SaintGreenz - Saint Naruto (CH 7)

A/N: This story is rated M for mature content not suitable for children.

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Chapter 7: The Nine-Year

One Piece Universe

The storm in the New World did not rain water; it rained liquid lightning.

Nine years had passed since the Bondola lift carried an eleven-year-old girl in iron manacles above the cloud ceiling of the Red Line. Nine years of blood, iron, and uncompromising temper.

In the center of the main deck of the Imperator Storm, twenty miles off the coast of the volcanic island of Raijin, a twenty-year-old woman stood motionless amidst a hurricane of lethal sea spray and crackling blue static.

Kuina had grown tall. Her shoulders were sleek and broad, her waist narrow, bounded tight by a corseted girdle of dragon-lizard leather trimmed with dark silver filigree. She wore a high-collared sleeveless tunic of reinforced obsidian silk, open down the sides to reveal the fluid, lethal contours of her back and ribs, muscles forged not by nature, but by nine years of brutal, daily torment under the hands of Saint Naruto. Her dark hair was cut in a sharp, asymmetrical bob that barely brushed her collarbones, framing a face stripped of all childhood softeness. Her dark eyes held no warmth, no doubt, and no hesitation.

They were the eyes of an absolute killer.

At her left hip hung Karasuba. The Cursed Meito no longer hummed with chaotic bloodlust; its black ray-skin handle was worn smooth by thousands of hours of her grip, its ancient malice completely subdued and bound beneath her iron will.

Standing thirty paces across the wet deck was Vice Admiral Bastille of the Navy’s G-5 division, a hulking giant wearing a horned iron mask, wielding a twelve-foot shark-severing broadsword (Shark Cutter).

"You are arrogant, girl!" Bastille roared over the thunder, his voice echoing through his iron mask as he raised his massive blade with two hands. "Saint Naruto may command the World Government's budget, but you are just his personal pet! You have no authority to intercept a G-5 inspection fleet!"

Kuina did not raise her sword. Her arms hung relaxed at her sides, her bare shoulders slick with rain.

"Vice Admiral," Kuina spoke, her voice a low, melodic purr that carried effortless power across the gale. "My master ordered your fleet to turn back three leagues ago. You chose to debate his instructions. That makes you an obstacle."

"I am a Navy Vice Admiral!" Bastille shrieked, exploding forward across the deck with a high-speed Sori step. His massive twelve-foot broadsword descended like a falling guillotine, wrapped in a shimmering coat of black Armament Haki designed to cleave warships in two. "SHARK CUTTER: GRAND SLASH!"

Kuina did not dodge. She did not even step back.

She simply reached out with her bare right hand.

THWACK!

A shockwave of sheer physical pressure exploded across the quarterdeck, blasting the rain outward in a fifty-foot circle.

The giant twelve-foot blade came to a dead stop two inches above Kuina's head. Her bare palm, completely coated in a layer of pitch-black, glass-smooth Armament Haki, had caught the edge of Bastille's strike directly between her thumb and index finger.

Bastille’s eyes widened behind his iron mask in absolute horror. "W-What?! Bare-handed... against a G-5 Vice Admiral's full power?!"

"Your Haki is soft," Kuina whispered coldly. "It lacks discipline. It lacks purpose."

She flexed her black-coated fingers.

CRACK!

The twelve-foot Meito-grade broadsword shattered into a hundred iron fragments, raining down onto the dark timber of the deck.

Before Bastille could even process the destruction of his weapon, Kuina's hand blurred. Karasuba left its sheath in a single, invisible draw-strike.

SHIN!

A razor-thin line of blood appeared across the horns of Bastille's iron mask. The heavy metal visor split perfectly down the middle, falling away to reveal his pale, sweating face. Kuina's black blade rested precisely against his throat, pressing just deep enough to draw a single red bead of blood onto his collar.

"If I wanted you dead, Vice Admiral," Kuina murmured, leaning in close enough for him to see the cold, electric blue light reflected in her dark eyes, "your head would already be floating in the wake of our ship. Turn your fleet around and tell G-5 that House Aurelius does not accept inspections."

