**Uzushiogakure**
The Uzumaki clan was known for their fierce vitality and unmatched stamina. They had an impressive reservoir of chakra and an endurance that allowed them to survive battles that would have brought others to their knees. However, what truly set them apart was their mastery of sealing techniques. For the Uzumaki, fūinjutsu was not just a skill; it was their greatest strength. They could seal monsters, bodies, and even jutsus. They had become living prisons in their own right. Because of this formidable power, the Uzumaki were respected as allies and feared as enemies.
Malenia sat on her knees in the centre of the sealing hall, her eight-year-old form focused intently on the scroll spread before her.
Her scarlet hair was tied back with a simple cord, keeping it from brushing against the ink-stained surface. The ceremonial clothing of her early childhood had long been replaced by plain robes.
Ink smudged her fingers as she traced over a half-completed fuinjutsu array, the text complex and layered. With careful deliberation, she made the next stroke.
Suddenly, the ink splattered more than she intended. She paused, glancing across the table where Elder Shiosuke observed her in silence.
His own red hair, a shade darker than hers, contrasted with the creases of his age, yet he still carried the wisdom of a retired jonin.
He had been teaching sealing techniques for longer than most villages had been in existence, back when the concept of villages was still new after the alliance of the Senju and Uzumaki.
"Do not hesitate," he said calmly. "Fuinjutsu requires practice and precision."
Malenia nodded and resumed her work. As she completed the final line, the array tightened and began to glow ominously, as if it were on the verge of exploding. Just as panic threatened to rise, Elder Shiosuke tapped his fingers against the floor and leaned forward to add a small corrective mark beside hers. Instantly, the seal relaxed, the paper flattening as the pressure evaporated.
"Again," he instructed, as if nothing unusual had happened.
Malenia bowed her head and reached for a fresh scroll, not bothering to question why her seals often misbehaved. She had learned early on that some questions were best left unasked.
Uzushiogakure had begun to re-emerge into the world. A decade ago, the island had been shrouded in silence. But those days were past. Now, trade vessels came and went, and messages bearing Uzumaki seals reached distant lands.
The world was said to have calmed. Or so they claimed.
Malenia was just two when the peace was forged. She didn't remember much—only flashes: a grand hall, an overwhelming crowd of unfamiliar chakras,
one man whose presence felt like a living forest and another whose gaze lingered far too long on her. But the clearest memory was of Mito her elder sister.
Mito Uzumaki had red hair like hers, hands that felt warm and steady, and she carried a scent of ink, smoke, and home. That day, Mito had left Uzushio, marrying Senju Hashirama in a peace treaty meant to bind two great powers.
She was now the sole princess and protector. The weight of that responsibility rested heavily on her small shoulders.
As Elder Shiosuke rolled up the scrolls and rose slowly, he announced, "That is enough for today."
Malenia nodded and stood, following him outside. The village bustled with quiet determination. Uzumaki shinobi moved purposefully through the streets, tools for sealing in hand rather than weapons. Children played in the park.
"Elder," Malenia ventured after a moment, "why do we practice seals meant for battles if there is peace?"
Shiosuke paused, the sea breeze shifting around them as the barriers adjusted almost instinctively.
"Peace," he said slowly, "is not the absence of conflict. It is merely a delay of it."
Malenia considered his words. "Then why am I learning seals, which will only delay the conflict? Can't I directly learn something that will end the conflict directly?
He looked down at her, and though his gaze was careful, "You will understand in future."
He placed a hand lightly on her head—a rare gesture of affection. "You are Uzumaki," he added. "You will realise the true strength of fuinjutsu soon."
They resumed their walk, and behind them, in the sealing hall, a practice scroll lay forgotten, discarded.
That night, as Malenia drifted into sleep, the barriers around the island shifted ever so slightly. Far beyond the sea, in lands that would one day march armies toward Uzushio's gates.
At the centre of it all lay the princess—a young girl who didn't yet understand the nature of war.