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🌃 Nightfall in Brooklyn
Night was slowly falling over Brooklyn, drowning the rooftops in a muffled silence.
Inside their apartment, the air was warm. Comfortable. A faint light flickered in the corner of the room, casting overlapping shadows of two silhouettes asleep under a shared blanket.
Naruto opened his eyes first.
He hadn't really slept.
He never truly did, not since leaving Konoha. But that night, he hadn't stayed awake out of caution.
He'd stayed awake… for her.
Natasha was sleeping deeply, her breathing calm, her brow relaxed. A strand of red hair had fallen over her closed eyelids.
Naruto watched her quietly.
Every day spent by her side had been a harder battle than any shinobi mission.
Not against her.
Against himself.
He didn't yet fully understand everything he was feeling.
But he knew it was real.
And it hurt. Softly. Uselessly.
Like a root growing through stone.
She woke up half an hour later.
Her eyes opened slowly, as if she were leaving behind a dream she didn't want to let go of.
— "Watching me again?" she murmured.
Naruto smiled.
— "You sleep weird."
— "I'm a spy."
— "And I'm a ninja."
They shared a knowing look.
Then she sat up.
Naruto noticed a slight tension in her lower abdomen.
A stiff movement. A discreet sigh.
He frowned.
— "Are you in pain?"
She looked away.
— "It's nothing. An old wound. Forget it."
He stayed silent for a moment.
Then said:
— "Can I help you?"
She stared at him.
For a long time.
— "Do you really want to know?"
Naruto nodded.
So she spoke.
— "I can't have children, Naruto. The program that trained me... they took that from me. Surgically. Not just to keep me from being a mother. But to take away the choice."
A heavy silence followed.
Naruto didn't look away.
He didn't judge. He didn't fully understand, but he listened.
She continued:
— "It's not motherhood I miss. It's the right to choose. To have that power within me. Even if I never used it."
Naruto stayed silent.
Then slowly looked down at his hand.
Palm open. Just for a moment.
And from his flesh emerged a translucent green sprout. Alive. Vibrant. Filled with vital chakra.
He whispered, almost to himself:
— "Maybe I can give it back to you."
She stared, frozen.
— "What?"
— "My power... it doesn't just control nature. It heals. It rebuilds. It can regrow a scorched forest… So why not repair what they took from you?"
She stayed still. Breath caught.
— "You think..."
He looked up at her.
— "I don't promise anything. But if you want... I'll try."
And in that suspended moment, something changed.
Not just gratitude. Not just tenderness.
Raw trust.
An open wound. A hand extended.
And Natasha... took it.
It was raining.
Not outside — but in the heart of the room.
In the air. In the silence. In the held breaths.
Natasha sat on the bed, back straight, fists clenched on her thighs.
Naruto knelt before her.
Between them, not a word.
But centuries of pain.
—
— "Are you sure you want to do this?" she murmured.
Naruto looked up.
— "Only if you do."
She stayed silent.
Then slowly nodded.
He asked nothing more.
No questions.
He unfolded his jacket. Removed his forehead protector.
And simply placed his palm on the lower part of her abdomen, over the fabric.
The green chakra awakened — soft, pulsing, silent.
And the past... rose.
Red Room. 1992.
Natasha was 10 years old.
She hadn't cried in a long time.
She'd learned to keep her eyes open even while being hit. To smile during tests. To kill on command.
And one day, they strapped her to a table.
— "Why?" she asked without flinching.
An anonymous doctor smiled.
— "Because women get pregnant. And we can't afford to let our soldiers form attachments."
The scalpel didn't shake.
Neither did she.
But when she woke up… the emptiness was there.
She hadn't fully understood what they took.
Not at first.
Only years later, in darker times, did she start to feel that absence. That silence in her body. That impossibility.
And she had learned never to think about it.
Until now.
— "Do you feel anything?" Naruto asked gently.
The chakra slid under her skin, painless.
Just a strange warmth, deep inside.
— "Like a light. Very far," she murmured.
— "That's you."
She frowned.
— "What?"
— "It's not me healing you. It's your body. I'm just reminding it… of something it was forbidden to believe possible."
Silence.
A single tear slid down her cheek without her noticing.
She didn't wipe it away.
— "I remember everything," she said softly.
— "You don't have to tell me."
— "I want someone to know. Just once."
Naruto didn't answer.
He listened.
—
— "I was trained to kill. Seduce. Betray. I've worn dozens of faces. But never my own."
— "Your real one?"
— "I don't know what it is. Maybe the one you see now. Tired. Fragile."
— "It's beautiful," Naruto murmured.
She chuckled a little.
— "You don't have to flatter me."
— "I'm not flattering. I see."
He continued gently.
His chakra flowed like an ancient balm. Mokuton pulsed faintly under his skin, resonating with his emotions.
[Latent ability activated: targeted cellular stimulation – soft plant-based internal graft.]
Naruto felt something.
Not growth.
But awakening.
A forgotten organ. A bodily memory erased.
And yet...
Present.
He looked up.
— "Your body remembers."
She stared at him.
— "And it can... heal itself?"
— "It already is."
Minutes passed in silence.
Naruto slowly withdrew his hand. He was pale. Drained.
But satisfied.
— "I'll have to do it again. Several times. Slowly."
— "And if it works?" she whispered.
He placed a hand on her cheek.
— "Then the choice you thought you lost… will be yours again."
She closed her eyes.
And for the first time in twenty years…
She felt like she existed.
Not as a weapon.
Not as a spy.
But as a woman