Bastille swallowed hard, his throat pressing against the razor edge of her cursed steel. "U-Understood..."

Kuina snapped Karasuba back into its sheath with a crisp CLICK. She turned her back on the giant Vice Admiral, not giving him a second glance as he stumbled backward off the quarterdeck and scrambled down the gangplank to his retreating Marine vessel.

The double oak doors of the grand stern cabin opened without a sound.

Inside, the storm raging over the New World vanished. The cabin was a vast, sprawling sanctuary lined with dark mahogany bookshelves, thick Persian carpets, and high stained-glass windows looking out over the boiling sea behind the warship. In the center of the room sat a massive desk of solid black marble, behind which rested a high-backed throne of ivory and dark blue velvet.

Naruto sat on the throne.

At twenty-four years old, the young Saint of House Aurelius had transcended even the terrifying reputation of his youth. He wore no white robes or glass bubble of the traditional Celestial Dragons. He wore an tailored dark navy coat over a open silk vest, exposing a chest crisscrossed by glowing, geometric circuits of permanent blue lightning, the physical manifestation of his full mastery over the Raijin fruit. His golden hair was slightly longer, pulled back neatly at the nape of his neck, and his cold blue eyes held the absolute, terrifying boredom of a man who owned empires.

Kuina walked to the center of the room.

The moment the heavy doors closed behind her, her cold, lethal demeanor melted away. She dropped smoothly to both knees on the soft velvet carpet, bowing her head until her short dark hair brushed the floor five feet from his desk.

"Vice Admiral Bastille has withdrawn his fleet, My Lord," Kuina reported, her voice soft, respectful, and entirely devoid of the arrogance she had shown on deck. "G-5 will not trouble our shipping lanes through the sector again."

Naruto did not look up from the leather-bound ledger he was reading. "Did you kill him?"

"No, master," Kuina replied, keeping her head low. "You instructed me to minimize Marine casualties while we remain within two days' sail of Marineford."

"Good," Naruto murmured, setting his quill down on the desk. "You're learning restraint. Nine years ago, you would have cut his head off just to test if your wrist was stiff."

He stood up from his ivory throne, walking around the marble desk with slow, deliberate steps. The subtle, electric pressure of his presence filled the room, making the air warm and heavy with the scent of ozone and rich cedarwood.

He stopped directly in front of her.

"Up," Naruto commanded softly.

Kuina stood up smoothly, her dark eyes rising to meet his.

Though she was a master swordswoman capable of cleaving Vice Admirals in half, standing before him, she was entirely exposed. Naruto reached out, his warm, long fingers cupping her jawline, his thumb gently wiping a stray drop of rainwater from her lower lip.

His skin burned with that familiar, intoxicating electric heat that had bound her to him for nearly a decade.

"Your Haki was sloppy on the second draw," Naruto said softly, his thumb trailing down her throat to the collar of her leather tunic. "You hesitated for a microsecond before catching his blade."

"I was adjusting for the rolling deck, master," Kuina murmured, her breath catching as his fingers slid beneath her leather strap, pressing against her warm collarbone.

"An excuse," Naruto chided gently, pulling her body forward until her soft chest pressed against his vest. "In the New World, a microsecond of hesitation gets your head mounted on an Emperor's wall. Do I need to re-tie those lead weights to your thighs?"

Kuina’s heart hammered against her ribs, a dark, shiver of excitement running down her spine. She leaned into his touch, wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his chest where the steady, rhythmic pulse of his lightning thrummed beneath his skin.

"If it pleases you, master," Kuina whispered, her eyes closing in complete submission. "My body is yours to break and rebuild whenever you wish."

Naruto let out a low, satisfied laugh. He hooked his hand beneath her chin, tilting her head back, and brought his lips down onto hers in a hard, possessive kiss.

Kuina parted her lips willingly, melting against him, her weak fingers clutching at his silk vest as he asserted his absolute ownership over his finest creation. For nine years, she had lived for this touch, for the ruthless, uncompromising strength of the god who had pulled her out of the dirt and made her something magnificent.

