A Match Into Water / 7

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2 months left until my new cousin was here. I wasn't ready. At all.

And it was only a few more weeks until they'd throw Hashirama to the wolves—I wasn't ready for that either. Despite the fact he would be going with my father, who'd obviously protect him without a second thought. It only made me worry for both of them.

These past few months, my sister had finally taught me how to walk on trees, which I'd now insisted on learning. It turns out, with all the work I've been putting into my chakra control, it was surprisingly easy for me. My only struggle was the physical difficulty of it, and I ended up in a coughing fit more than once.

Every day that was not spent with my cousins was spent with either my sister or Takara, who became more and more comfortable with us by the day. I wasn't sure why, but for some reason she seemed to prefer me. We were closer in age than her and Tōka—maybe that was it.

Many days I held a two year old Kawarama by the hand, leading him outside to relieve his mother of the energetic toddler so she could rest. I had been trying to make her life as easy as I possibly could, in hopes that even something small could potentially be all it takes to save her. But I didn't get my hopes up.

On top of that, I tried to spend as much time with her as I could in the time I had left. This included doing a lot of housework for her, playing with Kawarama, and not trapping her in an emotional chokehold because I was mad at her. The stress wouldn't be helping anyone.

I wasn't sure if my father could tell why I was doing this or not, but weirdly enough, it almost seemed as if he had the same idea. He went on missions much more often, but instead of going home once he returned it seemed as if he always ended up at the clan head's home first. I thought it might've been because he knew that was where to find me, or if he was just trying to check on aunt Miya in Butsuma's absence. It was a relief when he did, though; with his more advanced medic skills, he always made sure she wasn't getting sick and everything was going fine. Him and I both, in my opinion, took pretty good care of her.

As much of a load off of my shoulders as it was, there were times where it became a little odd to watch. My aunt was always so unearthly happy to see him, and sometimes when he would check on her it was hard to miss the gleam in his eyes and the smile that actually looked genuine. If he thought she would live, then I had to believe it too; that was the only thing I had that gave me hope.

Despite this kid's birth hanging over my head like a dark cloud, things were relatively okay otherwise.

Aunt Miya was generally always in good spirits, especially now that I'd come around and started spending more time with her. Father was often away on missions, but never quite as often as my uncle. Hashirama and Tobirama were out training, a lot. Tōka was too, but she was a bit behind compared to them. Whenever I wasn't with my aunt and Kawarama, I was with her, to either keep her company or for her to teach me practical things.

I didn't expect Hashirama or my father to be away quite this often, at least until Hashirama started going on missions of his own. And as much as I loved Kawarama and my aunt, I felt like my med-nin training was a little too stagnant. That was how I ended up outside the home of one of our esteemed clan elders.

Tōka thought I was crazy when I asked her where she lived. Well, not really.

Originally, she was actually really excited when I first asked because she thought I wanted to play some ridiculous prank on her. She didn't think I was crazy until I told her I wanted to ask for her to teach me.

My sister not only thought I was crazy, but she insisted on following me the whole way there, and listening to everything outside her window just to make sure I was okay. I had told her it wasn't necessary several times, but eventually I had to relent to her stubborn protectiveness after I realized I couldn't really do anything to stop her anyway.

Three short knocks on the door, and I counted the seconds I waited. One, two, three, four…

The door opened.

The old bag looked unsurprised. Her words didn't necessarily match her expression, however.

"Oh," she started, feigning surprise, "Well if it isn't the honorable youngest niece. To what have you come for?"

Her tone was annoying. I could practically feel Tōka scowling at the woman's mocking, condescending voice from wherever she was hiding.

"You said before that I should come to you when I'm ready to start learning from you, so I'm here now." I explained as simply as possible. I didn't particularly care for any sort of small talk.

The older woman now wore a satisfied look that I assumed was a good sign—though I was unsure when she turned and walked away. She didn't shut the door, did that mean she wanted me to follow her?

"Come." She beckoned after a beat. I quickly gathered myself, hurrying inside and closing the door to catch up with her. Out of my peripheral vision I saw my sister sneaking behind the trees that surrounded the elder's house, and I sighed.

"I have heard you have interest in medical ninjutsu." I heard her croon as she poured me tea that she had apparently already started and made. I probably interrupted her in the middle of some silly morning tea tradition. I nodded and quickly kneeled around the table and moved to take a sip once she had given it to me.

