I guess it struck me strongly that Kushina and Mikoto were actually friends. 0.o

who would have thought?

The tranquil morning in the Konohagakure was broken by a series of high, terrified screams. 9-year old Mikoto had found herself surrounded by a gang of menacing boys, all cracking their wrists threateningly. They jeered at her; one stepped forward and shoved her ruthlessly to the ground.

"Stop screaming," he snarled.

"Make anymore noise, and we'll beat you," another added.

Mikoto willed herself not to cry. A show of fear would do nothing to improve the situation. Nonetheless, traitorous tears leaked from her dark eyes against her will. She cowered and pressed against the rough forest earth, too scared to do anything more than whimper.

"Aww, look she's crying," the leader, a light-skinned thug with brown hair, said. "Girls are such wimps."

"Wimp!"

"You're such a crybaby."

They began to converge on her.

"Let's see how much she bleeds."

"Yeah, maybe that will teach her a lesson."

Mikoto closed her eyes and willed herself to disappear. She tensed as one reached forward and roughly yanked her up by the hair. The girl flinched in pain, but made no noise, raising her tearful eyes reluctantly into the sneering face of the bully. He smirked and raised his fist when—

A loud, brazen voice suddenly pierced the empty forest clearing.

"Stop it you jerks!"

The bully's eyes widened and he whipped around. A round-faced girl with fiery red hair stood in the line of the trees, fists raised, and body tensed. Upon catching sight of the new child, the boys laughed mockingly.

"Why, if it isn't the Tomato?"

"The freak from the Whirlpool country!"

"You dare show your ugly face here?"

"Shut up, dattebane!"

"Aw Kushina, we're not allowed to fight you," the brown-haired leader drawled. "But since you've interrupted us…"

"Old man Third might make an exception, just this once," another boy finished.

"So that I can pummel the snot out of you bastards?" The girl named Kushina retorted. She stepped forward aggressively and whipped a stray strand of hair out of her glaring eyes. "Let her go!" She pointed at Mikoto.

"Sure."

Mikoto found herself being unceremoniously dumped on the floor as the motley gang advanced on the other girl. All five of the boys raised their fists and quickly surrounded Kushina. Mikoto massaged her scalp gingerly where her hair had been ruthlessly yanked, watching in silent horror. A bloodbath was sure to come.

It was over instantly in a flash of violent red. But surprisingly, it was the boys lying on the floor, moaning and touching newly earned bruises, cringing from Kushina. She towered over the pitiful pile.

"Eat dirt, Dattebane!"

And with a last contemptuous look, Kushina turned her back on the pitiful pile of bullies. She approached Mikoto, who tottered backward and hastily retreated from the other's advancing steps. But the red-headed girl only knelt down and offered a hand. Mikoto stared, stunned.

"Are you alright? My name is Kushina. What's yours?" The girl had beautiful eyes, an exquisite constellation of silvery violent. They twinkled, almost as brightly as her triumphant grin.

"M-mikoto." And she hesitantly reached forward and grabbed the offered hand.

"Namikaze Minato?"

After hours upon endless hours of begging, persuasion, and threats, Mikoto had finally wrested a name from her friend. She daintily combed her raven hair, stunned into silence, both by her sudden outburst, and the unexpected answer.

Kushina frowned disapprovingly. "Why do you say his name like that?"

"Well…" Mikoto started. She paused and searched for words.

Undaunted, Kushina grasped the other's thin wrists and forced dark eyes to meet grey. "What?"

"Well...it's just that, you always look down on him! You always say he looks like a girl and that you could beat him anytime in a fight. You say he's weak and useless. And you told me he was a horrible shinobi! Why, oh why would you ever like him?"

At first Kushina didn't answer. She released Mikoto's wrists and ducked her head. The two girls sat silently, side by side, dangling their long, slim legs into the languid water of the small pond. Mikoto twirled her toes absentmindedly among the lily pads; the startled fish ducked away, but she paid no heed, eyes locked on the unusually silent Kushina. It wasn't like Kushina to have no snappy retort at the ready, to lash back at the offender with her fiery wrath. Her friend had been quiet ever since the failed kidnap by the Iwa shinobi, and Mikoto began to fear she had pushed her friend away from her with her hasty words.

