---
Shadowlands
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
---
The last thing I remembered, that girl—Sakura, I think her name was—was screaming. What was it she was screaming? My name? I think it was my name. Tsunade. Yes, that was my name.
I was…on my knees, in rubble. It was his doing, that student of Jiraiya's. The last thing I thought was wondering what…what…Naruto—why can't I remember anyone's names?—would do when he found out. Then I must have passed out.
Here, it was dark. The light faded in and out, fluctuating like the passage of the moon. I didn't know how long I've been there, I didn't know where I was, I just knew that I was trapped—and that I wasn't sure that I wanted to be free.
I knew deep in my heart that I had lived far too long. My time was up so long ago that it's ridiculous. But someone up there clearly hated me, because I was lingering on in that half life, barely alive and trapped in myself.
Hold on. The light was growing. It was a deep, dim red light. I was in a hallway, a long, narrow hallway.
At first, I hesitated. I didn't know where the hall led, or what I would find around the bend in the corner up ahead. Then I scoffed. When had I ever been hesitant? Uncertainty wasn't part of my nature.
I walked, my footsteps echoing off of the walls, jarring in my ears. I came to a staircase, and I traversed it, my hand trailing off of the bitingly cold iron railing.
It was probably three minutes before I realized that I wasn't alone. It was when I came to a giant rotunda, cavernous and empty, that I heard the swish of silk and whirled around.
Standing quietly some feet away from me was a small, slight figure, my height or a little shorter, swathed from head to toe in a hooded robe of black silk. The cowl was down over the figure's eyes, obscuring their upper face. Small, neatly manicured hands protruding out of voluminous sleeves were folded over the skirt of the robe.
"Who are you?" I asked, fighting down a tremor in my voice.
"That's not the question you should be asking. The question you should be asking is, what do you want?"
That voice…it was familiar. More than familiar, it was… "Sakura?" I whispered hoarsely.
The figure didn't answer.
It was Sakura's voice. It was Sakura under that cowl, I knew it. The voice was identical, but it was so different. Her voice held more gravity, was more imposing, and was more powerful and terrifying than I had ever known it to be. It wasn't the same Sakura I knew.
"What do you mean by that?" I demanded, trying to sound defiant but falling short at tremulous, almost churlish.
Sakura swept around in an imperious swish of black silk, as heels of shoes hit the marble floor with an almost metallic clang. "Follow me and find out."
It was like I had no choice; I was following her down the hall without really knowing what I was doing, my feet moving of their own accord. We walked down the hall, Sakura leading, as it seemed to grow longer and more sinuous, like a snake, until we reached a door, which Sakura pushed open. I almost yelped with shock as, with a strength that even with my training she shouldn't have had, Sakura grabbed the material of my haori and pulled me in.
.x.X.x.
For a moment, all was black, and then everything came back into focus.
I was in the sunlit room where I always trained with Sakura. There was a long scroll in front of me, with a fish in the middle of kanji symbols. I was on my knees, and Sakura was beside me, looking as she did at thirteen.
"So, shishou, do you want to live or do you want to die?"
"W-what?" I was caught off guard by that question; what was that supposed to mean?
Sakura smiled, her sweet, adorable little girl smile, and despite myself, I shuddered. "Exactly what I said, Tsunade-shishou."
The girl leaned down and laid her hands on the fish. "When we heal patients, we hold the power of life and death over them. But we always hold that power over ourselves as well. Right now, you have a choice to make. You can take one path, and live, or you can take the other and release your soul from your body. It's not a choice to be taken lightly."
I started a little at that, before staring down at my hands. Not a choice to be taken lightly… I understood that much. And what a choice to make…
Nearly everyone I loved is dead. My parents, Nawaki, Jiraiya, Dan…I've managed to make a mess of my life, and there isn't a whole lot left in it worth living for. But still…
"So, Tsunade. What do you want?"
I stared into Sakura's emerald eyes. She might as well have been asking me what I was going to order off of a menu in a restaurant. "I'm…not sure," I admitted, barely able to speak audibly.
Sakura's smile twisted into something ugly. "That's the way of the world."
The world shifted.
.x.X.x.
It was night, and it was excruciatingly cold. Sand whipped into my face.
"And what makes you think you deserve to live, Tsunade?"