A soft, mechanical chime echoed near the cabin entrance.

Naruto broke the kiss slowly, his fingers lingering against Kuina's cheek as she pulled back, her chest heaving, her cheeks flushed warm. She immediately adjusted her leather girdle, stepping back into her position half a pace behind his right shoulder, her expression snapping back into cold, emotionless iron in a fraction of a second.

"Enter," Naruto called out flatly.

The heavy oak doors slid open. Guernica, the lead agent of CP0, walked into the cabin. He still wore his immaculate white suit and featureless porcelain mask, though his posture toward Saint Naruto was far more submissive than it had been nine years ago in the vaults of Mariejois.

Guernica dropped to one knee, holding out a sealed leather folder stamped with the dark red wax seal of the World Government Intelligence Division.

"Saint Naruto," Guernica spoke, his muffled voice echoing behind his visor. "An urgent intelligence dispatch has just arrived via news-coo from the East Blue branch."

Naruto walked back to his desk, leaning against the marble edge with his arms folded. "The East Blue? Why is the weakest sea in the world bothering my desk?"

"A local Marine captain named Morgan was overthrown three days ago at Shells Town," Guernica explained, opening the folder. "A rookie pirate named 'Straw Hat' Luffy has begun gathering a crew. But that is not the reason for this priority dispatch."

Guernica pulled out a pair of high-resolution photographic documents and laid them on the marble desk.

"The rookie pirate's first recruit is a twenty-year-old pirate hunter named Roronoa Zoro," Guernica said flatly. "And according to the local Marine quartermaster's registry... he is wielding a specific, registered Meito blade."

Kuina’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of the name Zoro.

Naruto glanced down at the photograph lying on his desk.

The image showed a sharp-eyed young man with short green hair, three swords buckled to his waist, wearing a dirty white shirt and green belly-band. But Naruto’s eyes didn't focus on the boy's face. They focused on the pristine white scabbard hanging from his left hip—a sword with a round golden guard and a pure white ray-skin grip.

Wado Ichimonji. One of the 21 Great Grade Swords (O Wazamono).

The room fell into an icy, suffocating silence.

Kuina took a single step forward, her eyes locked on the photograph. Her breathing remained steady, but the temperature around her body plummeted. The dark leather of her tunic creaked as her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides.

"Wado Ichimonji..." Kuina whispered, her voice colder than the New World ocean. "My father's blade. The blade that was meant to be passed down to the heir of the Shimotsuki clan."

"It seems your father found a replacement heir after you disappeared, Kuina," Naruto said softly, a dark, amused smile touching his lips. He picked up the photograph, turning it over in his fingers. "Roronoa Zoro. The boy who used to cry every time you beat him in his childhood spars."

Kuina stared at the image of Zoro. Nine years ago, he was an annoying, loud-mouthed brat who swore he would become the greatest swordsman in the world. Now, he was roaming the East Blue, carrying her ancestral blade, playing pirate hunter while her father smiled proudly in his quiet, pathetic village.

"He is wearing my steel," Kuina growled, a faint thread of black static flickering around her knuckles. "My father gave my birthright to a dog who couldn't even beat an eleven-year-old girl."

"He thinks you're dead," Naruto reminded her lazily, tossing the photograph back onto the desk. "Remember? You fell down a flight of stairs. You were buried under a wooden marker in the rain while he moved on to teach his new favorite pupil."

The words cut with precision, reigniting the white-hot, bitter hatred that had fueled Kuina's training for nearly a decade.

She turned to Naruto, dropping to one knee before his desk, her dark eyes burning with absolute, desperate entreaty.

"Master," Kuina pleaded, her voice tight with raw emotion. "Grant me leave. Let me take a fast cutter to the East Blue. I will find this boy, strip my father's steel from his corpse, and bring it back to lay at your feet."

Naruto looked down at her kneeling form. He didn't answer immediately. He walked to the wide stained-glass window, looking out over the dark, churning waves of the New World.

"No," Naruto said finally.

Kuina’s heart sank, her jaw clenching, though she didn't dare question his command.

