A huge thanks to roadkill2580 for bouncing ideas with me, and elenathehun for the stand up editing job.

The tiny country of Ame held a special place in Tsunade's heart, though she would deny it if she was asked. Tsunade avoided the rainy landscape with the fervor of a cactus. Yet every time she entered it, she would not leave without it leaving a mark on her in return.

Truth be told, Shizune didn't piece this together herself until much later. At that moment she was mostly annoyed, just a little, that in order to cross into Earth Country, instead of braving the soggy but thoroughly safe flatlands of Ame, Tsunade took them crossing the grand Segawa River. In the middle of the monsoon season, with the wind howling and what seemed as though the entire heavenly store of water pouring on them. The river was a little ocean lapping on its banks and beyond, and no boats would cross at these conditions. No sane people either. It would be a miracle if little Sakura didn't fall sick after this.

The last point Shizune wielded like a surgical knife. "Sakura-chan cannot stay afloat for so long against such a current," Shizune said. "She would be washed away, or fall sick with dysentery."

The girl in question seemed more enthralled than scared by the stories of the flood. Tsunade said, "Then she doesn't deserve to be my apprentice, does she?" Nevertheless, they stayed to catch another night at the town. The rain had stopped; it was not unreasonable to hope they would be able to cross – with some shinobi ingenuity – the very next day.

As they checked into the only inn in the town, Shizune thought she could understand Tsunade's anxiety to leave as soon as possible. Their funds were starting to run thin again. A distressingly periodic occurrence, even with the heartless cut Shizune had imposed on Tsunade's vice funds. But not on the ever-growing abyss that was –

"Shizu-nee," Sakura said, tugging at Shizune's sleeves insistently, "Were you listening? Shisou has abandoned us!"

"Sorry, Sakura-chan," said Shizune, discreetly yanking her arm out of reach. She wasn't worried; there was little harm Tsunade could do with their purse safely sequestered with Shizune. "But I'm sure Tsunade-sama will be back shortly. You know she would never leave you just like that." There would be tears, mostly one sided, and so much drama, from all sides.

Although Shizune's tone was light, Sakura winced and said, "Sorry!"

Shizune sighed and thanked the innkeeper, who didn't even try to conceal her curiosity. Small wonder; they were the only guests staying for the night. The room had one bed, and only that. Sakura gingerly claimed it as her seat while Shizune inspected the small window on the other side of the room. An exit was only as good as its capacity as an attacking point. The rain had stopped, and twilight was fast falling. There was not much to see: flooded streets, carts full of wares struggling to push across mud, their owners swearing. People concerned with only themselves. In Konoha, even a group the size and make-up of Tsunade's entourage would receive scrutiny, one or two ANBU ghosts at minimum. Here, no one cared. Even Sakura had simply fallen into lazily scanning the pages of The Book of Rites, despite previously whining that it had nothing to do with shinobi. It probably didn't, but the silence that ensued whenever Sakura was engrossed in a book must have been Tsunade's primary reason for assigning the book. Though Shizune rather doubted the use of learning antiquated philosophy for an eight year old girl.

Still, it was a quaint way of living. But quaint could be charming; a little more, and Shizune could forget what she was.

In the second after a knock sounded upon their door, Shizune had a senbon in her palm. Then she pushed it away and, her body between Sakura and the interlocutor, answered. It was a distraught young woman, with a sickly daughter waiting at home, and no hope but for the legendary medic-nin. Not the first or indeed the last time they'd ever heard this, Shizune reflected.

"How did you find us?" she asked, wary. The town lacked the sort of venue that indulged Tsunade's vices – the sort of activities that would unwittingly announce their presence.

"You gave Madarame-san his legs back," the other said, face pinched, Shizune guessed, from suppressing the urge to just drag her. She was as abashed as she was insistent, which Shizune supposed were necessary qualities for supplicants of a medic-nin.

Sakura was staring again, the sensation crept along Shizune's spine as though she was back in Konoha's forests, where the trees were watching. She shook it off and told the girl to wait and be alert, and set out to follow – whatshername – Yae. Flitting through the streets unremarked upon as details of the mysterious sickness emerged. Fever, delirium, even coughing blood. Meanwhile, the crowd thinned and the buildings grew dense, until they came to a ramshackle house. Perfectly ordinary house. And inside there really was a sickly daughter. Shizune took her time evaluating the patient. The symptoms checked out, she'd have to admit.

She looked at the waif before her, then the young woman who'd brought her there, and motioned for her to follow. The house did not have many neighbors, and it didn't take her long to find an empty street.

Shizune steeled herself. At best she would just embarrass herself. At worst… "You can drop the act, if you'd please."

"I beg your pardon, shinobi-san?" the client said nervously.

