Author's Note: We have forty-four chapters for 4 sounds like the Japanese word for 'death'. We went well past 24, which sounds like 'double death', and I wasn't going to leave it on 43 for all that long either. So death and death again had to be it.
Terazawa woke again, the taste of ash and sour earth in her mouth and an almost crippling soul-deep depression dragging at her 'flesh' without a clear reason to feel such lacing through her mind.
…other than the fact she was occupying an entirely dead corpse. Beyond just her own knowledge of her death, this form was obviously entirely inert in both chakra and any sign of life.
Understandable, but distasteful.
Instead of dwelling on that disturbing side-effect of being denied her rightful death and her current state, she sat up to complete whatever aim she had been returned to handle.
No temporary paralysis, interesting.
No control script held at the ready to be stabbed into her mind either.
Even more interesting.
A cozy little cave system, only large enough to comfortably fit her entire childhood home within. Pitch dark around the edges of a small cheerily burning campfire that flicked light over the weapons and tools neatly set on shelves and hooks that were the only decoration, met her tired eyes. Three individual chakra signatures, however two of them attempted to remain entwined in the root systems around this pocket of hidden air deep in the ground.
Then there was that weird, mutated lotus-tree behind the only visible person awaiting her here in the heart of the earth.
It was not her darling nephew or his delightful teammates that called her forth, for some emergency combat need. Nor had her agency been stolen from her, brought back to be someone else's soldier in a conflict beyond her knowledge. Both situations she semi-suspected would happen long before her own death, and this was decidedly not either.
Uchiha Madara quietly waited across the bare earthen chamber, his white-streaked shaggy hair concealing not only his face but most of his now withered form. No matter how aged his flesh had become that chakra signature of gusting burning winds that wound tightly through him was hard to misidentify.
Seated on a rough-cut section of tree, now ancient and leathery in appearance despite apparently being seated for so long the strange gigantic lotus-plant behind him had grown into him.
…or, despite attaching himself to a strange underground plant-like structure in a way so he could not move from his position.
"Madara-sama?"
He wordlessly extended an arm and drew back his dark-colored sleeves, revealing the absolutely gruesome bruising tracing a strange path on his right inner elbow down to his inner forearm. Papery translucent skin showed the damage in a lurid painting in the flickering light.
…fair enough.
One possibly couldn't obtain good medical help when all one did was remain underground for years and had only monster plants surrounding him. Probably best to not rely on the creatures still cautiously shadowing her every shift and movement for assistance.
"List for me your symptoms." Tera asked as she left behind the oddly built wooden bed she had been summoned at, aiming to inspect him herself and crossing the little chamber in less than five steps.
"Not going to ask where I've been all these years?" Quietly drawled the still living last Uchiha warlord of the Warring Clans era, flatly ignoring her request.
"Obviously, here. I am dead, Madara-sama. What do I care for the hows and whys of anything? It is the right of the living to demand explanations and reasonings to find the truth of things." He didn't need to tell her, she knew the moment she got close enough to clearly see the 'bruising' and identify the problem. "Tell your other two lurking minions they need to be better at keeping pests out of here, if you are going to fail to defend yourself from a rat bite."
Leprosy was a disease Nara Shikatema practically eradicated with his innovation of antibiotics. An effort started as soon as possible after the first epidemic the Leaf suffered was finally in hand.
It barely took five years before the fourteenth Nara Clan head finished his greatest if mostly unknown life's work. Employing his antibiotics hidden in various 'herbal compounds' in the background of nobles, samurai, shinobi, and civilians alike who would not trust him at his word to use it for the disease that made body parts rot off otherwise healthy people.
Tera only knew of the old Nara's aims due to questioning just why her clan had to make up all that black hellebore root syrup he mainly hid it in for distribution. It was useful as a strong purgative, yes… black hellebore root syrup had no other medical application, and the rest of the plant was too toxic for any other beneficial use no matter the dilution.
How the hell Madara developed leprosy… he had senses more than fine enough to catch even the tiny movements of fleas from such wretched creatures.
Tera's cool dead fingers hesitated over the pulse in his afflicted arm's wrist.
Black-and-copper flicked up to meet the… cloth covered empty sockets where his eyes no longer were in his wizened face.
