Saint Naruto (CH 4) (Patreon)

A/N: This story is rated M for mature content not suitable for children.

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Chapter 4: Iron and Thunder

One Piece Universe

The bells of Mariejois did not ring for the servants, nor did they ring for the slaves. They rang at five in the morning to mark the shift change for the Holy Guard patrolling the high white walls of the Red Line.

When the first heavy iron toll echoed across the marble courtyard of the Aurelius estate, Kuina was already awake.

She lay on a low pallet in the side room off the main training pavilion, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. Her entire body felt like it had been beaten with wooden clubs. Her ribs were dark purple where Naruto had slammed her into the stone pillar the afternoon before, her palms were cracked and stiff with dried blood, and her throat felt as if she had swallowed a handful of coarse sand.

She rolled onto her side, wincing as her bruised back muscles protested, and sat up.

Sitting on the low stool beside her bed was a folded set of dark leather combat clothes, a sleeveless high-collared vest, fitted trousers reinforced with iron plates over the thighs, and high leather boots with thick steel soles. Resting on top of the clothes were four heavy iron straps fitted with heavy lead blocks.

Fifty pounds of static weight.

Kuina didn't hesitate. She threw off the linen blanket, stripped out of the silk robe from the night before, and pulled the combat leather over her skin. The material was stiff, rubbing against her raw cuts, but it fit her frame tightly without restricting her shoulders.

She picked up the first iron strap, pulling it around her left thigh and buckling it tight. The lead weight pulled hard against her bruised muscles, making her leg tremble. She buckled the second strap to her right thigh, then secured the remaining two around her waist and upper chest.

When she stood up, the extra weight settled onto her frame like a solid rock. Her knees buckled slightly, but she gritted her teeth, dug her heels into the floor, and forced herself upright.

She took one heavy, metallic step toward the wooden door. Then another.

The morning air outside was freezing, thick with gray cloud mist rolling off the Red Line cliffs.

Naruto was standing in the center of the volcanic stone arena. He wore a simple black sleeveless shirt, his golden hair messily spiked, resting his hands in his pockets as he watched her drag her feet across the threshold.

Beside him on the stone sat a three-foot-long bar of cast iron, four inches thick, with a rough leather wrap around one end. It didn't have an edge. It didn't have a point. It was nothing more than a hundred-pound ingot of raw metal shaped like a sword.

"Five minutes late," Naruto said, his voice cutting through the fog without a trace of fatigue.

Kuina stopped five feet from him, her chest heaving as she fought to keep her balance under the weights. "The straps... took time."

"I don't care about your excuses," Naruto replied flatly. "In a real fight, the man trying to cut your head off won't give you five minutes to fix your boots."

He gestured toward the wide stone road running around the outer perimeter of the Aurelius estate, a three-mile loop of rough granite paving stones winding along the absolute edge of the six-thousand-meter cliffside.

"Ten laps," Naruto commanded. "Thirty miles. You have three hours. If you drop off the edge, don't bother screaming, because nobody is coming down to fish your corpse out of the ocean."

Kuina looked at the narrow stone road. The fog was so thick she couldn't see twenty feet ahead, and the icy wind howling up from the lower seas threatened to knock a full-grown man off his feet.

She didn't argue. She turned her body, lifted her right leg, which felt like it weighed a hundred pounds under the lead straps, and slammed her boot down onto the granite road.

"Move," Naruto spat.

Kuina ran.

The first lap was pure agony. Every step slammed fifty extra pounds of force straight into her bruised heels, sending sharp shocks of pain up her shins and into her hips. Her lungs burned as she pulled in the thin, freezing mountain air, her throat raw and dry.

By the third lap, the fog began to clear under the rising sun, exposing the endless drop to her right. One wrong step, one misjudged shift of weight on the slick granite stones, and she would plunge six thousand meters to the rocks below.

Her legs turned to numb blocks of wood. She couldn't feel her toes inside her boots. Sweat ran into her eyes, stinging like fire, but every time her pace slowed, she heard the crackle of electricity behind her.