"Do you know what kind of herbs are in that tea you're drinking?" she asked, and I stopped myself.

"…No, I do not." I replied flatly. Of course I didn't know. Slowly—because she was ancient—she pulled out a scroll, unrolling it to show me a list of herbs and descriptions of them.

"This group of herbs right here are present in that tea right now." She gestured to a select few, and I scanned the paper quickly only to notice that one of them—what?

"One of them is poisonous." I furrowed my brow, setting the cup back down. "Why would you…?" I trailed off, confused. Her expression was serious, betraying no emotion.

"That leaf has a particular scent that makes it detectable as poisonous, of course, if you are inclined to believe that someone is trying to poison you. But then again, most people do not smell their tea before they drink it—and it is virtually tasteless, being overpowered by other ingredients in that regard." She explained. I blinked, not exactly expecting to be taught a lesson this soon upon requesting her assistance. It was almost as if she saw me coming.

"As a medic-nin, knowing which herbs will aid you and which will harm you is basic. Memorize them." she pushed the scroll towards me, and I couldn't help but notice that it had to be packed with hundreds of different herbs. I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows.

All of them? I wanted to ask, but my better judgement decided not to question her.

"…Yes ma'am." I agreed, rolling it up so I'd remember to take it with me. For a moment I thought I saw a flash of surprise in her eyes—but then it was gone in an instant. I had to remind myself not to absentmindedly drink that tea. I resisted the urge not to fidget, but the fact that she had tested me and I'd fallen for it right off the bat was mildly unsettling.

"More importantly than your studies as a med-nin," she started after a moment, "Is your duty to this clan." She finished. I swore at that moment I heard a groan come from a distance my left—was that Tōka?

Idiot, get away from the window! I cursed inwardly. Of course—this was the part that she always came home complaining about. The clan, the clan, the clan.

"Now, you must realize that you and your sister are the closest blood to the head of this clan's family. The closest female blood, that is." She pointed out. My expression stayed the same.

"Yes." I responded, because it was obvious it was a fact.

"That means that you and her both have a reputation to fulfill. You are to present yourselves as if you were directly a part of that family. To do that, you must be dignified, and you must familiarize yourself with the finances, morale and politics of the clan." She droned.

I suddenly realized how my sister felt the way she did. Chizuka's voice was neutral, unwavering and slow-moving. Listening to these sort of long winded explanations could get tiring fast. Tōka was obviously incredibly bored with the finances, morale and politics of the clan—and to be perfectly honest, I couldn't blame her. Children simply didn't have the attention span to care about those sort of things—but now she was teaching me, and I was certainly not a child.

As boring as I knew this was going to be, I decided to suffer through it. Partially as a means to make up for my sister rebelling against it, and partially because I knew I had virtually no other options. Being a shinobi was out, so I supposed that meant I had to be…a diplomat?

Ew. I cringed at the word. Never in my wildest dreams—or darkest of nightmares did I imagine myself becoming anything of the sort.

"There are many advantages to diplomacy, such as the fact that they command a good amount of respect and honor of the clan; in the event that you were ever taken hostage by an enemy clan, they would be less willing to kill you and more likely to make a compromise for the sake of…,"

I wondered how Aunt Miya was doing…No, Nuka, don't tune her out! At least not on the first day!

"…And while yes, you are admittedly at a bit of a disadvantage considering your lack of a mother figure; although your dear aunt did, in fact, play a similar role in the clan's affairs which ultimately put her in an adequate position to be well suited as a wife to our clan head. Now, considering our darling heir is such close blood to yourself, it may be unlikely that you find yourself in a similar position, but all the same…,"

Yes, I was aware that I was not likely to marry my cousin. I blinked several times, steeling myself to pay attention.

"But, as trusted clan members with a distinct knowledge of the inner workings of the clan, you will undoubtedly maintain a high status the older you get. If you work hard enough, perhaps someday you could even become as much importance to the clan as myself. Of course, this is only provided you pay attention and put in the effort necessary to do so."

I straightened up. Did she catch me tuning out?

"Now," she finally paused, "Do you understand everything I've said?"

"Yes, Chizuka-sama." I respectfully confirmed. I was sure some of it went in one ear and out the other—but overall I felt I understood well enough. For today. I wasn't entirely sure how long I'd been sitting here, and my legs were starting to get stiff from kneeling.

"Good." She seemed to believe me, "You will return here every morning at the same time from now on. No exceptions. Am I clear?"