No, Madara had 'died' before Shikatema finished crushing leprosy into dust under his heel. Few knew the real results of the Leaf's first medical genius life's work, or that the Nara had such a plan in mind at all if he could only find a suitable cure. If anyone could learn of it post the Akimichi-Yamanaka-Nara tactical operation to eradicate the disease, via the remnants she had full faith weren't whole enough to betray Shikatema's intentions even now so long after his death, it would be this shinobi.
Blinded or not by his own hand… or not. Tera suspected there was nothing wrong with this man's mind as he was now, aside the obvious lurking influences around them.
His brother had 'outlived' him, after all.
"Izuna missed you terribly, Madara-sama. For all he was a fine Uchiha Clan head, and an even better match for Tobirama than Hashirama, your loss was something he never could get over fully."
Why did he infect himself with leprosy?
It was easily handled these later days of his life, with just the correct amount of pills.
However remote they were now, for leprosy to be a still transmitted disease, the quietly Yamanaka 'leaked' and now widely known cure to the viral infection should have been a clear remedy that did not require her assistance.
Molds.
Ah, she'd need to borrow the scroll from the Poison Library that held the details of just which rot she needed to make up a dosage of antibiotics. She didn't recall what it was right this moment, or even the characteristics that could differentiate the right type of mold from a less beneficial strain.
It would be easier to evade the security in her clan's Library than it would in the Nara's. She at least knew the Sekanji security measures, she contributed some additions herself.
"I was growing erratic, Tera-sensei." Eventually the elderly shinobi spoke slowly, still quiet and somewhat tired in tone. Thready voice slightly muffled with age now or not, it was not rough enough to show a long period of silence as a hermit might suffer from. "I was a true danger to his health and safety. To Hashirama's, to my clansmen, to everyone around me. I left, a clean parting for all involved arranged to leave no doubts behind me, however little you all might have appreciated the method much as I do now as clear-headed as I can manage. Even now I cannot claim to be safe to be around."
"Luckily for 'us' all, then, that I am dead and do not care for things like 'safety' and 'assault' anymore." She really didn't, her death denied and soul dragged back to the realm of the living severely impacted her own sense of self-preservation.
There wasn't much of a point to strive against others or the situation to preserve her form or self. The dead could not die again, and the poor soul sacrificed to give her a physical form was well past the point of caring.
"Am I allowed to leave to source your cure, or am I to manufacture it here?" A kernal of information Tera didn't know unfurled in her mind, a certainty and a finely crafted plan etched in wind-fanned embers made by a war-born tactician suggested without words between one blink and another he never took. "I can do either, one a matter of efficient use of time and the other merely a secured matter of secrecy."
He was the one to find out she had a terrible weakness to Yin Release compulsions, she was unsurprised to find he would make use of that information for his own aims when he felt it was needed.
"Zetzu will obtain what you need to make it here." Madara ordered in a firmer tone, almost visibly leaving his regrets and melancholy thoughts behind him now she had what he wanted to pass on and a reason to be manufactured. He tilted his unseeing visage to indicate a dip in his various weapons left on the walls, presumably a passage to another chamber in this cave system.
"How is your diet, Madara-sama?" Tera purred wickedly, already knowing he didn't eat from how far his body had already cannibalized all the mineral and vitamin content he had once.
The body before her was only alive due to the constant trickle of chakra leaking from the strange arrangement behind him into his chakra pathway system.
"…disuse has lost me most of my teeth. I don't eat anymore, Tera-sensei."
"Would you like something prepared for you? I require something edible to rot for your medication."
Madara's nose wrinkled in faint disgust. "Something light, sensei. Since you're going to bitch until I agree anyway."
"Quite delightful that I am preempted the… unfortunate methods of securing an amiable patient from an unwilling one."
"…quite." Echoed the elderly shinobi bitterly in his enterally bitchy manner when forced to be polite by circumstance, rather than by his own decision.
Now, how best to accomplish this and his orders together?
"Tea, Madara-sama?" Tera inquired pleasantly this time as she sat back on her heels and left him his personal space again, distantly amused that she'd finally get him to take a cup with her so long after her own death. "We have some days before I can even begin to treat you."
He remained the only 'Founder' she had never gotten to share a cup with in life, even if he could bring himself to drink her brews now.
This Uchiha had done everything from throwing his own brother at her in distraction to flat out refusing to actually drink the liquid to avoid it if he could not evade her invitations. His war-tuned, and rightful, paranoia had not let him drop his guard enough to take anything that any Sekanji clansman had handed him at face value.