It was a voice I haven't heard in several years, but it was one I immediately recognize. Sitting by a campfire, Akasuna no Chiyo gave me a nasty smirk.
"Come over here, girl," she said, waving a hand. "No need to freeze to death before I finish with you."
As I sat down, Chiyo looked me over and remarked, "You seem to be under the impression that your life is charmed, aren't you, Tsunade?"
I made no response, stubbornly holding the other woman's gaze; this was my rival, my enemy, and I would not yield to her.
Chiyo had no trouble responding though. "Tell me, Tsunade, when you defeat an enemy in battle, why do you think it is that you survive?"
I laughed under my breath, rising to the bait. "Simple, you old hag. I'm stronger than them."
"Wrong!" A mocking laugh filled the air, and Chiyo shook her head, her eyes full of mirth. "You're going on the premise that you're special somehow, Tsunade, but you're wrong. It's not your strength that saves you. It's the luck of the draw. Kill or be killed. In any battle, no matter how much stronger one side is than the other there's a fifty-fifty chance that either will win. When you fight, there's as much a chance that your enemy will slit your throat as you will theirs."
Chiyo looked into the fire. "That you survive, Tsunade, is not a sign of your strength. It's dumb luck, nothing more, nothing less." She raised her iron gray eyebrows momentarily, and muttered, "Who knows, maybe you're life is charmed." Chiyo looked up, and I was shocked to see a dull nothingness in her usually lively eyes. "But who ever said having a charmed life is such a good thing, anyway?"
I could not speak. I didn't know what to say to her. I could only listen, and watch.
"Living long, Tsunade, is highly overrated. If you last long enough, you'll live to see everyone you've ever cared about die or simply fade away." Chiyo looked down, a peculiar sort of pain on her face. "You'll live to find that your body has betrayed you and that the world has left you far behind. Do you really want that?"
I had no answer to that.
.x.X.x.
The sand kicked up, and when it cleared, I was no longer in the desert.
It was a restaurant. The smell of dango and soup and all other meaty foods lingered in the air, delicious instead of cloying, and Jiraiya was sitting across from me in the booth, nursing a glass of sake. "Life's not meant to be a cake walk, Tsunade."
For a moment, I couldn't breathe. Then everything slammed back into focus. Small tears leaked out of my eyes before I could even stop them; my breathing got hitched.
Jiraiya rolled his eyes and held out a handkerchief. "Cut it out with the waterworks, princess. It's not like you."
"Sorry," I muttered, dabbing at my eyes. "I just never expected…God, Jiraiya, I never thought I'd see you again."
He laughed at me. "Start expecting weird things, Tsunade-hime." Jiraiya took a sip from the sake, and looked me dead in the eyes. "We all screw up, Tsunade. You know that, right?"
I smirked, thankful to retreat in something familiar. "You and I know that better than just about everyone alive."
"Yeah, but life's full of screw-ups. We live, we learn. No one's ever really happy. You've just got to learn to live with the pain Tsunade."
I sneered. "Like you did? You always hid, Jiraiya. You buried everything deep down, right up until the end. Who knows, maybe dying will clear up my problems. It's not like there's anything left that I can do."
The light fixtures overhead flickered and fizzed out.
.x.X.x.
"How can you even say that?" It wasn't Jiraiya's voice. It was a woman's voice, breaking with angry emotion and split with pain and betrayal. Shizune's voice.
Hot afternoon sunlight poured in through the window of the hotel room. Shizune was standing near the window, assuming that defensive posture I knew so well, preparing to have it out with me verbally. Usually, we had arguments of this nature over my drinking or gambling habits, or my tendency to skip out on work. But this was much more serious.
"Of course there's still something you can do! There are things you have to do!"
I shook my head, trying not to fall into that so-familiar trap. "It's up to the younger generation now. They're more than capable of handling it. Besides—"I smiled weakly "—the village may have been leveled, but that won't stop the Leaf for long. Konoha will be rebuilt in no time. What's the worst that could go wrong?"
Shizune gritted her teeth, looking down. "Things…haven't been going that well for Konoha since you fell into a coma."
"I have lived fifty-four years on this earth!" I half-shouted. "Most shinobi are lucky to live half that long; I've done my part."
"You're wrong," she whispered. "We still need you, now more than ever. And either way, if you want to live or die you've got a funny way of showing it—why not end this now? Come back. Konoha still needs you."
