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Kushina was even younger than she is now when she became a jinchuuriki, Rin learns one afternoon. They’re sitting in the grass some distance away from the main portion of the camp she has been held at for nearly three weeks now. She has spent a lot of time with her; she’d heard the stories of the Uzumaki clan’s sealing abilities but never in her life had she expected to be on the receiving end of those seals.
The original seal for the Sanbi sealed inside her was a mess when Kushina had first taken a look at it. She’d sworn under her breath, lightly touching the dark lines on her stomach, finger infused with the faintest hint of chakra; just enough to see how much of a mess Kiri had made, but not nearly enough to disturb the tailed beast. Her red hair had been pulled back in a hurry, leaving some strands to fall in front of her worried eyes. Rin had known even then that she’d be in good hands with Kushina, and as scared as she was, she had been confident they’d find a solution quickly, and she’d get to go home with Obito and Kakashi.
She hopes they will. She feels the Three-Tails stir sometimes when she’s asleep, and when she wakes up, it’s as if the memories of underwater caves and deep ocean and the feel of scaly skin aren’t her own. She lets the turtle slumber for a while more, even if Kushina did say that talking to it might help the process of undoing the faulty seal.
She didn’t expect to still be here over a month later, eagerly awaiting her teammate's visits each day. In the time she’s been there, Obito has visited the most, while Kakashi only came twice, accompanied by Minato. It broke her heart the first time he had come by the makeshift camp, how lost and how broken he had looked; no headband, no tanto on his back. Just a twelve years old boy who holds himself responsible for so many things out of his control. Rin had pulled him close, taking his hand and wrapping her arms loosely around him, giving Kakashi plenty of room to escape her embrace if he wanted to. She’d felt him barely holding on, his hands coming up to rest on her back, his nose buried in the crook of her neck like he was trying to take in as much of her scent as possible; his entire energy, not just his chakra, felt unsteady, frayed at the hem. She tightened her hold around him, wishing so much her healing capabilities would make her able to hold Kakashi together.
And there’s Obito. He’s spent as much time with her as he’s been able to between the interrogations and the hospital visits; he’s always followed closely by ANBU guards when he goes outside of the village, and if she pays attention, Rin could feel their signature hidden in the trees around them. They spent a lot of time sitting on the grass, soaking in the sun. Obito doesn’t like being inside much. Or enclosed spaces. Or the darkness. It’s all understandable really.
She holds his hand and he holds hers. After the first few times, she makes sure to sit on his left, to hold the hand that still has all its nerve endings; it’s also the side where Obito still has most of his hearing. Even when she touches the side of his body that is still human flesh, she could feel the change, the writhing branches and elemental chakra of the mokuton right under his skin. She knows he can feel the same with her, the Sanbi’s chakra is so massive she knows it could be felt even without being a sensor type.
It goes without saying; it passes through them without a word. They both feel trapped, by their condition, by the village and what it has made them into.
“He smells different now,” Kakashi says quietly, ripping handfuls of grass from where she is sitting close to him. Rin looks at him, brows furrowed, a silent question she is sure can be seen on her face. He only meets her gaze for a second before turning his attention back to the ground, his knees held close to his chest.
“Obito has always smelled like campfire smoke to me. And cinnamon. Now it’s…” He trails off. Kakashi rarely took off his mask, even with only his team around, since his father died. Now, Rin thinks, she thinks it might have something to do with more than just the uncanny resemblance he had with Sakumo. “Now it’s like a forest fire. It’s overwhelming. He smells angry too, and scared. I don’t like it.”
That, she didn’t need the Hatake’s fine nose to know. He tried his best to control his outbursts but Obito was scared and angry. Rin nods then move to sit closer to the younger boy. She offers him her hand; to her surprise, he takes it.
“We’ll figure something out. We always do.” She says, and she doesn’t know who she’s trying to convince more; Kakashi or herself.