Not even a simple bottle of aspirin.
Izuna was always the one to refill his prescription, hidden among the monthly draw of medical supplies the Uchiha Clan regularly got from the stockpiles to refresh their on-hand medications. She had known perfectly well how much they should get every month just as this man's heir and brother had, yet filled it one extra anyway.
For if that was the only way she could get him to care for himself using her compounds, then so be it.
While at bad points he had occasionally lowered himself to request some from her… he would be the one to shake out a measure from her bottle of them and he never took it in her presence.
Very smart of him, for even after settling into Konoha they still had occasions of one Sekanji poison master dosing another in pique no matter the obstacles set in their way by clan or village. Younger clansmen tended to poison their teammates more often than their more experienced fellows, which was the risk every shinobi of the Leaf ran when attempting to bond with her clanmates.
Strange how this world turned, and that he chose to summon her instead of Shikatema to tend to his illness. Stranger still that he had not chosen to implant a control seal script into her 'borrowed' flesh to ensure she would not poison him even now.
She would be a poor Sekanji indeed to be thwarted from killing someone just because right now she had no poison made up to do it. That would be merely a matter of time once she could identify something suitable, and he likely knew that too.
Madara practically wilted in place, as much as he could while holding himself stiffly upright to enable his connection with the strange plant-statue behind him. "Fine."
(ooo000ooo)
"Of course the village-system is flawed, Madara-sama." This Terazawa scoffed in that damnably annoying way of all her Sekanji when they believed the other was quite a bit dim, if not outright ignorant. "That is an unfortunate reality when you translate an idea to something physical, nevermind attempting to share that theoretical idea with others that do not always value the same concerns as one another."
If only for the singularly refreshing experience to speak with 'someone' not Zetsu, an irritatingly slimy creature born from his will in some ways that continually just agreed with him, Madara would ignore that attitude. Just as he was ignoring the hot 'tea' she pressed into his empty hands, however strange it was to hold a teacup after so many years.
It smelled of tea, and he had more than enough experience with 'tea' and 'poisoned tea' from all those meetings with noble factions he had done in his time… he was still not drinking it.
She had always had that outspoken trait to her in life when anyone attempted to elicit her opinion, he had not expected differently now in her undeath.
"So how would you fix it, sensei?"
"I haven't the foggiest idea." Dismissed the poison mistress flatly, likely considering the pot of tea with that air of absent distraction lacing her tone. "People are not my subject of study, and diplomacy was always irritating to need for all I knew the rules. As a matter of fact… people are irritating wretches. I am fine with people as an abstract idea, less so when they have opinions and requirements of me or expectations and needs of our shared spaces. As when they then reveal they have rather insulting assumptions of what is all around them or the purpose of some idea or another."
He… vaguely recalled that.
Not that she had been so direct with her unsolicited opinions in life, instead approaching the issues and problems that so opposed her from the side or backwards instead of directly. Either her undeath had freed her from any social or reputation-based concerns, or he merely only had to ask her as he never had when she lived.
Madara hadn't greatly concerned himself with other clans in the Leaf past the point he was certain they would pull their weight as expected of them more or less reliably.
His own had required attention, there always had been an ever mounting need in other administrative areas Hashirama had been so pathetically grateful for any assistance in when he had the time, then there was always another newly arrived clan in need of sorting before long. Then the students, the council matters, then the clanless civilians and shinobi needed someone to hear them, and on until even the black moods and blinding migraines took that slight joy from him too.
The Sekanji had not been the only badly wounded shinobi clan barely hanging on he and Hashirama had invited in, nor were they ever been more than mildly annoying with their proclivities to apply toxins to everything. Including themselves, whomever was around, and more often whatever they could get their hands upon. Terazawa had conformed gratefully to reasonable requests, as she had with the requirements of her clan's 'poison mastery', and discharged what duties were expected of her with no need of additional fuss.
Once they had been settled in and he had a measure of character of the woman that once accidentally saved his brother's life, Madara hadn't really given her or the Sekanji Clan much thought again. Unless she approached him for a specific concern, as in when one of his own clansmen interfered with her heir.
She, and they, never needed his attention as others had.
"But you agree it's flawed."
A few seconds of pure silence passed, where Terazawa didn't move so much as a muscle to face him.
As useless as that was right now, while he was blinded.