A bitter smile twisted my lips. "And what if I decide to die?"
The light began to fade, and I couldn't see Shizune anymore. But I could still hear her voice, laden down with trouble and sadness. "Then you will go. And I will miss you."
In the darkness, I bowed my head. "I know."
.x.X.x.
The smell of recent rain still hung on the trees and in the swaying summer grass. It was the old training ground; I was amazed at how well I remembered.
"But you don't remember the most essential aspect of a shinobi's training, Tsunade-chan."
I looked back, and stared. Sarutobi-sensei smiled back at me, looking just as he had over forty years ago.
"And…what would that be?"
Sarutobi's smile widened. "Self-preservation, of course. A ninja can—must will themselves to live even in the most dire of situations. It is essential in carrying out a mission and protecting your village. You must always choose to live, even if you are at the point of death. To choose to die is to choose to be selfish."
I frowned contemplatively; Sarutobi had always encouraged his students to speak their minds with him. "Isn't that what you did?"
His brow rose. "Oh?"
"You chose to die when you fought Orochimaru. You wanted to kill him—" And words can't describe how much I wish you had "—but you couldn't even do that."
Sarutobi only laughed softly and shook his head. "It is no shameful thing to die in the defense of your village, Tsunade. And believe me, if I had been given the choice I would have chosen to live. But you, you are still alive. The day will come, but that day is not today."
"Any animal…" My voice shook. "…Can revert back to instinct and live. Any beast can flee from the master who threatens to kill it. But humanity—sentience—has a defining factor, the ability to choose whether to live or to die. And it is my right to choose."
"Tsunade." Sarutobi's voice became a breath on the wind, carried on leaves of ancient greenery. "You gave up the right to choose death when you became Godaime Hokage. You may not understand that now, but some day you will."
.x.X.x.
Now, the smell of mildew and mold and stagnant water filled the air. The air itself was still and silent. I was in some dank tunnel, and if not for the lack of any smell of sewage I would have been sure it was a sewer. Dull, yellow lights flickered overhead. The place was familiar, but I couldn't place how.
"You know, Tsunade, you have always had a form of immortality that I have quite frankly envied."
Now I knew exactly why this place was familiar. It was the old tunnel leading to the lab where Orochimaru had conducted his experiments for as long as he had on the surface remained loyal to Konoha. I hadn't been present the night the raid was conducted, but I had seen the pictures much later, and this hall became a feature of my nightmares.
As had he.
Orochimaru stood at the other end of the hall, tall, slim, serpentine, a long white snake coiled around his waist. I clambered to my feet, uncaring of how wet my pants were, to be prepared to at least spar verbally with my former teammate-turned-deadly enemy.
Orochimaru flashed his Cheshire Cat's smile at me, and I deliberately stiffened to keep from shuddering.
"At first, Tsunade, when I heard of your jutsu I was almost certain it was a genjutsu. I mean, you've always had skill in that area, despite your more—" Orochimaru broke off, giving a creepily feminine laugh of embarrassment "—physical tendencies.
"But as time went on, I began to realize that you had stopped your metabolism altogether. You have maintained your appearance as you were at twenty-six for the past twenty-eight years, even when you were unconscious. Even with the ghastly side-effects when the jutsu is at anytime lifted, it is still a masterful feat, Tsunade. I'm quite jealous."
Golden eyes narrowed predatorily. "I confess, Tsunade, I don't quite understand you. You could literally live forever—or at least for several centuries—with this jutsu of yours, yet you seem desperately intent on limiting yourself, on throwing your life away. And the most pitiful part is that you don't even know why you want to die so badly. Why not wake up, and live?"
At that point, I might have chosen death just to spite him. I would have chosen to die, just to see the look on Orochimaru's face when I did. But then I remembered, and my heart clenched with the knowledge.
Orochimaru had twisted beyond recognition everyone he had ever come into contact with, including me. He corrupted everything he touched. His words were as venomous as the fangs of the snake coiled around his waist. I couldn't take into account a word he said.
"What do you know of life and death," I asked, "when all you wanted was to cheat both?"
A dry laugh echoed off the walls before I walked away to find greener pastures.
.x.X.x.
It was nighttime, a forest, rainy and dense and eerily quiet. I found myself stepping through undergrowth, pushing aside branches, feeling foreboding wash over me like an unwelcome autumn's thunderstorm.
