Three days.
That's how long Kūga waited by the log, unmoving. He watched the sky shift from bright blue to dark amber and back again, the rhythmic dance of day and night passing him by like idle conversation.
The sun had seared the earth, and the cold nights had nipped at his skin, but still, he did not stir. His gaze never left the small hut, his thoughts wandering in circles, trying to make sense of his actions.
'Why am I still here?' The thought crossed his mind more than once, yet no answer came.
Sympathy? For her? He scoffed internally.
It wasn't something he was accustomed to—waiting for someone, letting time pass so carelessly. He wouldn't have done this for Madara, nor Hashirama.
The thought of sitting still, not moving for the sake of another person seemed laughable to him.
'Yeah right. No chance.'
But for this woman, he remained.
Maybe it was the Aether. Maybe the faint connection between them, the shared flicker of that ancient power, had anchored him here.
Kūga frowned, shaking his head. 'I don't know...'
The question lingered, but before he could delve deeper, movement at the hut caught his attention.
The woman stepped out, her figure hunched, her steps slow and deliberate.
Even from a distance, Kūga could see the toll the last few days had taken on her. The deep shadows under her eyes, the hollow cheeks, the exhaustion etched into every movement. She was fragile, like glass on the verge of shattering.
She didn't notice him, of course—his invisibility still cloaked him in the Aether's embrace.
Kūga watched as she grabbed a shovel that had been leaning against the wall of the hut, her frail hands barely able to hold it properly. Without a word, she began to walk, her figure retreating behind the hut, moving toward a single tree standing tall against the horizon.
A tree full of life—an oak, symbolizing strength, resilience, and moving forward in the face of hardship. It was the perfect contrast to her frail form, yet also fitting.
Kūga followed her silently, his curiosity piqued.
She began to dig.
The hours stretched on as she shoveled beneath the tree, the sun slowly arching across the sky. Her movements were sluggish, clumsy, but determined. Kūga stood there, watching, his hands twitching with the urge to help her, though he knew better. His presence would only disturb her fragile peace.
'Wait... I'm stalking her, aren't I?' The realization hit him with a strange sort of humor, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. 'Who would've thought? Kūga, master of Aether... a stalker'
He shook his head again, amused at the absurdity of the situation.
After what felt like an eternity, she finally stopped. The pit beneath the oak was complete, a small grave waiting for its occupant. The woman disappeared back into the hut, her legs unsteady, her breath ragged. Kūga remained by the tree, waiting.
When she returned, the weight of her burden became clear.
In her arms, wrapped in simple cloth, was a lifeless form. Kūga's eyes softened at the sight. 'Her mother…'
He hadn't taken a look inside the hut before, not wanting to intrude on her grief. Now, it was clear.
The woman's trembling arms struggled to carry the body, her knees buckling under the weight, her face twisted in pain and sorrow.
But her legs gave out before she could make it to the grave.
In an instant, Kūga was at her side.
The world seemed to slow down, everything moving in an almost dreamlike haze. His arm wrapped gently around her waist, steadying her, while his other hand moved to balance the body she carried, ensuring it didn't fall.
At that moment, time froze.
The woman's tear-filled eyes met Kūga's, wide with shock, disbelief, and something else—a vulnerability she hadn't shown to anyone. For Kūga, who had mastered the flow of time itself, it felt like minutes stretched into an eternity, though only seconds had passed.
His presence, his touch, the weight of his Aether caused a spark connecting them in a way that was far beyond physical, undoing his invisibility. It was a strange sensation for him too, something he hadn't felt in a long time.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice calm and steady.
The woman's expression changed from shock to horror. With a startled shout, she tried to pull away, nearly dropping her mother in the process.
Kūga's eyes widened comically, and he blurted out, "Ah! Wait—your mom's gonna fall!"
Despite her panic, he managed to balance the body in her arms, preventing the disaster. The woman's gaze shifted between her mother and Kūga, her mind clearly struggling to process the situation.