Nor did her cool and rain-laden windy chakra twitch in his senses, so no attempt of falsehood or unease in this topic from the undead woman. If that remained a viable way to discern her intentions now, so far gone in flesh.
"Diplomacy by another term is 'to reach an accord between two opposing factions'. By the end, whomever's you wish to judge by, the village was no longer Hashirama's or your own ideal version. It was what all of us thought to be the ideal version, and for terribly flawed creatures like humans… who very rarely ever truly understand what it is they desire?"
"Very pretty." Madara drawled dryly. "That did not answer the question."
"It is flawed, Madara-sama, for as long as the impulse of 'fuck you, got mine' remains a commonly shared outlook. Even Hashirama saw that truth before his end." Obligingly rephrased the poison mistress tiredly, and rather uncharacteristically crass for her usual wont unless pressed beyond her usual strictly polite manners. "Are you attempting to suggest that at the time, you were fully willing to embrace the members of the Hyūga Clan as no different than a brother with nary a concern? Without knowing their mettle and commitments to the village post-joining?"
"Hell no."
"Exactly. Hindsight is always clear as a bell, foresight is a murky fog of possibilities clouded even more with the risk and danger that comes with expecting something from an unknown quality. Could things have been done better? Of course. Did we know that at the time, what was to come or which needs were actually more important than allowing another to make an issue out of something less so out of their pride or traditional clan's values? We did not. So yes, it is flawed and in need of adjustment. Getting such done when so many call the Leaf home and assume they prefer it as it is will be the issue now."
He attempted to fit that opinion into less abstract terms, to highlight the 'flaws' as a master in the art of poisons and chemical sabotage saw it. "I expected more of a fight to convince you there were problems."
"Oh? Whatever gave you the idea that I would not see the same troubles as you spotted, however earlier than I that you could see it?"
Prior experience.
Hashirama wouldn't entertain even the mere mention the Leaf was perhaps getting a little skewed the longer they worked on it with so many other voices added in to clutter his mind. Always too excited to reach out to yet another clan or group, to work them into the whole as quickly as he could to reach out again. Too focused out than in until, apparently, too late.
Once things stabilized somewhat, even Izuna's skepticism hadn't endured as apparently the Senju and Uchiha had enough to find common ground upon no matter the death they dealt one another before it. His brother had gone into the idea of 'peace' expecting ruin and destruction to be the inevitable result, and came out in too little time pleasantly surprised and more hopeful than Madara had been for most of his early adult life.
He hadn't dared breathe his concerns outside the Senju Clan head or his own heir, not if there was the risk his souring opinion might fully ruin the village when it could otherwise be saved. "Isn't one usually defensive of one's home? You made it your own as much as everyone else had."
"…home." Mused the echo of a fellow clan head, one of the least aggravating he had known of even now denied her earned rest to tend to him. "To me, Madara-sama, home is not a physical place. Land can and had been left behind, new places found in their place. Structures broken and remade. The village was convenient, it allowed me to salvage my clan to survive instead of suffering a slow painful death of attrition. To share and pool resources with you and the others was uniquely new and interesting for a time, the shared security was a saving grace given so charitably I will never soil by attempting to refute it. I am fond of the idea of the Leaf but, having lived there until my death, I am painfully aware that the village I joined and the village I died for were not one in the same. Even still, I do not regret anything. It was not for my clan or the village that I did what I could for it."
Now there was movement, as her dead body twisted to behold him face on instead of speak to the side as she watched whatever had her attention before. However little he could return the consideration as he was right now.
"No, the village was not home. My home was my little sister, then later my delightful nephew and heir. My home was shared by four shinobi of rather awesome power that invited me in from the cold to dwell safely under your guard. Yourself, Izuna, Hashirama, and Tobirama. I found my home shared with Mito and Kesai, both in battle or out of it. With Danzō and Koharu cluttering up my study to learn how to manipulate and poison others both. In the quietly relieved regard my samurai and the Hatake Clan shinobi found in one another for their shared values, that I never could fully understand no matter how hard I tried. From helping the Nara clansmen find their herbs in the Poison Library and saving them weeks or months of effort. Having my breakthroughs to share with them in turn, from sharing my successes in studying the Mouketon with the Senju so they would not lose their kekkei genkai, from measuring out medication to save another from illness or death. Though I may not appreciate people, Madara-sama, it was in those same selectively important people I found a place I could call my home. Then I slowly lost it, one by one, to battle and warfare to defend what was left. I could have continued even so… I chose not to. I chose to die with the last of my home."