Every day? No matter what? What if something else came up, like Aunt Miya's baby? I couldn't possibly not be there if it coincided with these lessons.

"…Yes. I understand." I replied neutrally, trying not to let my confusion show on my face. I suppose all I could do was just hope that nothing would get in the way.

"Excellent." She acknowledged, "I had a feeling there would be more potential in you. Very well, be on your way now."

Wasting no time, I got up with the scrolls she had given me. I figured it would be best to kiss up to her while I could, so I bowed and forced a tiny smile on my face.

"Thank you for your time." I said politely, though the words felt forced and automated. I thought I saw what looked like a shadow of a smile back—but I didn't stick around to find out. I left her home none too hurriedly, taking a deep breath once I had finally shut the door behind me.

"Pssst."

Another sigh of relief escaped me. I checked behind me, just to make sure Chizuka wasn't watching me on my way out before I scurried over to the tree I knew my sister was hiding behind. She urgently grabbed me by the shoulders, her eyes wide with interest.

"How was it? What happened? I didn't hear any yelling or anything!" she asked one after another.

"Shh!" I lifted a finger to her lips to shush her, "Just cause she's old doesn't mean she can't hear anything." Tōka furtively glanced over at the house, making sure she wasn't listening in.

"Oops." She lowered her voice, "So anyway—,"

"It wasn't that bad." I cut her off in a whisper, "I mean, it was pretty boring and she talked forever but it was all kind of important stuff." I admitted. Tōka wrinkled her nose.

"No way! I don't understand half the stuff she says…," she trailed off, her eyes turning less pouty and more pensive. "You've always been so smart." She finished, kicking a rock at her feet. Her tone of voice made it sound like she was almost self-conscious that she wasn't the same way, and I couldn't mask the guilt I suddenly felt. I grabbed her by the hand.

"Well, maybe, but…," she looked at me in mild surprise, and I grinned at her, "You're going to be a really great shinobi someday. I could never do what you do." I complimented in genuine admiration. And it was true—with my current physical condition, I just didn't have half the potential that she had. Even if I grew out of it someday, I'd always be playing catch up with her.

Tōka's glum look started to crack, and I saw her lips twitch before curling up in an almost embarrassed smile. She sniffled—ever the obvious one—and I noticed her eyes welling up in the slightest before she pulled me into one of the biggest hugs she's ever given me. They seemed to get bigger as we grew up; I suppose technically that might be because she was growing noticeably faster than I was.

"Heh, I guess so… C'mon, let's go play with Taka!" she proposed after composing herself, dragging me along in the furthest direction of the compound from where we currently were. I made no argument—instead keeping up as well as I could, smiling as I wished that days and moments like these could last forever.


Takara could generally be found as far away as possible from the houses of any important members of the clan. She made a point to learn exactly where the elders and the clan head resided for the sole purpose of avoiding them effectively.

From anyone's point of view, it was obvious that the girl was just naturally skittish. Her personality was simply a timid one and the fact that she avoided any and every figure of clan authority wasn't particularly shocking.

Some people understood. Others were suspicious. But whatever the case, she was only a kid, and few people managed to be honestly suspicious of a girl that young.

That is, unless your name was Senju Butsuma, and you looked at every human being that wasn't born within Senju walls a potential threat.

He noticed right away that the only people the girl seemed to spend any time with were his nieces. Who, in a way, sort of forced their company onto her at that. She had obviously warmed up to them, so it seemed—but the way she pointedly avoided everyone else just didn't sit well with him.

There was a day he came home after a mission to find Nuka taking care of his wife. There were quite a few days like that, actually; he certainly didn't mind, knowing that their relationship had always been strained in the past and he never had enough time for her himself. He would admit that he very much appreciated her help.

Either way, one day that he had come home and she was there, they had spoken briefly about the new little friend she had made. Butsuma didn't often make a point to talk to his youngest niece, but every time he did he found himself impressed with the maturity that practically radiated from her. It was certainly odd, but in no sense could it be considered a bad thing or something to worry about.

Butsuma had pointed out to her the way Takara seemed to flee at the sight of any clan higher-ups.

"She does that?" she asked at the time, not looking entirely surprised. But then again, she rarely did look surprised; her face was often a neutral mask, and whenever it wasn't, it was plastered with a fake looking smile that he attributed to her father with zero hesitation.