She’s grateful when Kushina stays overnight with her at the camp, so she can pull her in her lap and pet her hair when she wakes up sweating, her heart racing from a nightmare she doesn’t remember. In those moments, her body hurts as if it’s too big for her skin; the seal burning on her stomach, her bones feeling about to break. Kushina whispers soft words of reassurance above her, riding the wave of pain with her. She had told Rin the first few months were incredibly harsh on the body as it adapted itself to the foreign chakra molding it from the inside; it was even more so difficult on the body if the process of sealing had been traumatic in some way. More often than not, Kushina had told her, it was. Even when she had been prepared to become the Kyubi's jinchuuriki, she’d had to endure weeks of pain and night sweats. The discomfort will ease with time, she tells Rin every night. She’s strong, just as much as she herself had been at fourteen. Every night without fail, with Kushina’s warmth enveloping her, Rin falls back to sleep for a few hours, before repeating the process again, and again.
If she had ever known her birth family, Rin thinks she might have liked to have a big sister like her.
Its name is Isobu, and it takes the form of an enormous sea turtle.
She comes face to face, finally, with the beast sealed inside her. She’s dreaming, she knows that, but it’s a deeper state of slumber, somewhere on a plane where her mind and its consciousness meet. The space is underwater, and there is no up or down; everything above and under her is only deep, dark stretches of water and in front of her, Isobu. Its big yellow eyes stare her down and she doesn’t feel afraid, even if she knows she should.
Isobu is angry. It doesn’t tell her, but she knows because its energy is also hers; it’s angry to have been captured by humans and reduced to a weapon by humans and then sealed inside a human girl to make her a weapon.
She doesn’t know how she could make it hear her underwater, but then again, this is inside her head. Anything could happen. So she pushes out her emotions to the tailed beast, to this creature who is now a part of her.
I know you’re angry. I’m angry too, and I’m scared, and I don’t want to be a weapon. I know this isn’t what you want. It’s not what I wanted either.
To her surprise, it responds, not a voice but a knowledge in her head. I would survive your death if I were to escape, Nohara Rin.
“I know,” she tries saying out loud, bubbles of air escaping her mouth. She doesn’t know what else to say; she could plead for her life, try to bargain with Isobu, but what could she possibly offer? What weight does she hold against a being this strong and this old?
Then, as if it heard her internal quarrel, the turtle speaks again, of that strange unspoken voice.
I know. I will have a truce with you, and you only.
She wakes up to see Kushina asleep on the opposite side of the tent, curled in on herself, not unlike a fox would. Her head is spinning; she barely has the time to roll from her thin mattress as she throws up bile and salt water.
The day after, Kushina spends hours examining the seal, scanning her chakra and every part of her body; Rin feels as if something clicked in place, her body finally learning to mold around the presence inside it. It’s not perfect, far from it. But it’s the start of something, and she feels Isobu awake now; it’s awake but tranquil.
“I don’t understand, the seal seemed to have stabilized overnight,” the redhead mutters, the crease between her brows only deepening with every wave of chakra she sends. “Did you talk to it?”
Rin nods. “I think we have a truce for now.”
Kushina smiles as she gathers her supplies; for the first time in weeks, she sees a sliver of hope in Rin returning inside the village safely.
“There are still some kinks to work out, but I think soon the seal will be strong enough for you to come home!” She says, bright as ever. Kushina pulls her into a tight hug, and Rin returns it; she allows herself to hope.
The hope doesn’t last.
What Kiri did cannot be undone in more ways than one; the seal is stable in the way that it will not kill her, and that she can draw on the Sanbi’s chakra almost freely as she continues to build its trust in her. But it’s not stable in a way that it won’t break when she returns to Konoha, the trigger so intricate in the seal that it’s impossible to undo without completely extracting the tailed beast, which would inevitably kill her.
“We don’t know if you’ll ever be able to go home. The seal is impossible to correct, even for me.” Kushina tells her. She’s holding her hands impossibly tight, and Rin wants to scream and trash and destroy something. She knows it’s not Kushina’s fault, but in that instant, she wishes she could hold someone responsible for what was done to her; what made it so she can’t ever, ever, go home.