Tobirama woke again, a disorienting snap of reality suddenly unfurling in his mind's eye that left him both achingly aware and scrambling to understand what events were happening around him.
Mountains to the north, meaning directly west of the Land of Fire or directly south of Iron. Either southern Rain or the north of River, perhaps the southern edge of Stone, as it was not as chilled to be so far north of the Leaf to be close to Hot Water or Waterfall.
Summoned on his feet, already in the midst of battle. His summoning back from the Pure Lands was witnessed by only five individuals, the other thirteen were too focused on their own opponents and situations.
Even as he started to log the physical movements surging around him, he had to evade three attempts to return him and his borrowed body to death again. Stealing a kunai from a shinobi that overextended their reach in hopes of inflicting a serious wound, Tobirama weaved between the remaining blades brandished at him and 'borrowed' the local river for a moment.
Lifting the water right out of the riverbed, forming it into a familiar dragon-shape he had long since trained himself to do automatically without thought, the mostly formless suiton chakra construct surged forth and served adequate to defend himself with in the lack of any other weapon at hand. His own variant of Hashirama's Mokuton finished the job neatly, winding hardy vines around the fallen to ensure none were able to lash out before being secured by the living for whatever their fates may be.
Three shinobi sporting the insignia of the Leaf capitalized on the backwash of the river naturally returning back to it's banks to finish off their own individual conflicts, not reacting nearly enough for this to be an unusual occurrence.
One of them, with the silver-white hair of a Hatake clansman trailing behind him, immediately split off to reinforce Orochimaru's perilous position against a quartet of suicidally intent ninja sporting Sand's insignia but armed with equipment more seen in Rain.
Tobirama very nearly followed the Hatake, held back only from his long-familiarity of Sekanji and their habits in battle.
He was uncertain if a toxin would linger past his summoning to harm the continued existence of whomever he had usurped the body of, and the situation while chancy was not dire enough for him to risk it regardless.
Indeed, the next second saw two of the young Sekanji Head's opponents suddenly falter without obvious reasons. Another fell to the jian wielded by the kenjutsu using poison master, the last to the glowing white tanto thrust from the Hatake, while those other two succumbed to whichever poison that had leached their lives away.
Those four falling almost together made the rest of the hostile forces immediately retreat, to some signal Tobirama was too out of date to catch himself.
"Nidiame-sama, excuse me." A Hyūga kunoichi muttered respectfully, aiming for some surviving bodies behind him dragged from where they fell due to a section of the river becoming displaced under his influence. "Please leave the rivers where they are for now."
No surprise, but his form still gained some ill-concealed fascination from the younger ninja also bending to post-battle tasks as medical aid or collecting all steel lost into the scraggly growth at the base of these mountains.
This was not the first time young Orochimaru had summoned him or another deceased shinobi forth.
Though, it was still annoying to be subjected yet again to the Hyūga Clan's disdain for all elemental chakra use. He had nothing but a stolen kunai, what else did she think he would do to defend himself?
Wisely not asking the question, Tobirama instead moved out of her way to speak with the shinobi most likely to have summoned him back for this glancing conflict. His time in office had passed and he was no longer the Senju Clan heir or head, he did not need to sooth feathers or address obvious biases in diplomatic terms anymore.
Orochimaru whirled on him, seething brass-bright yellow set in an infuriated expression that had him immediately searching their surroundings for some threat. "I could not reach my lady aunt."
"…this fits her restrictions?" Mito informed him of Terazawa's words to the children after that one dinner not long after his brother's death, and he had given a passing thought of making a limitation of his own to the clearly highly intelligent Sekanji heir aiming for his research logs to arm himself against the possibility of future what ifs.
Tobirama eventually had not, for he truly didn't mind the thought. The man grown from that self-possessed and frightfully intelligent child had not just contented himself with the work he had done before him, the kinjutsu had been refined and fine tuned for more than he had intended it for.
The body he occupied was not freshly killed, it lived. His own if contaminated chakra signature nearly concealed it entirely, made up mostly of his own water nature but containing echos of a sacrifice who was more doton-natured entwined with what he knew was natural chakra stitching them together. Even so corrupted he could still separate where he ceased and that less water-natured and more harsh dry wind-life still remained. His mind and actions had not been restricted and leashed to another's will, agency left to his own discretion.
