Chapter 170: Kaguya and Yoya
In an elegantly warm room, Kaguya wore a cream-colored casual knit sweater, lazily leaning against the soft sofa.
She held Yoya in her arms. Mother and daughter were focused on watching the human ethics drama playing on screen.
Kaguya had been living in Konoha for some time now.
After her long slumber, Kaguya discovered she'd long since become out of touch with this era.
What surprised her even more—after witnessing Uchiha Yu's power and Nagato's Rinnegan, she no longer viewed humans as fragile inferior beings. This race indeed contained anomalies she had to acknowledge.
Watching the joys and sorrows on television, fluctuation appeared in Kaguya's cool eyes. These seemingly ordinary emotional entanglements actually stirred ripples across her heart lake, dormant for a thousand years.
Yoya obediently nestled in Mother's embrace, small hands kneading Kaguya's soft hem.
Since unsealing, Mother hadn't planned any earth-shattering schemes as she'd anticipated but instead often accompanied those Konoha girls in their activities. Those trivial missions Yoya considered worthless—Kaguya always completed them patiently.
What surprised Yoya most was that Mother seemed to be slowly changing.
Though most of the time she still gazed absent-mindedly at the horizon as though reminiscing about distant pasts, occasionally she'd immerse herself in human film and television works like now.
Sometimes, inspired by characters in dramas, she'd even change from that iconic Otsutsuki clan robe to try various casual outfits.
Today's cream knit sweater made her shed some divine aloofness, gaining more mortal warmth. Yoya raised her head to gaze at Mother's softened profile, warmth welling in her heart.
Whether as Black Zetsu in the past or appearing as a little girl now, she always placed Kaguya first in her heart. Watching Mother's rare relaxed expression, Yoya couldn't help nuzzling like an affectionate kitten in Kaguya's embrace.
"What's wrong?" Kaguya looked down at her, fingertips gently combing through her daughter's hair.
"Nothing." Yoya buried her face in Mother's warm embrace.
After a while longer, Yoya raised her small face, asking in a soft, sweet voice, "Mother, what should we do in the future?"
Kaguya's gaze slowly shifted from the television screen, eyes somewhat unfocused. "The future..." She murmured lowly.
Honestly, she herself hadn't yet figured out the future path.
The previously most worrying threat from the Otsutsuki main family—after witnessing Uchiha Yu's displayed power, it no longer felt so anxiety-inducing. The potential contained in that young man felt unfathomable even to her.
Recalling events from a thousand years ago, Kaguya couldn't help spacing out slightly.
She'd never been one to covet power. Her ambush on Isshiki back then was merely for self-preservation. Even after obtaining the God Tree fruit's power, her first thought was creating Hagoromo and Hamura—though ultimately sealed by her children, deep in her heart they remained her important children.
Through that descendant on the moon named Toneri, she'd learned the moon's explosion resulted from combat between someone matching Uchiha Yu's strength.
This news shocked her while completely changing her perception.
So on this planet, existences as powerful as Uchiha Yu perhaps weren't unique cases. Moreover, other powerhouses might not all be as... peaceful as him.
Thinking this, Kaguya suddenly felt the burden on her shoulders lighten considerably.
Since this planet had numerous powerful beings, when the sky fell, naturally taller people would hold it up. She was no longer invincible on this planet—instead, she could peacefully live the life she wanted.
Now with Yoya accompanying her daily, occasionally doing inconsequential missions with those Konoha girls, watching human-produced dramas—such days brought her unprecedented comfort.
"I don't know either." Kaguya gently stroked Yoya's head, tone calm yet honest.
Hearing this, Yoya froze slightly, yet seeing Mother's serious expression, she understood these were genuine words.
Kaguya truly had no clear plans for the future and seemed quite satisfied with this peaceful life.
She tilted her small head, small hand lightly tugging Kaguya's hem before asking again, "Is Mother happy now?"
This question made Kaguya think for a while, since no one had ever asked her such a question. She lowered her head, gazing into her daughter's pure pupils.
Once upon a time, she'd stood alone on desolate earth. Back then she'd possessed supreme power yet couldn't sense a trace of warmth. Kaguya felt lonely. Loneliness made her create Hagoromo and Hamura.
Yet now, her small daughter's soft touch in her arms felt so real, breathing carrying sweet milky fragrance. The television played trivial yet vivid human stories.
All of this was incredibly ordinary yet gradually revived her heart, frozen for a thousand years.
"Yes." She nodded lightly.
Yoya's eyes immediately brightened, as though studded with stars.
For her, Mother's happiness was the greatest blessing.
If Kaguya still wanted to reclaim the glory from a thousand years ago, becoming once more that Chakra Ancestor who looked down on all living beings, she'd be willing to force herself to mature, becoming again that strategizing Black Zetsu, scheming for Mother's grand cause even if it meant opposing that invincible Uchiha Yu.
But if Mother enjoyed this peaceful life more, she'd also be content remaining a naive little girl forever, staying by Mother's side daily.
Yet even so, she'd still quietly handle all daily trivialities—like now, always preparing various snacks for Mother in advance, arranging rooms comfortably and spaciously, selecting the highest-rated dramas for Mother's leisure.
After obtaining her desired answer, Yoya nestled contentedly in Kaguya's embrace, obediently accompanying her to watch those clichéd television dramas.
The screen was currently staging a mother-in-law/daughter-in-law quarrel scene. Kaguya watched with slightly furrowed brows, seemingly unable to comprehend such trivial conflicts.
Yoya raised her head observing Mother's expression, couldn't help explaining the complexity of human family relationships.
Kaguya listened silently, occasionally nodding slightly.
Hadn't similar rifts existed between herself and her two sons a thousand years ago—only back then the conflicts had been far heavier than what television dramas portrayed, ultimately evolving into irreversible tragedy?
Thinking this, Kaguya unconsciously tightened her arms embracing Yoya, hugging her more closely.
Yoya stopped explaining, raising her small face to ask softly, "Mother, what's wrong?"
Kaguya pondered briefly before saying in a low voice, "If Yoya grows up and has any dissatisfaction with me, then speak it."
"I won't!" Yoya hastily turned around, looking at Kaguya and answering, "I'll never be dissatisfied with Mother. Why say such things?"
Kaguya gazed at her daughter's sincere small face, ultimately only shaking her head lightly. "Nothing..."
She redirected her gaze back toward the television screen, yet her look was somewhat scattered.
Yoya obediently stopped pursuing the topic, only quietly slipping her small hand into Mother's palm.
---
"Knock knock."
A knocking sound came.