He confirmed his observation, and then explained how her behavior would seem suspicious, especially considering the fact that she wasn't a Senju. Nuka smiled at him easily, looking as if she understood his point of view as easily as she could breathe.

…Although, that might actually be a bad comparison. Butsuma retracted the thought when he remembered breathing was something she'd always had trouble with.

"I get it." She confirmed, her smile fading, "But why are you tellin' me?"

Butsuma crouched down to her level, eliciting a scowl from the blonde that was gone almost as soon as it appeared.

"I'd like you to ask a favor. I've heard you're a bit more observant than your sister, so I want you to be careful around Takara and tell me if she says or does anything out of the ordinary."

A look of confusion and mild concern crossed the girl's face and she tilted her head.

"Do you know where she came from?" she asked curiously. Butsuma closed his eyes, his shoulders sinking a bit in slight disappointment.

"I do not." He admittedly grudgingly, "But that is exactly why I want to keep an eye on her. You know about the Uchiha, don't you?"

Nuka tensed up, visibly surprised that he'd asked so explicitly. Her father often tried fairly hard to shield her from anything that happened outside the Senju compound walls—whereas it seemed her uncle just didn't care. Protecting a child's innocence, in his eyes, only made it harder for them to adapt when they inevitably faced the horrors of the war they were forever entangled in. All the same, Nuka knew exactly what was happening.

"Yeah." She replied, not knowing where he was going.

"I have little doubt in my mind that the boy who knew Takara's name was an Uchiha." He explained, watching as her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates in alarm.

"But—but aren't they…?" Nuka could've sworn that they were related. But it was hard to say. Even Takara's word was uncertain since she claimed that she didn't remember anything. They could be related, but they very well might have just been two people who knew each other by name and nothing more.

But now that her uncle suggested they might associated with one of their greatest enemies, Nuka numbly tried hoping the latter was the truth. Because if the former was true, she and her sister might as well have targets painted right on their backs. She couldn't afford to just hope for the best.

"If the girl is an Uchiha then it will be revealed in time. We are keeping a constant eye on the boy. If Takara is lying about her amnesia, then I need you to find out and tell me immediately." He instructed, his niece nodding sharply in response.

"If you are ever inclined to believe that she knows more than she is letting on, you mustn't confront her about it. However patient the enemy may be, they will always lash out when they feel cornered. Stay close enough to get the information you need, but keep your distance. Do you understand?"

Nuka nodded once again, more slowly simply because she felt completely uneasy about following his orders. But it wasn't like he was wrong—he raised plenty of good points and it was probably for the best that she was careful around her new friend. She understood his point of view perfectly. But that didn't make her feel any better.

Children should never have to worry about other children threatening their entire family. It just wasn't right. That was the source of her apprehension. Her uncle ended the conversation, leaving Nuka overcome with an unexplainable loneliness, sorely wishing that she lived in a different world completely.


We ended up finding Takara by the pond that day, leaning over and looking into it with no small amount of frustration as she attempting to flatten her hair down. It was naturally thick and coarse, and now that it was so short, there was little hope in terms of trying to tame it.

"What's wrong? I like it that way, Taka."

Takara gasped, startled so intensely that she nearly fell right into the pond. It was my own pale hands that grabbed at her to pull her back, kind of expecting that reaction beforehand. Tōka stood behind me, grinning shamelessly as if she didn't mean to sneak up on her on purpose.

"Don't fall in the water." I advised sarcastically. Takara's face scrunched up in a half-scowl, like she was hesitant to glare at us completely in case it would offend us or something.

"…What are you guys doing?" she asked quietly as Tōka sat down at the water's edge and I picked up a rock, examining it for a minute before throwing it. It skipped twice.

"Nothing." My sister replied bitterly, leaning back on her elbows. "Hashirama and Tobirama are always busy training, Papa's on a mission and I'm tired of doing chores for Aunt Miya!" she kicked the water for dramatic effect. I glared at her.

"I'm always the one doing chores for Aunt Miya, you weirdo. And taking care of Kawarama." I felt the need to clarify. It was hard work! I deserved some credit.

She just stuck her tongue out at me. I rolled my eyes.

"…Hashirama has a mission soon, too." I commented more seriously, turning my gaze back to the water. Takara blinked, giving me a curious look. She always seemed to hesitate before asking anything that concerned my cousins.

"Are you worried?" she finally asked. I took a deep breath, letting it out with a huff.