Naruto didn't run with her. He walked casually along the high inner wall of the estate, moving with effortless grace, watching her struggle through a small looking glass.

"Your form is falling apart," Naruto's voice echoed across the open courtyard, amplified by a small pulse of his Raijin power. "You're dragging your left heel. You're leaning forward because your core is weak. If a swordsman catches you balance-heavy like that, he'll sever your spine before you can raise a guard."

Kuina ground her teeth together until her jaw throbbed, forcing her back straight, slamming her boots down harder against the stone.

Laps four. Five. Six.

On the eighth lap, her right knee gave out.

The joint locked up with a sharp, sickening pop, and the weight on her chest drove her straight onto the rough granite. Her hands scraped across the sharp stone, tearing the fresh scabs off her palms, blood smearing across the white rock. She lay there, her face pressed against the icy stone, her chest rising and falling in violent, desperate gasps.

Just stay down, a voice in the back of her head whispered, the quiet, insidious voice of her father from the dojo in Shimotsuki Village. You're a girl, Kuina. Your body can't take this kind of heavy load. A woman's frame isn't built for raw iron and blood. Accept it.

"Get up," Naruto's cold voice cut through her head.

He stood on the wall twenty feet above her, looking down with complete indifference.

"Is this where the great Shimotsuki line ends?" Naruto sneered. "Face down in the dirt on a public road? Your father was right about you. You're just a frail little girl who broke the second real iron was put on her back."

My father...

A white-hot wave of pure malice surged from the bottom of Kuina's stomach, drowning out the pain in her knee.

She didn't hate Naruto in that moment. She hated Koushirou. She hated the quiet dojo, she hated the wooden stairs, and she hated the lie that had erased her name from the world.

"Shut... up..." Kuina growled into the dirt.

She dug her bloody fingers into the cracks between the granite paving stones. Her arms shook like leaf stems in a storm, but she pushed her chest off the ground. She dragged her left leg forward, planted her heel, and forced her body back onto its feet.

Her vision was swimming in black spots, but she locked her eyes on the road ahead.

She didn't run. She marched. One heavy, agonizing step at a time, dragging fifty pounds of iron through her own blood, until she crossed the entry line of the training pavilion for the tenth time.

She collapsed the second her boots hit the stone, hitting her knees with a heavy metallic thud.

Naruto stepped down from the wall, landing silently on the stone three feet in front of her.

He didn't offer her water. He didn't offer her a seat.

He reached down, picked up the hundred-pound iron bar by its leather wrap, and threw it down right between her knees.

"Five thousand vertical swings," Naruto said, his voice flat. "If you drop the bar before the count is finished, you start over from one."

Kuina looked at the thick iron bar. Her arms felt like wet paper. Her hands were bleeding so badly that red drops were dripping off her fingertips onto the volcanic tile.

"I... can't hold it..." she rasped, her throat bleeding from the dry air.

"Then die," Naruto said, turning his back on her and walking toward a shaded marble bench at the edge of the arena. "If your grip is too weak to hold iron, you're useless to me. I'll have Vane throw you off the cliff right now and save myself the headache."

Kuina stared at the back of his coat.

She reached down with both hands, wrapping her torn palms around the rough leather grip of the iron bar.

The cold metal bit into her open cuts, sending a jolt of white-hot agony straight up her forearms. She gritted her teeth, let out a ragged, guttural scream from the bottom of her lungs, and heaved the hundred-pound bar off the stone.

ONE.

She raised the heavy iron over her head, her back muscles screaming, and brought it down in a violent, vertical chop.

TWO.

The weight nearly pulled her forward onto her face, but she locked her core and ripped it back up into the air.

THREE.

FOUR.

Naruto sat on the shaded bench, sipping a cup of warm tea served by a kneeling butler, his eyes casually tracking her movements.

To an ordinary observer, it was torture. It was pointlessly cruel exercise designed to break a young girl's body until her joints tore apart.

But Naruto knew better. He had spent a past life watching ninja train until their muscles dissolved, pushing past human limits through sheer stubborn stupidity. But ninja relied on chakra, a cheap, crutch-like fuel that artificially repaired tissue and sustained energy.