"That girl, how did you find her? It's a very convincing act, but I wouldn't be fooled." Shizune rattled on, channeling Tsunade's bravado. "Now, tell me: who sent you?"

The transformation was sudden, fit for a shinobi. In an instant the woman's innocent facade was replaced with the point of a blade in Shizune's face. Folded steel, thrumming with chakra wrapped around itself several times over. A samurai's weapon. Even as it missed Shizune's nose by a wide berth she could tell the woman was trained in the samurai arts.

Her second thought was wondering when Tsunade had taken the time to piss off a samurai. The first was, damn, she had not been trained to face a samurai.

The woman slashed again – at empty air – and Shizune dove away from a wave of sharpened chakra. She took the chance to spit a poisoned senbon aimed at her neck. The needle bounced off with an audible ping. Not a trick unheard of among shinobi, but still –

In a burst of speed the sword came at her again, but Shizune had enough by then. She ran up the walls of the house to her right, and leapt off the roof as another wave of razor chakra destroyed her platform. Airborne, she let loose a handful of senbon, all of which were deflected with a flourishing of the sword.

But not a chakra-charged sword. So Shizune channeled chakra to her fist, prayed it would work, and came down. Bare knuckle and steel met for a moment before the steel gave way. She felt bones breaking – hers or the other woman's, Shizune didn't know. Still, her other hand struck at the only tenketsu she'd been able to identify at the nape of the neck. Flooding her chakra there should immobilise her foe.

The samurai glared, and glared – and nothing happened. Shizune silently thanked the Sage the samurai weren't known for doujutsu. When it seemed her little trick worked, she let the other woman go.

"Talk," Shizune said, to cover how much that little excitement had winded her. But also, it was all the more urgent to find Tsunade and inform her of what was happening.

The other kept glaring, then seized up. Panic seized Shizune – what if she'd made a fatal mistake? The distraction cost her as the woman suddenly sprang and tackled her to the ground. She was stronger, frenzied in her grapple, and Shizune was losing. A glint of another blade appeared in the corner of her eyes, and Shizune could only watch as the short sword descended…

Then it was gone, and so was the weight on top of her, accompanied by a familiar feral growl. Dizzied and struggling for breath, Shizune didn't quite see what Tsunade did to disable the other woman. But this time she had no hope of escape, dangling from a one-handed choking hold.

"Tsunade-sama, are you all right?" rasped Shizune.

"Worry about yourself," Tsunade said as she glowered at the captive. "So much for samurai honour. Your quarrel is with me."

A bark like coyote laughing. "Honour! Indeed, I know honour! When you destroyed an entire castle for its lord's mistakes, down to the innocent children of the servants, was it not shinobi honour?"

Tsunade's eyes widened a fraction, but it was too late. The samurai's body exploded in a blinding light. When Shizune opened her eyes again they were both gone. She started panicking, before realising it must have been Tsunade's shadow clone. It must have been. The alternative was too devastating to even consider.

And if a clone managed to intervene in time to save Shizune's life, there must at least be another clone with her other student. Once she could move, Shizune did, with haste.

There was a crowd surrounding the inn, and the reason was immediately apparent: a tree branch was sticking healthily through its wall. The room Shizune had left Sakura in. For the first time she feared for the girl, and leapt over the crowd's heads.

Inside was chaos. Blood dotted with cherry blossom petals. Pieces of armour dangling oddly from wooden limbs like tentacles – dangling from the shredded remnants of a human body. In the undisturbed middle was Tsunade, coaxing a… tree?

And where was Sakura?

Even as Shizune wondered, Tsunade stomped her foot and said, "Fine, be that way. We're leaving without you."

The tree whimpered, and shrunk and twisted – no, it untwisted itself into a girl. "No! I'm sorry! Please don't leave me again!" Sakura cried with very human tears pooling in her eyes.

Grimacing, Tsunade tentatively patted her head as if she was a venomous viper. "Well, come on, then. And stop crying!" She looked at Shizune pleadingly. The latter sighed, still confused, but she gingerly took Sakura's hand.

They ended up camping outside the town after all, on the first dry patch they could find.

"This is good enough," Tsunade said.

It was barely an hour from the town. "But – "

Tsunade jerked her thumb meaningfully at Sakura, who put on a brave face but was seconds away from dropping where she stood. Shizune dutifully set up camp, then put her to sleep.

"She's exhausted," Tsunade explained unnecessarily. "In any case, there shouldn't be more of them."

"You knew them, Tsunade-sama?"

"Hn," Tsunade said, poking at the crackling fire with a stick. "There could've been survivors; we didn't check. I'd have looked the other way, anyway – they would've been Sakura's age then."

And not being shinobi, they'd have been innocent, and defenseless. Like Sakura. "I… apologise for failing to protect her," Shizune said haltingly.