"Before you say anything," Kūga began with a grin, still holding the body with ease, "let me help you first. You don't want to drop her now, do you?"
The woman stared at him, torn between confusion, fear, and exhaustion.
Finally, with a small, defeated sigh, she nodded. "Okay..."
Carefully, Kūga adjusted himself and fully took the burden from her arms. The woman watched in silence as he followed her lead, guiding them toward the pit she had dug beneath the oak. When they reached the grave, Kūga gently laid her mother to rest, his movements slow and respectful.
Without a word, he grabbed the shovel and prepared to start covering the grave. But before he could begin, a soft hand grabbed his forearm.
He paused, sensing her intentions. Quietly, he handed the shovel over to her.
She wanted to do this herself.
For the next several minutes, Kūga stood in silence as the woman shoveled dirt back into the grave. Each movement was deliberate, filled with quiet mourning. The finality of the act weighed heavily in the air.
When the grave was fully covered, she stood there for a long moment, staring at the ground as if waiting for some sign, some reassurance that her mother was truly at peace.
Her legs trembled, her body swayed. Before she could collapse, she glanced at Kūga once more, her lips parting as if to say something—then her eyes rolled back, and she fell into unconsciousness.
Kūga sighed, catching her in his arms with ease, cradling her as if she weighed nothing.
'How do I explain this?' he thought with a wry smile.
With gentle care, he lifted her into a princess carry, her head resting against his chest, her body limp from exhaustion. He walked toward the hut, his footsteps quiet and sure.
Once inside, he laid her down on the bed, using Aether to clean the area thoroughly, ensuring it was free of dust and grime. The soft light of the afternoon filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow over the room.
'Well... I guess I'll just wait for her to wake up.'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The woman still lay asleep on the bed, her breathing slow and even. Kūga glanced over at her briefly before sighing, standing up from his spot by the window. His mind was restless, the silence of the hut too heavy, too still. If she didn't wake soon, she'd need sustenance. That much he knew.
'Guess I better find something...'
He stepped outside, the air cool and crisp against his skin. His Aether senses stretched outwards, sweeping over the landscape until he detected a small herd of cattle grazing about a mile away from the hut.
Perfect.
Without hesitation, Kūga floated upward and swiftly made his way towards the herd. When he arrived, the cattle were scattered across the plains, grazing peacefully under the morning sun.
He descended gracefully, landing quietly among them, eyeing the biggest one in the group. He chose a healthy-looking animal, a large bull with thick muscles rippling under its coat.
With a swift and precise motion, Kūga channeled his Aether into his hand, creating a thin, invisible blade. He approached the animal, placing a hand on its flank in a silent gesture of respect before swiftly ending its life with a single, clean cut.
The bull slumped to the ground with barely a sound. Kūga quickly set to work.
.
Skinning the animal was a messy task, but Kūga's hands moved with the practiced efficiency of someone who had done this countless times. The hide peeled away from the flesh easily, the fresh smell of raw meat filling the air.
He divided the parts of the beef expertly, separating the less desirable cuts from the prime sections. With a small grin, he set aside the most expensive cuts—the tenderloin and the ribeye—for himself and the woman.
The rest of the beef, Kūga loaded onto a wooden handcart he had conjured with Aether.
The cart materialized in front of him, its wooden frame sturdy and polished, ready to carry the load of meat. He wrapped the prime cuts in cloth, then used a small burst of Aether to chill the air around them, ensuring they would stay fresh.
With the meat safely packed, Kūga glanced back at the hut one more time before heading towards the village.
.
The settlement marketplace was lively, filled with the chatter of townspeople and the rich aroma of fresh produce. Kūga walked casually through the crowds, blending in effortlessly despite dragging a wooden cart piled with meat behind him.
He noticed a few guards eyeing him curiously, their gazes lingering on his white hair and foreign appearance, but none of them approached him.
They seemed to question themselves, likely wondering how someone like Kūga had slipped into the village unnoticed, but they kept their thoughts to themselves.