Noises were coming from up ahead. I picked up the pace. First walking, then running, and all the while dread settled in the bottom of my stomach.
I came to the edge of a clearing, and stayed hidden in the undergrowth. I wasn't entirely sure what I was seeing.
The scene in front of me was playing like an old movie on the television when the tape was worn. The people seemed to fade in and out, their voices fluctuating between high and low.
A woman was leaning over a man; there were others in the background, but they weren't important. The man…he was dying. And the woman…She was screaming, going berserk, losing her mind, howling, tearing up the earth as her companions dragged her away.
That woman…
She was me.
"Death is the only reality, Tsunade," a voice sounded. I gasped, and turned around. A figure clad in darkness stood before me, his eyes invisible. But I know who he was.
"D-Dan…"
He took no notice of my choked word. The sickly sweet smell of rotting flesh assailed my nose. "Death is the only thing that's real; it's the only thing that binds us together, makes us similar. We must all die. Even immortals must die. But we are given a choice as to how we choose that death. We are allowed to make that choice worthwhile."
He began to walk away.
I snapped out of my paralysis. "No!" I screamed. "Don't leave me!" I sank to my knees, tears pouring down my face. "Don't…not again…"
The forest faded into inky darkness, as I wept and the rain continued to fall soft and steady.
"You may choose to join me, if you wish. But I gave up my life for you, Tsunade. Do not make a mockery of what I gave for you."
.x.X.x.
"Every choice we make, my dear daughter, changes the course of every event in the world, no matter how insignificant our choice may seem."
I didn't recognize the voice at first. And quite frankly I was crying too hard to care. It all just hurt so much; I wanted to shut everything out and I didn't care who was trying to screw my mind over this time.
"For instance, a choice taken or lost may sever the life of some young woman's sweet child brother, or may permanently separate two lovers between the veils of life and death. A choice taken by a leader of men may prove to be the salvation or the downfall of whole civilizations. Like ripples in a pond, daughter.
"You are almost unique, Tsunade. You hold in your hands the fates of thousands of unborn souls, and you must choose whether to let them live or to kill them before they can ever draw breath. I know your dream; you wish to see a day when families of brothers and sisters can play together and not fear losing each other. You wish to see the day when two sweethearts don't have to plan their wedding with indecent haste for fear that one will marry Death first."
A hand appeared before my tear-blinded eyes, and I looked up, and saw my mother, Senju Narumi, as she had appeared the day she had been laid to rest, long fair hair flowing down her shoulders, white silken kimono billowing. She smiled down at me.
"What do you want, Tsunade? Do you want to live or do you want to die?"
I took her hand, and stood. "Live…I…want to live."
.x.X.x.
My body was heavy. It ached unbearably. My eyes felt like they were weighted down with sand, but I forced them open.
The surroundings were unfamiliar, but the people weren't. A medic was standing at the door, pushing up his glasses to wipe away tears. And Shizune was on her knees beside me, tears pouring down her face, her lower lip trembling.
"Tsunade-sama!" she half-shrieked, throwing her arms around me in a fierce hug, wailing her heart out. I could feel saline dampness wetting my shirt.
As I gently wound my arms around my back in an attempt to comfort her, I could only think of a few words, and my cracked lips and dry mouth could only allow for them.
"Shizune…that hurts…"
In truth, a little pain had never been more welcome.
Praise God, she's awake! Okay, for any of you who are familiar with Babylon 5, the fifth season in particular, Tsunade's conversation with the aspect of her mind that chose to show it self as Shizune (whew, that was a mouthful) should have been ringing major bells. Shizune's last line was either word for word or very close to a line Vir said to Londo in that episode. Tsunade's relationship to Shizune is very similar to Londo's to Vir, in that the assistants stick around mainly because they care and also because they're terrified of what sort of trouble their masters would get themselves into without them around.
If anything, the whole fic should seem similar to that episode, but different since this is more about the choice to live or die than about morality and forgiveness. I think this is a sort of logical thing Tsunade would be going through during a coma, with the decision to live or die. Because to her, after everything that she's been through, it's a logical question.
Oh, understand. I'm a bit sick right now, and unfortunately am on two different kinds of prescriptions plus cough medicine, so if any of this seems less than lucid, that's why.