She began to apologize, "Kushina, I didn't mean—"

"He said I had beautiful hair." Kushina interrupted Mikoto and glanced up shyly.

Mikoto simply gaped. "That's why you like him?"

"No! Of course not, dattebane!" Kushina's cheeks burned with bleak embarrassment until her face was almost as red as her hair. "It's just that well…" She paused again.

This time, it was Mikoto who egged her friend on. "Go on!"

Kushina locked eyes with Mikoto. "I never told you what happened when Iwa kidnapped me, did I?" she whispered.

Mikoto shook her head stunned. Kushina never talked about what had happened. Ever.

"Well…when they took me…I tried leaving traces for Konoha shinobi to find. I plucked out my hair." Kushina wound a red ribbon of tresses around her fingers. I was hoping that someone, anyone would see it and follow. I kept wishing, every minute, for a rescue team to come and save me.

"But we had almost reached the border and nobody had come. By then, I knew there was no hope left. If they had not found me before, there was almost certainly no chance of finding me now. We were almost at the Earth Country, and I was prepared to never see Konoha ever again.

"That's when Minato came." Kushina's eyes lit up like blazing meteors, burning with passionate intensity. "He found my hair, you see, and followed. He saved me. And afterwards, when we were safe," Kushina smiled tenderly. "He told me he had noticed my beautiful hair right away. And that's when I realized I l— really liked him, dattebane!" A blotchy blush of red had appeared on her cheeks again, like a careless spill of summer juice in the hands of wayward children. Mikoto found the expression rather endearing.

"But don't tell anyone!" Kushina was suddenly fierce again, hair whipping threateningly around her face. "Promise me that! They would make fun of me until the day I died, if they knew!"

Mikoto understood that "they" meant her fellow shinobi teammates. Not for the first time, a twinge of jealousy lodged itself in her chest. After all, the life of a ninja sounded so adventurous and exciting, clothed in the grandeur of unknown dangers. She wished for that daring exhilaration, to escape from her mundane life in the village and explore the edges of the Fire Country. But that was neither here nor there. Here was the present, with the gangly teenage Kushina and her wrath, glaring furiously and positively scorching Mikoto with the intensity of her violent-silver eyes.

Mikoto smiled reassuringly. "I promise."

"No, not that one."

"Yes, I agree." Mikoto eyed her reflection critically. She gathered up the white chiffon and carefully marched back into the dressing room, trying not to trip on any trailing lace. Kushina lounged nearby on an elegant sofa and rolled her eyes at the store attendant, who presented Mikoto with yet another wedding dress.

"Here try this one, ma'am," the store attendant twittered. "It will complement your figure beautifully, and just admire the lace! Finest Water country lace there is, and see how the pattern here is woven so delicately?" She indicated at the floral adornments that served as straps for the dress. "It's truly a beautiful number, just made for you—"

"Yes yes, like the other 300 hundred dresses she has tried on!" Kushina barked. "Find one that isn't ridiculously hideous, dattebane!"

"Well, I never!" gasped the attendant. "You—"

"If you don't wish to see this building destroyed, keep your trap shut!"

"Kushina," Mikoto reproached from behind her dressing room door. "I thought you were more mature than that."

"Well, if good help wasn't so hard to find these days!" Kushina stood and stomped out of the elegant sitting area. "Wait here while I find an actually decent dress for you!"

The store attendant sputtered despairingly before departing.

Wise choice, Mikoto mused. Kushina's short temper may have improved over the years, but with the wedding so close, both women were tense enough as it is. For several minutes, all Mikoto could hear was the squeak of hangers as Kushina pawed through wedding dress after wedding dress on the racks. She pushed her dark bangs back and leaned her head on the paneled wall of the dressing room, trying to relax her already stiff and sore shoulders, counting down the days when this was all over, and she was married to Uchiha Fugaku…An arranged marriage was not what she had imagined for herself. No. But her life had always caged her in. First inside the village, and now inside the home of a reclusive man, for whom she had no feelings for. Long ago, Mikoto had accepted her fate. She was a pretty item, to be displayed, looked at, and admired. Kushina on the other hand….