Kūga smirked inwardly as he strolled through the bustling market, his eyes scanning the various stalls. He stopped when he spotted Fūgo, the local farmer, standing in the middle of the marketplace, shouting, "Cabbages for sale! Fresh cabbages right here!"
Kūga made his way over, hearing the man's voice rise above the noise of the market. Fūgo's face brightened as he saw him approaching.
"Kūga-san! It's nice to see you here!" Fūgo greeted him with a wide smile.
"Hi, Fūgo-san," Kūga replied with a grin, eyeing the small pile of cabbages remaining on the farmer's stall. "Looks like business is going well for you."
Fūgo chuckled heartily, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, Kami-sama must have blessed me with some luck! It's been four days, and my cabbages are still as fresh as when I picked them."
Kūga raised an eyebrow, amused. "Is that so? Well then, how about you pass some of that luck along to me and sell me one of those cabbages?"
Fūgo laughed again, delighted. "Of course! For you, Kūga-san, I'll give you the best one!" He handed Kūga a large, crisp cabbage and patted him on the shoulder.
Kūga paid for the cabbage, adding it to his cart. As he did, Fūgo busied himself with the rest of his customers, selling the remaining cabbages with ease.
Kūga watched for a moment before heading off to gather a few more vegetables and spices from other vendors, filling his cart with everything he needed to make a decent meal.
.
Back at the hut, Kūga entered quietly, glancing at the woman still fast asleep on the bed. She hadn't move or even shuffled once since he'd left. He stepped closer, noticing the peaceful rise and fall of her chest.
'Fourteen hours...' he mused.
She was still exhausted, and given everything she'd been through, it made sense. With a shrug, Kūga moved to the small kitchen area of the hut and set down his supplies.
He unwrapped the prime cuts of beef and retrieved the vegetables, laying everything out neatly. He then took a moment to assess the cooking tools available—basic, but enough to work with.
Kūga grinned, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction as he prepared to cook.
He began by chopping the vegetables—carrots, onions, and a few others he had gathered—his knife moving in quick, fluid motions. The sound of the knife against the cutting board was rhythmic, almost soothing. Next, he cut the beef into thick chunks, the marbled meat soft beneath his hands.
With everything prepped, Kūga stoked the fire and set a large pot over the flames, filling it with water and dropping in the vegetables and beef. As the broth began to simmer, he added the spices, the rich aroma of the meal slowly filling the small hut. He stirred the pot occasionally, watching as the ingredients blended together.
"Hunting, buying, harvesting… it's not bad, actually..." Kūga muttered to himself with a small chuckle.
There was something oddly peaceful about it all. Despite the heavy events of the day, there was a simple joy in creating something tangible, something warm and nourishing.
.
Meanwhile, the woman was lost in her dreams.
In the depths of her slumber, images flickered before her closed eyes. At first, it was darkness—heavy and suffocating, the kind that made her feel as though she was drowning. But then, a light appeared.
Soft, faint at first, but growing stronger with each heartbeat. It wasn't sunlight—it was something more ethereal, something ancient and powerful.
She saw herself standing in the middle of an endless field, surrounded by a sea of glowing blue. It was Aether, swirling around her, touching her skin like the soft caress of the wind.
The energy felt familiar, comforting, yet distant. She reached out a hand, trying to grasp it, but it slipped through her fingers like water.
Then, a figure appeared before her.
Tall, imposing, cloaked in shadows but with eyes that gleamed with the same blue light as the Aether around them.
The figure spoke, but the words were muffled, distant. Still, she could feel the meaning behind them—a message, a calling, something ancient whispering to her, trying to pull her deeper into the dream.
She tried to walk forward, to approach the figure, but her feet felt heavy, as though rooted to the ground. The Aether swirled faster now, the light around her growing brighter, blinding even.
The figure stretched out a hand towards her, but before she could grasp it, the light shattered, and the dream dissolved.
.
The woman's eyes fluttered open, her vision blurry and her body heavy. She blinked a few times, groaning softly as she tried to make sense of her surroundings.