Out here, in the Grand Line, real monsters didn't have chakra. They built their strength by driving their physical bodies into absolute ruin, forcing their bones to grow back denser, forcing their blood to carry more oxygen, and tempering their spirits until their raw willpower bled out of their skin as Haki.

If Kuina couldn't survive this, she would never awaken Armament Haki. She would just be another girl with a sword, ready to be crushed by the first Logia or Zoan user she met in the New World.

One thousand.

Two thousand.

By three thousand swings, Kuina wasn't making noise anymore. Her breath came in quiet, whistling gasps. Her vision had narrowed to a tiny circle of light centered on the iron bar in her hands. She couldn't feel her shoulders. She couldn't feel her legs. Her body was moving entirely on muscle memory and raw, ugly spite.

Four thousand.

Four thousand five hundred.

Her hands were slick with her own blood, the leather wrap soaked dark red. On swing four thousand eight hundred, the bar slipped from her right palm.

She caught it with her left wrist, the iron bar swinging wildly and slamming into her collarbone with a dull THACK.

She stumbled backward, her knees giving out, crashing onto her back on the volcanic stone. The heavy iron bar fell across her stomach, pinning her to the floor.

She lay there, staring up at the bright blue sky, her chest heaving violently under the iron bar. She couldn't move her arms. Her fingers were locked in tight, claw-like cramps that refused to open.

A shadow fell over her face.

Naruto stood over her, looking down with his blue eyes cold and unreadable.

"Four thousand eight hundred," Naruto said softly. "You failed."

Kuina’s lips trembled. Tears of sheer, overwhelming frustration mixed with the dried sweat on her cheeks. "I... I swung it..."

"You dropped it," Naruto corrected her, stepping forward and placing the toe of his leather boot on the iron bar lying across her chest. He applied a tiny fraction of weight, pressing the heavy metal down into her bruised ribs. "In a duel, dropping your weapon at the four thousandth strike means your head is rolling in the dirt. Start over."

"I can't..." Kuina wept, a quiet, broken sob tearing out of her throat. "I can't lift it again... my arms are broken..."

Naruto leaned down, grabbing her by the front of her leather vest with one hand, and yanked her entire body up off the floor until her face was inches from his.

"Look at me," Naruto commanded, his voice dropping into a low, terrifying growl.

Kuina opened her eyes, her blurred vision fixing on his golden hair and glowing blue eyes.

"You told me you wanted to cut your father's lie in half," Naruto said, his thumb pressing hard against her blood-stained cheekbone. "You told me you were going to grow strong enough to cut my thunder. Was that all just mouth-garbage? Are you just another weak East Blue dog who barks loud until the iron gets heavy?"

"No..." she rasped.

"Then lift the bar," Naruto spat, dropping her back onto the stone. "Or I will break your legs right now, throw you in a sack, and ship you back to your father with a note telling him his daughter is a failure who will die crying on her knees."

The thought of being sent back to Shimotsuki Village, being handed back to her father as a broken, pitied failure, was worse than death. It was worse than hell.

Kuina let out a high, ragged shriek.

She didn't use her hands. She hooked her bleeding elbows under the iron bar, dug her steel-shod heels into the volcanic tile, and rolled her entire body sideways, heaving the hundred-pound metal bar back off her chest.

She dragged herself up onto her knees, grabbed the soaked leather wrap with both cramping hands, and swung the iron up into the sky.

FOUR THOUSAND EIGHT HUNDRED ONE.

FOUR THOUSAND EIGHT HUNDRED TWO.

Naruto stood three feet away, watching as she drove herself past the absolute limit of human endurance.

FOUR THOUSAND NINE HUNDRED NINETY-NINE.

With a final, desperate roar that tore the last bit of skin in her throat, Kuina brought the iron bar down with both hands, slamming it into the volcanic stone floor with enough raw force to crack the tile beneath it.

FIVE THOUSAND.

The iron bar fell from her hands, rolling away across the arena.

Kuina pitched forward, her forehead slamming against the stone right at Naruto's boots, her body completely motionless as unconsciousness finally claimed her.

