(THAT’S NOT A PET, TAYLOR) INTERLUDE

The Rasengan was just above her palm, a powerful, spiraling sphere of rotating chakra that spun with vibrant blue light. Its glow was strong enough to push back the shadows that clung to the corners of her small bedroom, and the noise it made was enough to make her thankful her dad was a deep sleeper. 

Taylor could feel the rotation in her bones, the pressure of it tugging at her skin and muscles with every pass of its spiraling force. Sweat collected at her brow and slid slowly down her temple, aided by the uneven rise and fall of her chest, yet she dared not look away. 

Kurama had told her that the Rasengan represented the pinnacle of shape transformation. It was a technique perfected through a mastery of control, force, and sheer skill, able to match most of the techniques from his world, some of which had been created by shinobi who devoted their lives to their craft. It had been the favored technique of his previous two hosts, one of whom was the strongest kage in history. And now, standing barefoot on her bedroom floor with the scent of sweat thick in the air, it belonged to her.

A strange mix of emotions swelled in her chest. For a second she felt the urge to laugh out of sheer exhilaration, or cry due to how difficult this had been, or simply collapse from her bone-deep exhaustion. But she kept herself standing, and her eyes open. She wanted to savor this moment. She wanted it burned into her memory, to remember the exact sensation of achieving something as monumental as this.

After all, no shadow clone had helped her. She had insisted on doing it alone, driven partly by stubbornness and partly by a need to prove—to herself more than anyone—that she could be better than Naruto. So even though it had taken more time and far more effort, through persistence, shaking fingers, and countless hours of trial and error, she had succeeded.

And the result was beautiful.

Well done, kid, Kurama said. 

For a moment, Taylor could not bring herself to answer. Instead, the Rasengan slowly unraveled as she let the technique dissipate, the swirling light fading into motes of residual chakra that drifted away like fireflies before winking out. The tingling sensation in her palm lingered, a reminder of the power she had just held, but she welcomed the sensation.

Then, her body finally sagged as the tension left her body. She let the back of her head come to rest against the edge of her bed, drawing in calming breaths, and closing her eyes. Her shirt clung to her skin, soaked by sweat, and her arms trembled from strain, but none of it dulled the triumph blooming inside her.

Her gaze lowered to her abdomen, to the place where the seal lay hidden beneath the fabric of her clothes. She rested her fingers lightly over it, tracing the area through the cloth in a gentle, almost reverent motion. Kurama answered with a wave of emotion that washed over her, a silent surge of pride and approval that warmed her from the inside.

She had truly done it.

A smile spread slowly across her face, small at first, then widening as the realization settled fully into her heart. It warmed her expression until she felt as though her entire body had brightened from within, as though the shadows of the night couldn’t touch her for once.

If anyone had stepped into the room at that moment, if they had seen her, they would have sworn the sun itself had chosen to rise early, first in her eyes, and then in her smile.