"See to it that it doesn't happen again," Tsunade reprimanded. "We're lucky her asshole of a father had been right about the mokuton."

Tsunade spoke with a twinge of disbelief that in turn surprised Shizune. She had always thought Tsunade had confirmed it, that it was the only reason she would take the girl as her apprentice. Tsunade fell silent, but Shizune thought she could guess what she was thinking. How a girl born and raised far away from Konoha or any other shinobi establishment could have the First Hokage's singular gift. And what it meant for Tsunade, his only surviving descendant until now.

Apparently still in the clutches of the past, Tsunade murmured, "Foolish children. Twenty years waiting for revenge… Damn Ame…"

And because Shizune's gaze was fixed on Sakura, unseeing as it was, she was still the first to catch the transformation. Even in the dim lighting of fire those were unmistakably leaves, and the arms slowly turning into wood. "Tsunade-sama, is Sakura…"

Tsunade swore, and shook the girl awake. Sakura seemed more awed at her arboreal forearm, which showed no sign of stopping its merry progress.

"Stop it," snapped Tsunade, and Sakura was startled into concentrating. And concentrating. And nothing happened. Impatient, Tsunade grabbed the arm, and flinched away as though electrocuted. "Damn, she's collecting natural energy." Tsunade stared at her own hand, then visibly steeled herself, and bit her thumb, drawing blood to summon Katsuyu.

"Fix her," Tsunade said to the slug, though it seemed unnecessary as Katsuyu had already moved to envelop Sakura's arm. There was a tense moment as even Shizune held her breath despite herself, eventually resolved when branches turned back to fingers at last.

"It works! What a relief," Katsuyu said. "Oh, hi, Sakura-chan. My name is Katsuyu."

While summon animal and girl were getting acquainted, Shizune attempted to discreetly heal Tsunade's thumb before she realised it was still bleeding. She did anyway, but made a show of ignoring both.

Katsuyu stayed attached to Sakura through the night – as it explained, Sakura's cells fixed natural energy as a matter of respiration – except as there was no subsequent metabolism, the natural energy induced mokuton hyperactivity instead. Put simply, without outside help, or in other words Katsuyu, Sakura's body would involuntarily turn into a tree.

Fuuinjutsu was shot down with the vehemence of touching a smarting wound. The slug suggested senjutsu; it was dismissed immediately on the count of Sakura's almost non-existent capability with ninjutsu. For the same reason, they were pessimistic about the success of meditation and self-control, though Sakura was made to practice both all the same, if only to keep her preoccupied.

"Ne, Shizu-nee," Sakura said, yanking Shizune's sleeve, and that was the only warning before she pressed a handful of flowers into her hand. Roses of all things, in this part of the continent at this season. Shizune peered closer. Blue roses. Interesting.

"They're beautiful, Sakura-chan," she said to the girl shyly waiting for her response. "Have you shown these to Tsunade-sama?"

Sakura pouted. "Shishou said you could have it."

Ah. The flowers, near as she could tell, were flawless, indistinguishable from the real things. All this from the spontaneous creation Sakura was told to do to burn off her excess energy. Shizune found it impressive. The problem was that she was the only one. But that, at least, was an old problem.

"Did I do something wrong? I tried to control it, but…"

"It's not your fault." And with children Shizune was fast learning to separate the complications generated by the child's existence from that by the child's actions. "Tsunade-sama is just… exasperated she couldn't find a solution she'd like." Would a child understand the concept of tying yourself into a knot to avoid the knife? She changed the subject, asking, "Sakura-chan, did anyone ever talk to you about the mokuton, or your bloodline?"

Sakura seemed to shrink into herself. Not delicate enough, then. "Nuh-uh… just my father, in the casino…"

Shizune pinned one rose through Sakura's hair, one through her own. The last she gave to Katsuyu. That made Sakura giggle at last. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure Tsunade-sama will figure it out soon."

Soon turned out to be close to a week that Sakura had to live with Katsuyu hanging on her shoulder. Tsunade didn't seem concerned about the prospect of tethering it to the human world in perpetuity… but Shizune was. And when she brought it up, Tsunade only said, "If you're looking for things to worry about, watch so the brat doesn't exert herself." Shizune, in fact, had enough worry for them all, but she kept her silence after that.

The weather became clearer, even warmer, as the cloud over Tsunade's head grew stormier. By then Shizune felt it was safe enough to point out they were back in Fire Country. Dare Shizune hope they would keep course until they reached Konoha? She didn't voice the last part.

Tsunade heard it all the same. Scowling, defeated and grasping at one last defiance, she stuck her chin high and grumbled, "We're going back to your home.

Up next: whose home is it anyway.