He wondered what side effects the subject would retain post-summoning.
The Hatake sheathed his tanto in a rough and distracted gesture, interrupting what the young Sekanji might have replied with. "Nevermind your performance issues, Orochimaru. Will he live?"
Oddly, against expectations for what Tobirama knew of his clansmen, Orochimaru didn't verbally bite the head off of whomever was interrupting his methodical assessment of issues from urgent to minor before they were ready for 'post-battle socializing'. Brass yellow eyes rolled in his skull instead, sardonic and entirely unimpressed but not all that hostile in it. "Calm yourself, Sakumo. As long as the Nidaime remains standing, the life he guards will be preserved. He will require extensive medical aid regardless, but we can at least secure it beforehand instead of straining to supply it in the field as we are now."
"I'd rather not spark off the Third Great Shinobi War from getting Chiyo-sama's son killed. When he had nothing to do with our mission."
"…were your opponents not Sand shinobi?"
"That is the issue, Uncle Tobi." Sourly revealed the young shinobi, not sheathing his own long blade nor making any move to do so either. "They appear so, yet use Stone regulations and signals. Yet they also laid in wait in the rivers, not the very earth. Then while they utilized straightforward ambush tactics in aims of murder… they also extensively used high-cost genjutsu to attempt to spark a conflict between us and a newfound ally by having a high-ranked jonin accidentally attack an equally high-ranked individual of another village."
Impersonating another faction to evade blame if one failed was a valid tactic, annoying as it was to deal with in the moment. "Sloppy."
"Almost not. Spreading around whom they used and what parts from each means we now have too many possibilities and little to confirm it through. Especially in the field as we are now."
Hatake Sakumo made a disgruntled huff, shifting now his concerns had been at least addressed to adding his senses to those pulling guard until the medics finished their emergency first aid. "Likely due to the whole kerfuffle we did in response to Cloud's bullshit, someone is attempting to not be subjected to 'Extreme Leaf Diplomacy' measures."
Tobirama made a light noise of inquiry, though he was unwilling to directly question either apparently senior Leaf shinobi awaiting their subordinates to be ready to continue their mission just in case it was not the first time he had asked. Or if either did not wish to explain.
He may be curious, but it was a passing thing rather than a necessity. He would not recall the information, the kinjutsu would only summon the version of him fresh from his very last moment of life and he would only know what he had then.
"Sarutobi-sensei decided to take a… leaf, out of Hashirama-sama's rulebook." Purred the Sekanji wickedly, now smirking at the raised eyebrow the undead shinobi treated him to for it. "Or perhaps Madara-sama's. He, and the others that survived your last stand with my lady aunt, invaded Cloud with a literal army snuck up to their very doorstep to finally obtain the peace treaty and alliance you were intent upon, Uncle Tobi."
…Tera would not be impressed regardless, if he took how utterly unimpressed she had been after he and Izuna had to retreat after that first attempt and their deaths on the second as an example. Using stealth to hide a diplomatic overture after two previous failures was no surprise, but the numbers reported being hidden for one single treaty request was surprising.
Perhaps that was why it succeeded where he failed. Twice.
Tobirama held his silence again, more for the less powerful chakra signatures to make their own reports to both living men. Sakumo received the news of two of his subordinates not being fit to continue their mission with a tight expression, and Orochimaru briefly debated with him the merits of 'trading' two of his own to the other Leaf team as they were intending to return to the village.
With 'the Nidaime', to give the body he occupied the medical attention he required in a hospital instead of out in the wilds.
A slight reshuffling of personnel and a jury rigged stretcher, the Hatake quietly thanking the Sekanji for diverting himself and his squad to his aid before he took his rearranged group on, then he was invited to join the startlingly older than him poison master he recalled only as a child for the lengthy trip 'home'.
As if he had the choice.
Though he did, actually. There were no commands impressed on his will or mind, but he didn't wish to wander willfully as he was either. This body was not his, and Chiyo would possibly appreciate the prompt return of her son as soon as legitimately possible.
She was not the match to Tera in life, and he doubted she had improved all that much. Even given how much time had apparently passed if he used Orochimaru's full adult form to judge by.
Three decades, plus or minus a few years, perhaps.