Naruto looked down at her still form.

Her back was bleeding through her leather vest, her hands were shredded, and her breathing was dangerously thin. But as he looked at her bruised skin, he saw a tiny, unmistakable flicker of dark, static-like tension lingering around the tips of her bloody fingers.

The very first seed of Armament Haki.

A slow, genuine smile spread across Naruto's face.

He bent down, hooked his arm under her waist, and lifted her limp, blood-soaked body effortlessly into his arms.

"Not bad, swordswoman," Naruto whispered into the mountain wind. "Not bad at all."

Late that evening, the heavy velvet drapes inside Naruto's private bedchambers were drawn tight against the cold mountain night.

A large bronze brazier burned in the corner, casting warm, flickering orange light across the massive canopy bed, the silk tapestries, and the polished hardwood floors. The rich scent of cedar smoke and medicinal healing ointments filled the warm room.

Kuina lay on her stomach on the wide leather table in the center of the room.

Her leather combat gear had been removed, leaving her wearing only a simple white linen wrap around her hips and chest. Her back, arms, and legs were covered in a thick layer of green cooling salve, wrapped neatly in clean white linen bandages.

She was conscious, but her body was completely paralyzed with deep, aching exhaustion. Every breath she pulled into her lungs made her ribs throb, but the burning fever that had threatened to consume her earlier had subsided under the medicine.

Naruto sat on a low stool beside the table. He wore a simple black robe, his long legs crossed, a heavy leather-bound book resting in his lap.

On the small table beside him sat a silver tray holding two bowls, one filled with a thick, high-calorie meat broth, the other with clean, cold spring water.

Kuina turned her head slowly on the leather pillow, her dark eyes tracking his movements.

"Why... am I here?" she asked, her voice a rough whisper. "Where are... the servants?"

Naruto didn't look up from his book. "The servants don't know how to treat muscle tears caused by heavy iron conditioning. If they applied the wrong salve, your arms would lock up permanently."

Kuina stared at him, her brow furrowing slightly. "You... wrapped these?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Naruto said, his tone cold and practical. "I don't care about your comfort. But a broken blade is useless to me. If your hands heal crookedly, you won't be able to hold a sword properly, and I'll have wasted a billion berries."

He set the book down on the small table, picked up the bowl of warm meat broth and a silver spoon, and turned his chair to face her.

"Sit up," Naruto commanded.

Kuina tried to push herself up, but the moment she put weight on her elbows, a sharp jolt of pain shot through her shoulders, and her arms collapsed beneath her. She let out a small, frustrated hiss, her forehead hitting the pillow.

Naruto didn't mock her. He reached out, placed his hand behind her neck, and easily lifted her upper body, propping her back against a stack of heavy velvet pillows at the head of the table.

His hand was warm against her bare skin, his thumb brushing against her collarbone as he adjusted the pillows.

Kuina’s face flushed slightly, a strange, suffocating heat rising in her chest that had nothing to do with her fever. She tried to pull back, but her body simply refused to obey her commands.

"Hold still," Naruto said flatly.

He dipped the silver spoon into the rich broth, brought it to her lips, and waited.

Kuina stared at the spoon, then looked up into his cold blue eyes.

Every instinct of her proud, stubborn mind screamed at her that this was embarrassing. A swordswoman of the Shimotsuki clan being fed like an invalid baby by a World Noble.

"I can... feed myself..." she muttered, trying to lift her right hand. Her fingers twitched, but her arm remained glued to the leather table.

"You can't even lift a feather right now," Naruto said, his voice dropping into a low, uncompromising tone. "Open your mouth, Kuina. Don't make me force it down your throat."

Kuina glared at him for three long seconds, but the rich, savory smell of the broth was too much for her starving body to resist. She opened her mouth, letting him slide the silver spoon past her lips.

The warm, rich liquid hit her tongue, flooding her senses with energy. She swallowed hungrily, her throat soothing instantly under the heat.

Naruto fed her slowly, spoon by spoon, his movements methodical and precise. He didn't speak, and he didn't rush her.