"Here!" A wedding dress was vehemently thrust over the door. Mikoto glanced up and was promptly buried underneath the staggering chiffon and silk.

"Try it on." Kushina's footsteps retreated as she once again, sat down on the sofa.

After she had extracted herself with difficulty from the white deluge, Mikoto undid the zipper and stepped into the dress. She exited the dressing room, and Kushina immediately rushed to her side to zip it closed.

She stepped onto the platform and faced the mirrors only to gasp. It was a simple dress, but it hugged Mikoto's figure with an elegant stream of white cloth. Even in stillness, she looked willowy and graceful, dark raven hair glinting magnificently against the silk.

"I think this is it," Kushina purred. She had joined Mikoto at the mirrors.

Mikoto laced her fingers into Kushina's hand and the two friends admired the stunning soon-to-be bride in the mirror. "Yes, it is," she sighed with delight.

"Itachi. Say hi to Kushina-san."

"Hello," the boy intoned, expression guarded and wary. He flinched slightly when Kushina knelt down beside the small table and peered kindly at him.

"He has your hair and eyes, Mikoto," Kushina remarked.

"Yes, so I've heard." Mikoto smiled tenderly and turned towards the sink to continue washing the dishes.

At that moment, a sudden boom shattered the calm. The window panes rattled, the floorboards shook, and Itachi cringed in fear at the table.

The two women whipped around and looked at each other in alarm. After a tense moment, Kushina said too-casually, "Well, I was wondering when the Iwa ninja would try exploding clay."

"That won't reach the buildings inside the village, will it?" Mikoto gasped.

"No, no, of course not." But Kushina's voice was too soothing, too controlled.

Mikoto narrowed her eyes. She resumed her scrubbing, but with less contentment than before.

"All the same," murmured Kushina. "This war has to end sometime."

Mikoto made no response. She lavished attention on the mundane chore, if only to distract herself from the ensuing battle at the outskirts of the village. Itachi sat silently at the table now, too scared to continue playing with his toys.

Another earth-shattering explosion sounded again. The ceiling lamp quaked ominously. Kushina stood. "I better check up on reinforcements." She departed, a mane of red hair whipping out of the doorway.

Itachi only eyed the trembling ceiling fearfully.

"Does it hurt badly, dattebane?" The words, so childish and silly on Kushina's lips, made Mikoto smile.

"Well, well, even you are afraid of something," Mikoto teased.

Before Kushina could respond, Biwako was dragging her away, hissing reprimanding words.

Mikoto watched the Kushina's figure, swollen with child, retreat into the night, and smiled again. She glanced down at little Sasuke, content and asleep in her arms. Friends with Kushina's child, she mused. The duo would certainly be an unstoppable pair of shinobi.

Mikoto placed a swath of golden-petaled flowers on the ground respectfully. A gentle autumn breeze ruffled her hair, but she paid no notice and stood, reflecting, wondering, and mourning. So many things left unspoken all wasted, all stolen away.

It was dark when eventually, she left as well.

The gravestone read Uzumaki Kushina.

It was only years later, when Itachi carefully positioned his blade at his mother's neck before dealing the final blow, that Mikoto remembered Kushina, among many other things, had scorned the idea of Itachi becoming a shinobi.

"He's too gentle, Mikoto!" she had scoffed, turning a purple eye at the young boy. "Look at him! He won't hurt a fly!"

Fugaku, on the other hand, saw Itachi in a different light. "He will be the pride of the Uchiha clan, Mikoto," he had said proudly.

In fact, they had many arguments about Itachi, especially when he went on difficult missions that always returned the boy bruised and worn.

"He's so young!" Mikoto had protested. "Look at him! He's your son, Fugaku! Don't push him like this."

"Do not concern yourself with Itachi's wellbeing," Fugaku had always responded. "He is a shinobi. He knows how to take care of himself."

But do you really, Itachi? Mikoto wondered, staring up at her son's shadowy face. You have only ever hurt yourself to protect others.

Just like Kushina. She gave up life for her son.

And now it was Mikoto's turn.

Itachi's hand paused; the blade swung forward in a flash of glinting metal.

Well, what do you think? My first fanfic-so i want to hear some feedback please!