The scent of something savory filled the air, warm and inviting. However, her mind was still caught between the remnants of her dream and the reality she had woken up to.
Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light of the room, her body was still heavy from exhaustion. She heard a gentle crackle of fire and the comforting scent of something warm and savory lingering in the air, stirring a faint hunger in her stomach.
Before she fully could process her surroundings, a voice interrupted her foggy thoughts.
"You're finally awake..."
Her head turned towards the source of the voice, eyes trying to focus. She blinked, and the blurry figure before her began to take shape.
The first thing she noticed was the brilliant white hair that fell down to the man's shoulders and mesmerizing blue eyes that sparkled like the clear sky. They were the same shade of blue as her own, but where her hair was pitch black, his was as white as snow.
She stared at him for a few seconds, her mind catching up to the surreal sight before her.
Kūga stood there awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as he noticed her prolonged gaze. He offered a small smile, but the silence stretched on, making him feel slightly out of place.
Suddenly, the woman's eyes widened, memories flooding back—her mother, the grave, this strange man catching her in mid-collapse. Panic surged through her, and she tried to sit up, wanting to scream or shout, anything to regain control.
But her body refused to cooperate.
She was utterly drained, not a drop of energy left to give. Instead, all she could do was manage a weak groan of frustration.
Before she could do more, the tantalizing smell of food filled her nose, interrupting any thoughts of fear or anger. Her stomach growled loudly, the sound breaking the silence in the room.
"..."
She froze, wide-eyed, as Kūga burst into laughter—a deep, heartfelt chuckle that filled the small hut with warmth.
Embarrassed, she blushed fiercely, biting her lip as if that might somehow quiet her rebellious stomach.
"Before you get angry with me," Kūga started, his voice gentle but tinged with humor, "why don't you fill your stomach first? I figured you haven't eaten in a couple of days, so I made a simple broth. It'll be easy on your stomach."
With a wave of his hand, two bowls materialized out of thin air, floating gracefully to rest in front of him. The woman's eyes widened, her breath catching at the sight of the conjured bowls.
Aether.
She'd heard tales and whispers of such power, but seeing it in front of her was something else entirely.
Kūga's face softened as he noticed her amazement, but he didn't dwell on it.
He took the ladle from the pot simmering over the fire, filling both bowls with the fragrant broth. The rich aroma filled the room even more now, making the woman's stomach growl again.
Kūga smirked but then hid it, and conjured a simple wooden tray for her. With practiced ease, he walked over and placed the tray carefully on her lap, the bowl of steaming broth sitting in the center.
He set his own bowl on the small table near the bed and sat down, happily taking his first bite with a satisfied hum. His gaze flicked over to her as she hesitated, staring down at the bowl before her.
The broth looked so rich, and it smelled divine, far better than anything she had expected.
Slowly, she lifted the spoon to her lips and took a small sip. As the warm broth slid down her throat, she froze. The taste, the flavor—memories of her mother flooded her mind in an instant.
"It's… it's delicious," she whispered, her voice shaking as she fought to hold back her emotions. "Just like how… my mother made it…"
"Eh?" Kūga blinked, caught off guard.
His usual calm composure faltered, and he awkwardly scratched his cheek, clearly unsure how to handle the sudden wave of emotion. He laughed softly, though it was tinged with an awkwardness he rarely felt.
"Uh, glad you like it..." he said, offering a small, crooked smile as he watched her struggle with the tears that now flowed freely.
The woman continued eating slowly, savoring each bite, tears streaming down her cheeks. She tried to wipe them away, but they kept coming.
Kūga shifted uncomfortably, laughing softly again as he took another bite of his own meal.
Despite the awkwardness, he was happy she was eating. She needed it more than anything else right now.
The silence that followed was warm, filled only with the soft sounds of their eating and the crackle of the fire.
Though they were strangers, sitting together in that moment, it felt as though something had shifted between them—something small but meaningful. And Kūga, for all his power and experience, found himself surprisingly content just watching her eat.