumroll please.”
He unfolded the paper. His grin faltered.
I raised a brow. “Well?”
“…‘Great success awaits you in matters of legacy and bold pursuit. Your mark shall last.’” He read it slowly, then blinked again.
We stood there in silence.
Then he looked at me. Slowly.
I looked at him. Flatly.
His eyes widened just slightly. “…wait.”
I closed my eyes. “No.”
“Oh my gods,” he said, voice rising. “Yuki. Yuki. We got matching baby fortunes.”
“We did not—”
He was grinning too wide now, eyes gleaming. “Great success in legacy? That’s practically shrine-code for impregnation victory.”
“It could mean anything—”
“It means I’m very potent,” he declared, now walking backwards in front of me like a triumphant idiot. “Confirmed by the gods. That’s what the slip says. Bold pursuit! My mark will last.”
“I will end you.”
“You’re blessed, Yuki. I’m blessed. This is destiny!”
Kuro barked once. It sounded suspiciously like laughter.
“I hate you both,” I muttered, shoving my slip deeper into my sleeve.
Koji just held his fortune up like a war banner. “The ancestors want you pregnant, Yuki.”
“I’m going to put you through a wall.”
“You’ll have to catch me, Mother of Destiny!”
And off he went, sprinting down the path like an idiot, Kuro bounding after him in delight.
Mother of Destiny… if only he knew.
(End of chapter)
