Devil Fruit users had a major weakness—they feared seawater and seastone. Though this world had no such thing as seastone, being afraid of water was troublesome enough.
Thinking about this, Shigure decided to test it out for himself.
After returning home, he brought out a wooden tub—his usual, simple bathing tool. It wasn't anything fancy. Being an outsider, it was already generous of Konoha to give him a place to stay. His room and furniture were bare-bones, but Shigure didn't mind.
He filled the tub with water, stripped off his clothes, and jumped in. He crouched down, letting the water soak his entire body.
In the original work, even if it wasn't seawater, Devil Fruit users would still feel pain and weakness throughout their bodies when submerged.
One second… two seconds…
A whole minute passed—and nothing. No pain, no weakness. Nothing at all.
Shigure suddenly stood up, his face stunned.
"Just regular water… no side effects at all?"
He was surprised, but mostly puzzled.
Was it because it wasn't seawater?
Or maybe… the curse?
Devil Fruit users were said to be cursed by the sea, forever land-bound. But that curse came from the world of One Piece.
This… was the world of Naruto.
No one knew how the Devil Fruit got here, but there was no oceanic curse in this world. So even if there was a weakness to water, it likely only applied to the seas of the One Piece universe.
Which meant… the Gura Gura no Mi's power shouldn't be considered a "Devil Fruit" in this world.
It was more like… a Kekkei Genkai unleashed.
"That's… great."
He allowed a small smile to creep onto his face.
Feeling relieved, Shigure decided to actually take a proper bath. After all the sweat from training, and the emotional chaos of the day, he needed to relax and calm himself down.
Just as he was getting out of the tub and reaching for his clothes—
Creak!
The door to his house swung open softly.
A small head with red hair peeked in.
It was someone all too familiar—Uzumaki Kushina.
"Shigure, are you ho—eh?!"
Her voice cut off immediately.
Eight or nine-year-old Kushina froze in place, her face turning stone cold.
"Uh…"
Shigure blinked in surprise.
He had only meant to test the water—he hadn't locked the door.
But that wasn't the problem.
It was dark outside. He never expected Kushina to show up at his house out of nowhere!
"WAAAA—!"
She finally reacted, screamed, and slammed the door shut so hard it rattled the frame.
"Shigure, you pervert! Bastard! Remember this! You're dead if you don't show up at school tomorrow!"
Her flustered, furious voice echoed from beyond the door, loud enough to wake the entire street.
Shigure stood there, dumbfounded.
Seriously?
This had nothing to do with you!
And do you really have to scream in the middle of the night like that?!
"…Guess I'm really going to die if I skip school tomorrow."
He winced, quickly dressed, and opened the door.
Sure enough, Kushina was still standing outside, red-faced with a mix of fury and embarrassment.
"Um… hey. What are you doing here?"
He let out an awkward cough and tried to change the subject.
Coming to his place this late—it had to be something important.
Both Shigure and Kushina were originally from other villages. They had arrived in Konoha around the same time. Once Shigure figured out she was that Uzumaki Kushina from the original story, a natural affection made him seek her out, and they quickly became close friends.
But their treatment by the village was very different.
Kushina came to Konoha as the next potential Nine-Tails Jinchuriki. She was from the Uzumaki Clan, allies of Konoha. The previous Nine-Tails host, Uzumaki Mito, had been the wife of the First Hokage, Hashirama Senju.
As an Uzumaki herself, Mito treated Kushina kindly. Their connection was so close that Kushina even had the nerve to burn off the Third Hokage's beard once!
Shigure, on the other hand… wasn't so lucky. He had no background, no name. He came from a minor ninja village no one trusted. Even though his village had long since been destroyed, the Konoha ninjas still viewed him with suspicion and dislike.
When Kushina first arrived, she had no parents and no support. Shigure took care of her, helped her, stayed by her side.
But as time passed, their roles reversed.
Now, it was Kushina who looked out for him.
Even so, she never turned her back on him.
Because in those lonely first days, it was Shigure who had pulled her out of the darkness, warmed her cold heart, and made her smile again.
No matter what others said—that he was a loser who couldn't even use ninjutsu—Kushina never looked down on him.
"…I was worried you'd get beaten half to death tomorrow, so I brought you something."
Her face was still tinged red, and she looked annoyed as she shoved a small pouch into his hands.
Hearing her words, Shigure suddenly remembered—tomorrow was the practical combat exam at the Ninja Academy.
Usually, a one-on-one sparring test wasn't anything serious. With a Chunin teacher supervising, students rarely got hurt too badly.
But Shigure was different.
His teacher couldn't stand him—a kid from another village. As long as he didn't die, they didn't care. He often ended up bloody.
"…Thanks."
He scratched his nose, a little embarrassed, and peeked into the pouch.
Sure enough, it was filled with healing ointments and bandages.
His heart warmed with gratitude… but the corner of his mouth twitched.
Why did this still feel so weird?
"W-Who said I cared about you?! I just didn't want to see you get hurt, that's all!"
Kushina was still flustered, her little face pink, pouting at him.
Seeing her like that, Shigure couldn't help but chuckle.
Though a strange thought crossed his mind—if their roles were reversed, and he had seen her naked, she'd probably be chasing him through the entire Hidden Leaf by now.
"Anyway! That's that! Even if you can't use ninjutsu, I'll always protect you. So if you can't win tomorrow, don't try to be a hero—just surrender."
She raised her tiny fist proudly, turned around, and ran off into the night, her giggles fading into the darkness.
"…"
Shigure stared blankly after her.
Surrender? Always protect me?
The hell?
Wasn't that basically saying: You be the pretty boy—I'll handle the fighting?
Damn it.
Was he really being groomed to be a gigolo?!