Chiyo did not have an ancestral library of all poisons an entire clan of shinobi had ever gotten their pale paper-white hands upon to guide her development. Without a pre-prepared ambush site to hide her weapons within or attempt to lay down her self-taught seals, her puppetry would be merely annoying at best.
Added in with her brother's skills, a minor obstacle.
However he knew better than to risk a possibly tentative alliance for selfish and ultimately pointless whims.
A pause for Orochimaru to swallow the jian he wielded once the other team was out of sight, and the whole group moved out with as much speed as the wounded or their minders could manage.
"You could not reach Tera."
"Admittedly I have not summoned her often," murmured the other shinobi as they rapidly left the mountainous range and indeed the northern reach of River behind them, "but I have. The kinjutsu did not take. I was forced to use you instead."
"Someone else has use of her soul, then. It is entirely too early to assume she has been reincarnated into her next life cycle." Tobirama concluded grimly, lightly armed if still armored yet the exertion did not remotely impact him as it had when he lived. "Even the dead cannot be in two places at the same time."
The flash of seething brass yellow shot at him over the other man's shoulder showed the Sekanji Clan Head was well aware what the lack of Tera's presence meant. Additionally, for however well he had put up a mask when he needed to deal with his fellow Leaf shinobi… Orochimaru knew full well that this meant someone had stolen a part of whatever he had of his aunt from him.
Or, perhaps, someone had acquired part of her genetic material through old battle sites. Toxic as her blood had been, it was still blood.
He highly doubted it was by grave-robbing her burial site, seeing as their clan had a law about all Sekanji being cremated without exception. Doubly so the lethally poisonous ones, and all their clansmen were poisonous in some way if they reached a decent amount of skill no matter the age.
All Sekanji also had loud and very pointed opinions on cleaning up their work so their toxicity would not harm those they held no ill will for. They were only slightly less rabid about it than Hyūga or Uchiha, but they were more grimly determined to secure their clan's corpses before their fallen could leech deadly toxins into public spaces.
Momomi would have done the prudently expected after her sister's death, which made how Orochimaru acquired his aunt's genetic material a question. A useless one, given he knew the shinobi had some already for him to expect to summon her only to fail.
No, the questions to answer now was who had Terazawa and if she was forced to do anything against her will. Then how much blame could be laid at his own feet for it.
(ooo000ooo)
Hirzuen damn near dropped his pipe into his lap at the sight of the shinobi lurking after the Sekanji Clan head barging in aiming to speak with Tsunade. "Sensei!"
Tobirama's red-and-black eyes flicked over to meet his squarely, the undead creature politely inclining his head to him in the next second. "Saru. You appear… quite old."
Spluttering, that was not quite the expected observation if he met any of his former instructors while Orochimaru insisted on resummoning the dead in a pinch, the living Hokage quietly resigned himself to being teased by all his former students and A for at least the next three years.
The same Raikage A here to witness this year's Chūnin Exams being hosted by the Leaf, but not the same A that Tobirama was attempting to seek a treaty with before his death.
He could at least comfort himself that the dead would not remember, and pretend their initial meetings went better than they did afterwards.
His contemporary was in fact snickering to himself next to his brother's side as they got absorbed in dead Leaf drama that snuck in on the sly. "Hokage-sama, I feel as if I should apologize somewhat."
"If you must, I do not blame your village for your understandable hesitance. Though I am glad to see I did not die in vain, Raikage-sama." Tobirama hitched a well-armored shoulder absently, still waiting for Tsunade to finish fussing over her husband's comfort to tend to whichever unfortunate soul had a requirement for the Nidaime to guard their health for them. "I did insist we could be very good friends to your predecessor."
"Aa… and good friends we are, Hokage-sama." A slotted a fierce if sly glance at Hiruzen for a moment. "Your successor was… even more insistent than even you were about it."
"I heard. A whole army, Saru?"
"Well," he grumped mainly to himself for little impact from the others gleefully watching from the corners of the kage's box, "it worked."
Even that didn't impact the mildly amused and somewhat lopsided smirk his former teacher wore on his cracked features. A decidedly uncommon expression on this man when unknowns were around in life, but apparently the dead were not nearly so reserved in anything.
"We got an exhibition match coming up after the kiddies are done duking it out, Hokage-sama," A invited excitedly, punching a palm hard enough to produce a cracking noise instead of a soft slap of skin on skin, "you going to stick around for it?"