"I'm always worried." I admitted like it didn't matter. The way I disregarded it seemed to worry her, and her eyebrows were drawn together in blatant concern.

"W-well, he isn't going alone right?" she asked in hopes of potentially making me feel better.

"Papa's going with him." Tōka chimed in, "And he's an awesome medic! So Hashirama should be fine, even if he gets hurt."

Ever the optimist. I continuously reminded myself of the same thing every time I started to worry about him—but no matter what, I could never seem to shake the urge to protect him despite the fact that it was physically impossible for me to really do much of anything. I was probably about as protective of him and his brothers as his own mother was, so I worried nonetheless.

Takara cracked a smile at my sister's brighter outlook.

"Oh, then I'm sure he'll be safe." The worry ebbed from her face, "He really is a great medic."

I rested my hands on my hips as I contemplated the thought for the umpteenth time. Takara obviously held my father in high regard considering he'd pulled her from what was probably the brink of death, and he was one of the few people she seemed comfortable around. It wasn't much of a surprise. I would imagine that having such a caring father was a blessing in a world like this, and I definitely didn't take that for granted.

"I know," I started, "But then that just makes me worry about him instead." I admitted with a hint of frustration.

It was frustrating because I knew that losing my father would probably wreck me completely. It was frustrating how I could remember things from when I was a baby that I was sure people typically forgot. I remembered the first time I saw him, blurry face and all, and the way he cried when I cried.

I scrunched up my face in distaste at my own thoughts. Was it really normal to remember those things?

No, I don't think it was. I could remember as a baby the way he paid twice as much attention to me and how I reacted to certain things. Because he knew it wasn't normal, either. But he never pushed me to talk about any of those things. I could feign ignorance as a baby because I couldn't really speak, but I was old enough now that there was no communication barrier, and he still never pried.

A surge of guilt washed over me then. So what if it wasn't normal, how abnormally aware of the world I was? How it felt like I knew certain members of my family before I'd even met them? He would never think any less of me. If anything, he would help me try to figure out why I felt that way. There was no reason for me to keep anything from him anymore.

Picking up another rock, I decided that the next time he came home I would talk to him about everything. I would tell him I could remember everything. The fire, seeing him, meeting my sister for the first time. I'd tell him that nothing in this world felt right. That I didn't feel like I was supposed to be here. And that everything about it sounded like I've heard it all before—like I was looking at it all from outside my body. I didn't understand why I felt that way, but I knew he wouldn't judge me.

This time when I threw the rock, it skipped all the way to the other end of the pond. Takara had said something that went in one ear and out the other; something assuring her confidence in my father's ability, most likely—so I just looked at her and smiled.

"You're probably right. I don't think his division is even supposed to fight anyone directly anyway."

Takara seemed relieved at my change of heart, giving me a hopeful look. I'm sure she didn't want to believe anything bad would happen to him either.

It was hard to scrutinize her the way my uncle had asked me to when she looked at me like that. She just seemed… genuinely good. Like there couldn't be an evil bone in her body. Looking at the burn scars that littered her arms made me feel the need to shelter her the same way I wanted to protect my cousins. But that was more because I felt sorry for her, especially when she looked at something relatively harmless with wide, fearful coal black eyes.

Nonetheless, I felt a little better knowing that my father never fought on the front lines. Perks of being a medic, I suppose. I cleared my throat.

"Anyway," I redirected the conversation, "Do you not like your hair, or what? I worked really hard on that, you know." I teased. Takara looked surprised and had the decency to blush in the slightest.

"I-I, uh. It's not that," she insisted, "It just didn't stand up this much when you cut it…"

"It looks like a major case of bed head!" Tōka exclaimed, making Takara even more flustered. Fortunately she had learned that not everything Tōka said should be taken seriously, and she even ended up grinning despite her embarrassment.

"I think it's cute that way." I speculated. "It makes you look… the opposite of how you act."

My sister crossed her arms and nodded. Takara gave me an unsure look.

"…Is that a good thing? Do you mean it makes me look like a boy?"

"No, no, no. Well, it does a little. But that's not what I meant." I clarified, "It's a good thing because that way, you can catch people off guard with your personality."

Takara blinked. My sister looked equally as confused, but she gave a questionable nod nonetheless, always at the ready to back me up.

"You know," I crossed my arms. "Like a scarecrow. Birds think it can hurt them, but it really couldn't hurt a fly."

"Oh I get it!" Tōka exclaimed, finally making the connection. "So like the opposite of you?"

