It was inevitable they'd cross on the battle field. One a healer of wounds, the other a giver of death though poisons. They had fought a thousand battles without ever seeing each other. Chiyo would send the Sand ninjas out with poisoned weapons. Tsunade would heal the wounds inflicted and make antidotes rendering the Poison master's work a failure.
They faced off. Tsunade stood tall with her hands straightened into deadly chakra blades against Chiyo with her puppets. They clashed again and again, wrecking the landscape. By dark they were both breathing heavy and the ground was littered with craters and broken puppet pieces.
The blonde grinned at Chiyo, who stood clutching the stump that used to be her arm. "You're losing blood there, old woman." She mocked. "You should retreat before you die out here with your toys."
The sand ninja scoffed. "Don't get to full of yourself, Leaf Slug. I can beat you without the use of an arm. You and your Village is going to fall. You best prepare yourself."
Tsunade's mocking smirk turned into a glare as she shifted on the balls of her feet to attack. She channeled her chakra into her hand, ready to unleash a blow to kill the woman when it sounded, the bell signaling a cease fire. The blonde stopped her fist millimeters from the older woman's wide eyed face. She pulled back and opened her palm pressing it to the bloody stump that was Chiyo's arm instead.
"It was an honor fighting you." Tsunade said quietly as she healed her. "I hope I never have to meet you on the battle field again."
The blonde looked up as Orochimaru and Jiraiya landed beside her. She nodded a greeting and finished the task of healing lost appendage. She stepped back, woozy from the amount of chakra she'd exerted.
Chiyo watched the Leaf's Slug Princess get ushered, her good hand over the now pain free stump. She would never forgive the Leaf for killing her son, but she at least have a grudging respect for the woman who went toe to toe with her and then took the time to heal her instead of leaving her to bleed out.
