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42.76% Free Shinobi in Naruto(With Divine Purple Card) / Chapter 66: Troublesome Seal

Chapter 66: Troublesome Seal

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"Can't you cross over?" Mikoto asked, unable to suppress her curiosity as she looked at the whirlpool. Her question was an echo in the darkness, a soft ripple against the backdrop of the relentless sea.

He turned to look at her, a hint of surprise crossing his features before being quickly replaced by his usual stoic expression. "I can't simply fly over," he admitted, his gaze returning to the tempestuous sea. "But I am here to learn Uzumaki Techniques, and I feel like passing this sea is a part of it."

A small smile played on Mikoto's lips at his words. 'As I thought so,' she mused inwardly, settling down on the ground. Kai was an enigma, a man of many secrets and few words. But even in his silence, there was a fascination to him. His mind was an ever-turning cog, constantly working, analyzing, calculating - it was a sight she would never tire of witnessing.

She watched as he paced the shore, his gaze locked on the swirling waters as if they held the answers to his questions. The moonlight danced on his form, casting an ethereal glow that made him seem almost unreal. The sound of the sea crashing against the shore was a constant roar in the background, its rhythm a steady heartbeat in the quiet night.

Time seemed to stretch and warp around them, blurring the line between minutes and hours. Kai's focus never wavered, his gaze locked on the sea as he racked his brain for a solution. There was a fierce determination in his eyes, a resolve that was as unyielding as the sea before them. It was a sight that made Mikoto's heart flutter in her chest - the sight of a man fighting against the odds, refusing to back down.

As the evening wore on, the brisk coastal air began to chill Mikoto. The seaside was unforgivingly cold, its relentless wind carrying a biting sting that seeped into her bones. She had been sitting quietly, watching Kai as he continued to pace the shore, but the frigid air was becoming unbearable.

"Kai," she called, her voice barely audible over the crashing waves. He didn't respond. His gaze was still fixated on the restless sea, his mind lost in a labyrinth of thoughts and possibilities. Undeterred, Mikoto called out again, "Kai," but it was as if her voice was swallowed by the wind, disappearing into the roaring sea.

After several futile attempts, Mikoto rose from her place, shivering slightly as a gust of wind swept over her. She walked over to where Kai stood, his figure illuminated by the eerie glow of the moon. The sand was cold under her feet, but she was too focused on Kai to care. When she was just a step behind him, she reached out, wrapping her arms around him in a warm hug.

Only then did Kai seem to realize her presence. He turned slightly, his steel blue eyes meeting hers. "Sorry," he said, his voice soft, barely a whisper. "I was too focused."

His apology hung in the air for a moment, then was snatched away by the wind. But Mikoto didn't need the wind to carry his words; she heard them loud and clear. There was an unfamiliar warmth in his voice, a slight twinge of regret. It was a fleeting glimpse of an emotion, a peek into his guarded heart. It was a rare sight for Mikoto, and she cherished it.

"Let's go," Kai said, his tone shifting back to its usual stoic, nonchalant self. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer for a brief second before everything around them changed.

One moment, they were standing on the chilly beach, the next they were in a warm, cozy motel room. Two beds were positioned on either side of the room, their neat and crisp linens a stark contrast to the chaotic sea outside. Kai released Mikoto and moved away, taking a seat on one of the beds.

"Did you find anything?" Mikoto asked, her voice steady and clear. She had shed her outer layer of clothing and was rubbing her arms to stave off the lingering cold. Despite the warmth of the room, the chill from the seaside still clung to her skin. Her onyx eyes fixed on Kai, silently seeking an answer.

Kai was seated on one of the beds, his figure bathed in the dim light of the room. He was hunched over, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on his thigh. He seemed to be deep in thought, his gaze unfocused and distant.

"Not yet," he replied after a pause, his voice barely audible. His eyes were still distant, as if he was seeing something beyond the confines of the room.

"Can I help?" Mikoto asked, her voice a soft whisper. She was not a trophy woman to be paraded around, she was a fine Kunoichi. Her skills were honed through years of training and experience, and she was more than capable of lending a helping hand.

Kai glanced at her, his steely gaze meeting her determined one. He seemed to study her for a moment, as if weighing her words. Then he nodded, his usual stoic expression settling back on his face.

"The Uzumaki were known for their sealing techniques," he started, his gaze now fixed on the wall in front of him. "There's a possibility that the whirlpool is a form of a seal, a protection of sorts for the land of Whirlpool."

"But it's impossible to analyze it from a distance," he continued, "And if it's truly a seal, there will be traps and possibly lethal consequences for those who attempt to force their way through without understanding it."

"I see," Mikoto said, her brows furrowing in concentration. "So, we need to understand the nature of the seal before we can attempt to cross it."

"Exactly," Kai confirmed, a faint trace of approval in his voice. His gaze drifted back to Mikoto, a fleeting glance before he focused back on his thoughts.

"However, the information about the Uzumaki clan and their techniques is scarce," he stated, his tone hinting at a rare trace of frustration. "They were feared and hunted for their abilities, their knowledge was purposely eradicated."

"And finding an authentic source of information in the current world is…" he trailed off, a grimace settling on his usually composed face. He was finding it difficult to trace the original seals and techniques of the Uzumaki clan, the lack of authentic sources adding to his plight.

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