Then it was my turn to give her a confused look. Huh?

"Uh, what do you mean?" I asked clueless.

"You know," she copied me, "How you look really harmless, but you're actually really smart and grown up and good at things."

"Oh," I feigned shock, "You think I'm really smart and grown up and good at things?"

"That's what I said, stupid!" she trapped me in a headlock, messing up my hair and putting no real pressure on my windpipe for obvious reasons. Takara looked at us in amusement, looking like she had to hold back a laugh before her eyes flickered over my shoulder, her expression abruptly turning serious.

Noticing her quick change of mood, I looked behind me to see a head of white hair a ways away walking in our direction. A grin quickly broke out on my face as I shook off my sister in favor of the new arrival.

"Tobirama!" I ran towards him, closing the gap between us in no time at all. The boy was actually pretty dirty, but I didn't care considering I hadn't seen him in over a week. And despite not being the affectionate cousin, he actually hugged me back this time. Surprise, surprise.

"I missed you," I greeted, letting him go. "How's training?"

"Okay." His response was short, as expected, "What are you doing?"

The question was directed at me but he was looking pointedly at Takara, who averted her eyes and visibly fidgeted under his scrutinizing stare.

It was always a little weird when the two of them were around each other. I was sure that Hashirama had politely and enthusiastically introduced himself to her once, much to her alarm, but Tobirama had never really done anything like that. He recognized her from the time he had left me with the medics as one of the outsiders we'd saved, but he never went out of his way to welcome her. He made it obvious that he didn't trust her, and that made Takara uncomfortable, so they had a tendency to avoid each other whenever possible.

Well, sort of. Tobirama never avoided her, because he wanted to make sure my sister and I were alright. It was Takara that preferred to avoid him. Really, he was just one of many people she preferred to avoid.

"Just skipping rocks. Mine made it to the other side." I mentioned knowing Tobirama's standards were probably so high he wouldn't even be impressed, though I didn't really care. The corner of his mouth twitched up in the slightest, and he patted me on the head.

"That's great." He humored me in a flat, neutral tone. I gave an overly exaggerated frown, and he crossed his arms.

"Big brother's leaving on his mission tonight instead of in the morning. You should probably go see him." He brought up, giving me a look of mild concern, "I don't know if uncle Atsu will be back here before they leave though."

My expression fell, as did Tōka's once she caught up to us. We exchanged a confused glance.

"I thought they weren't supposed to leave for another week?" my sister voiced my thoughts exactly. Tobirama looked away for a moment, scratching the back of his head like he didn't even know what the hurry was either.

"They weren't. But our runners have been catching people getting pretty close to the compound, so dad says we need to send more people out sooner."

"Oh." I said in disappointment, "And you don't think my dad will be back?"

Tobirama didn't look very happy to be giving me bad news. He actually looked worried, like he was afraid giving me bad news might hurt me physically somehow. But I guess that wasn't a huge surprise; in the past it was always him who found me when I would have serious issues breathing, so I assumed he might just be used to being more careful with me than with other people.

I didn't normally like that, but I adored my cousins and I liked being reminded that they cared.

"Sorry." He apologized, "I'll be able to stay for a little while though."

He sounded unsure about it, like he knew he couldn't provide much comfort. I did managed to crack a smile though, feeling better in the slightest.

"That will help." I assured him, grabbing his hand. "I want to go talk to your brother."

Tobirama nodded, ready to follow and looking almost eager to get us to leave. I looked back to the pond to say goodbye to Takara, only to frown seeing that she had already disappeared. Tōka looked around in similar confusion, obviously having not noticed her leave either.

Hmm. Well, wasn't that odd.

"She's gone," Tobirama sensed, "Come on."

He urged us along despite our confusion, which we eventually let go in favor of seeing Hashirama before our family threw him onto the battlefield. I tried to ignore the apprehension that refused to let go of its death grip on me; holding onto Tobirama fortunately managed to mitigate a good amount of it.

.


A/N: Okay, apologizing for several things here. First of all would be for the stupid long wait for this chapter, and second of all for the fact that this is just a really short uneventful filler and nothing really happened...big things are going to happen soon though so a filler was necessary. You know.

Anyway. The next chapter will be out faster than this one came out. I left an explanation for that on my profile so if ya wanted to know what the deal was, it's there. Promise to be back soon! Thanks to everyone who reviewed and is still sticking with me. :-)