"You won't take a fast cutter," Naruto continued, turning his head to look at her with a sharp, wicked smirk. "We are bringing the Imperator Storm."

Kuina raised her head in shock. "My Lord? The flagship? For an East Blue rookie?"

"The Five Elders have been bugging me to conduct an inspection tour of the lower seas for six months anyway," Naruto said smoothly, walking over and placing his hand on her shoulder, lifting her back to her feet. "And besides... I want to watch your face when you break that boy's three swords in half."

He looked at Guernica, who remained kneeling on the floor.

"Where is this 'Straw Hat' crew headed next?" Naruto demanded.

"Marine intelligence indicates they are pursuing a sea-route toward the offshore ocean restaurant, Baratie," Guernica reported instantly. "They are expected to arrive within five days."

"Set course for the Red Line," Naruto ordered, his blue eyes flashing with electric dominance. "We are going through the King's Gate directly into Paradise, then down into the East Blue. Tell the Captain to run full engine power. I want to arrive at the Baratie before the sun sets on the fifth day."

"At once, Saint Naruto!" Guernica bowed deeply and backed out of the cabin, closing the heavy doors behind him.

For four days, the Imperator Storm plowed through the ocean like a black mountain of iron and lightning.

With its hybrid engines powered directly by the captive electric reserves of Naruto's Raijin fruit, the colossal black warship covered distances that would take standard Navy galleons weeks to traverse. They bypassed the standard Calm Belt routes using Saint Naruto's private World Government authorization gates, cutting through the Red Line and descending into the tranquil, blue waters of the East Blue.

Inside the stern cabin on the fourth night, the atmosphere was dense with physical heat and intense pressure.

Kuina sat cross-legged on a low leather mat, completely naked from the waist up, her bare skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat. Resting across her lap was Karasuba.

Naruto stood behind her. He held two heavy iron needles dipped in specialized, conductive silver ink, a rare technique developed in the Wano Country designed to permanently bind an individual's spiritual energy directly to their skin.

"Hold still," Naruto commanded softly.

He pressed the silver needle into the skin between her shoulder blades.

ZZZZT.

A sharp, electric jolt shot through Kuina's spine as the needle bit into her flesh. She didn't cry out. She gritted her teeth, her hands gripping the sheath of Karasuba so tightly her knuckles turned white, her chest rising and falling in deep, rhythmic breaths.

Naruto was tattooing the crest of House Aurelius directly over her spine, a stylized storm-circle wrapped in black lightning.

"This ink will allow your body to channel my Raijin electricity without burning your nervous system," Naruto explained, his hands steady as he moved the needle across her back with surgical precision. "When you clash with high-level Haki users, you can run my lightning directly down the edge of Karasuba."

"A storm-blade..." Kuina gasped out through her locked teeth, the heat in her back feeling like molten lead being poured beneath her skin.

"My storm-blade," Naruto corrected her, leaning down and pressing his warm lips against the base of her neck, right above the fresh, bleeding silver mark. "A weapon that belongs exclusively to me."

As the final stroke of the needle finished, the silver tattoo on her back flared with a brilliant, pale blue light. The light slowly faded beneath her skin, leaving a dark, elegant storm crest permanently etched between her shoulder blades.

Kuina let out a long, shuddering breath. She turned her body, looking over her shoulder at him, her dark eyes filled with deep, unspoken gratitude.

She reached out, grabbing his hand and pressing his palm against her cheek, kissing the calloused skin of his knuckles.

"Tomorrow we reach the Baratie," Kuina whispered, her voice soft and lethal. "Tomorrow I show Zoro what a real swordwoman looks like."

Naruto smiled, a sharp, cruel expression that promised absolute ruin to anyone who stood in their path.

"Don't just show him, Kuina," Naruto murmured, pulling her up into his arms and carrying her toward the wide cherrywood bed. "Destroy him."

The morning sun over the East Blue was soft, bright, and completely peaceful.