As the bowl emptied, the tension between them in the quiet, firelit room grew thick and heavy.

Kuina kept her eyes fixed on his face. Sitting this close to him, without his heavy coat or his electric cloud ring, she could see the fine details of his skin, the sharp angle of his jaw, the faint blue static pulsing beneath his translucent veins, and the absolute, unwavering confidence in his gaze.

He wasn't like her father. Koushirou was always gentle, always quiet, always offering soft words while secretly believing she was limited by her gender.

Naruto was cruel. He was ruthless. He drove her until she bled and collapsed in her own sweat.

But he didn't look down on her because she was a girl. He didn't treat her like she was fragile. He threw a hundred-pound bar of iron at her feet, told her to lift it or die, and watched her push past her limits with a cold, terrifying respect.

He didn't want her to be safe. He wanted her to be lethal.

"Why Raijin?" Kuina asked suddenly, breaking the long silence as he set the empty bowl back on the silver tray.

Naruto looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"Your fruit," Kuina said, her voice growing stronger as the warm food settled in her stomach. "The lightning. Why did you choose that power?"

Naruto picked up a damp linen cloth from the tray and gently wiped a drop of broth from her chin. His touch was firm, his fingers lingering against her lower lip for a fraction of a second before pulling back.

"I didn't choose it," Naruto said softly, looking at his own right hand as blue sparks danced across his knuckles. "Power isn't something you choose. It's something you claim because you're strong enough to hold it."

He looked back up at her, his eyes cold as glacial ice.

"In my old life, I thought power was something you shared. I thought if you bled enough for other people, they would love you. I thought self-sacrifice was noble."

He let out a short, dark laugh that sent a shiver down Kuina's spine, she was also confused by what he meant by his old life.

"It was a lie," Naruto continued, leaning in slightly, resting his hand on the leather table beside her hip. "The weak don't love the strong. They use them. They stand behind them, crying for protection, and the second the strong man falls, they walk over his corpse without a second thought."

Kuina listened, her dark eyes wide. She thought of her father. She thought of Shimotsuki Village, how everyone had smiled at her in the dojo, but the moment the World Noble slavers arrived, nobody stood up. Nobody raised a sword. They accepted her father's lie about the stairs and went back to their quiet, peaceful lives as if she had never existed.

"Your father did the same thing to you," Naruto whispered, his face inches from hers. "He chose quiet mediocrity over standing against the world. He let you be dragged off in chains because he was too weak to carry the weight of real conflict."

"I know..." Kuina whispered, her voice trembling with raw, unexpressed emotion.

"You don't need a father anymore, Kuina," Naruto said, his thumb reaching out and gently tracing the dark line of her jawline, sliding down to the warm skin of her throat. "And you don't need a village. You belong to House Aurelius now. You belong to me."

Kuina’s breath hitched in her throat.

His fingers were hot against her throat, the subtle electrical pulse of his fruit sending a deep, shivering jolt straight through her core. Her heart hammered against her ribs, her blood rushing hot beneath her skin.

She knew what this was. She knew that by staying in this room, by accepting his food, his medicine, and his touch, she was giving up the last remnants of her old life. She was no longer Kuina of the East Blue.

She was his weapon. His pet. His submissive blade.

And yet, as she looked into his cold, brilliant blue eyes, she didn't feel shame. She felt a dark, intoxicating rush of power, the realization that by standing beside this monster, she would reach heights her father couldn't even dream of.

"Say it," Naruto commanded softly, his hand tightening slightly over her throat, holding her gaze. "Tell me who you belong to."

Kuina stared into his eyes, her chest rising and falling against the white linen wraps, her fierce dark eyes burning with absolute, uncompromising submission.

"I belong to you," Kuina whispered, her voice steady and clear in the quiet room. "Saint Naruto."

Naruto’s dark smirk returned, sharp, triumphant, and absolute.

He reached down and pat her head like if she was a dog.

Kuina closed her eyes, her weak, bruised hands twitching against the leather table, finally surrendering her pride.

Chapter End

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A/N: I appreciate everyone's support. See you later!