The ocean restaurant Baratie floated peacefully on the blue water, a giant, fish-shaped wooden vessel with wide yellow decks, colorful banners, and high dining balconies filled with wealthy guests enjoying fine seafood.

Clung to the side of the restaurant was the wreckage of Don Krieg's pirate fleet, a massive, shattered flagship that had been cut clean in half by a single slash from Dracule Mihawk, the World's Greatest Swordsman.

On the flat, floating wooden deck of the main wreckage, two men stood facing each other.

On one side stood Dracule Mihawk, wearing his wide-brimmed black hat, dark red coat, and holding the Black Blade Yoru, the strongest sword in the world, slanted casually toward the deck.

On the other side stood Roronoa Zoro. He wore a black bandana tied around his forehead, holding two standard katanas in his hands, and the pristine white Wado Ichimonji clamped firmly between his teeth. His eyes burned with desperate, wild ambition.

"Is this the gap between us?!" Zoro spat around the white hilt in his mouth, his arms trembling with exhaustion and adrenaline. "Is this how wide the world really is?!"

Mihawk looked down at the young man with cold, bored pity, holding a tiny, three-inch pendant knife in his right hand. "You fight with heavy ambition, boy, but your world is small. You are simply weak."

In the background, on the deck of the Baratie, a young boy wearing a straw hat shouted at the top of his lungs: "ZORO! DON'T DIE!"

Zoro drew his two outer swords back, dropping into his ultimate stance. "THREE-SWORD STYLE SECRET TECHNIQUE: THREE THOUSAND WORLD..."

Before Zoro could step forward, the sky above the Baratie suddenly turned pitch-black.

BOOOOOOOM!

A deafening, atmospheric thunderclap echoed across the ocean, shattering every glass window on the upper balconies of the restaurant at once. The peaceful blue sky vanished beneath a massive, localized vortex of bruised purple clouds and roaring blue lightning.

Mihawk stopped his movement. His sharp, hawk-like yellow eyes turned slowly toward the northern horizon, his hand tightening slightly on the hilt of Yoru.

"What is that?!" Sanji, the blonde chef standing on the balcony, screamed, holding his hands over his ears. "A typhoon?! Out of nowhere?!"

"Look!" Luffy yelled, pointing his rubber arm toward the sea. "Look at the water!"

Emerging from the thick fog bank was a colossal, three-hundred-foot warship made of solid black iron and armored titanium. It bore no Marine flags. Its massive black silk sails fluttered in the gale, carrying the silver-and-blue storm crest of House Aurelius.

The sheer size of the dreadnought created a thirty-foot bow wave that slammed into the Baratie, causing the floating restaurant to tilt violently to the side.

CLANG!

The giant warship dropped its heavy titanium anchors fifty yards from the wreckage, coming to a dead stop.

Standing on the high quarterdeck of the black ship was Saint Naruto. His fur-trimmed navy coat billowed in the storm wind, his hands resting in his pockets, looking down at the small scene below with supreme, god-like indifference.

Beside him stood Kuina.

Zoro froze on the floating deck. His eyes slowly drifted up from Mihawk to the deck of the colossal black ship.

When his gaze settled on the dark-haired woman standing beside the Celestial Dragon, wearing black silk armor, wielding a dark Cursed Meito, her cold dark eyes looking down at him as if he were an insect, Zoro’s breath stopped dead in his throat.

The white hilt of Wado Ichimonji fell from his teeth, clattering onto the wet wood at his feet.

"K... Kuina...?" Zoro choked out, his voice trembling in complete, unadulterated shock. "No... that's impossible... You... you died nine years ago..."

Kuina walked to the edge of the quarterdeck railing. She didn't look at Mihawk. She didn't look at Luffy.

Her dark eyes locked onto Zoro's pale, trembling face.

"You're holding my blade, Zoro," Kuina's voice echoed across the quiet sea, cold, sharp, and hard as absolute iron. "Put it down before I carve your hands off."

Chapter End

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A/N: Naruto has bestowed some of his power upon Kuina, enhancing her abilities further as they prepare to reclaim the sword that rightfully belongs to her. Stay tuned for the next update to see what unfolds!