Tobirama indicated the two sannin now intent on his form than Tsunade's husband with a tilt of his silver head. "Perhaps not this time, Raikage-sama."
The only reason the kages of Cloud were perfectly happy to leave their village for a few weeks, the various re-matches the Hokage and the new Raikage could get in around matters of state and alliances. Hiruzen didn't greatly mind, especially these days when his bones creaked painfully and office work consumed his daylight hours, even if his opponent was a fresher kage than him.
Strange as it was to have the 'grudge match' passed from one A to another. It kept him fit and focused while he continued to wait for a successor.
Dan's injuries when the Nidaime was first resummoned turned out to be crippling, no matter the effort Tsunade poured into both his surgery and recovery. Cutting out literal chunks of the shinobi had prevented a clean bill of health even after the Mokuton using medics got through with him. The Senju Clan had limited success with regenerating the flesh of non-clansmen, and that limitation had proved the critical last straw in his case as it had not for a Nara kunoichi used first for Sekanji Terazawa.
Sakumo was dodging him about leadership with a vengeance, insisting that if he wished for a Hatake to take up the Hokage's hat he give it instead to his clan head and elder sister Naname. Hirzuen didn't remotely mind the thought of a kunoichi Hokage, but he knew full well giving his office to the elder Hatake sibling meant the village would gain quite the irrefutable samurai-flavored streak that would not help them in dealing with the other shinobi villages.
On top of their already 'hippy-like' reputation, in that case the only other land they could successfully seek an alliance with would be Iron.
At any other time he'd do it anyway and damn the consequences, for who knew what the future would hold… but if the burgeoning negotiations with Sand fell through the brewing hostilities growing again would neatly put a stop to any possibility of friendly relations with the nomadic desert dwellers for decades.
His own three students… ah, the Leaf would not survive the sannin in charge. However much they could put aside their issues and still collaborate after years on the same team badly strained their relationships with one another, they still fought over the smallest issues. Ethics, informational security, and their own individual health were the main reasons to pick fights with one another.
After hugging her great uncle and former clan head, Tsundae drew back slightly to poke at the undead shinobi with glowing green fingers. "Who is it, Orochimaru?"
"Chiyo-baa-sama's son."
"What?"
"Yes… I have quite the report to give, Sarutobi-sensei." Observed the Snake Sannin venomously, quietly seething now as he was reminded of some associated detail. "Sakumo's squad ended up being led around by the nose for some time until I could catch up as you wanted. I barely got there in time to prevent an international incident."
At least the shinobi got there in time. Had it been any other clan's ninja, the Snake Sannin likely would have argued against finding another on-mission squad in the same area no matter how long in the field they were and possible injuries or supply needs they might require.
Hatakes and Sekanji on the other hand, liked sneakily checking up on one another if in the same area for all they would claim otherwise. As if their care for the 'other' samurai-shinobi clan in the Leaf took away from their dedication in some way, for all one was still poisonous and the other still entirely too sharp for most.
Hiruzen checked the progress of the exhibition matches still underway, then glanced at the side at his now more serious contemporary. "Would you like to sit in on this, A?"
"If you'll have me, Hiruzen."
"We likely have only just enough time before our own match to hear Orochimaru's report in." He warned the other kage, unsurprised the man rose in tandem with him. "Give us the highlights when we get back, B."
The brother of the Raikage gave him a double thumbs up and a fierce grin. "You ain't goin'a miss a thing, the B's mind is swift as on a wing."
A slapped himself in the face, breathing in harshly when his brother immediately got distracted from supposedly paying attention to jot something down on a pad of paper kept in his own jōnin vest. "That made no sense."
Tobirama was contentedly amused to merely watch Hiruzen as his contemporary kage got embroiled with a frequently repeated argument with his own brother, while the undead shinobi's great niece sought past his presence to the life his summoning preserved to determine what she'd need at the hospital. The Nidiame inclined his head in farewell to the Sandaime instead of speak, a ruefully fond smile on his face as he watched them.
"-have forgotten someone?"
"I have forgotten nothing. You! You stole her from me!"
Terazawa had a disorientating moment of bemusement welling that overtook all other senses as she logged the signatures present. Only a single one, before the darkness fell away from her as if a physical thing.
It was, a coffin in fact. A good bit of theater, but strange to be the one inside it.
Tobirama, with all the signs of an Impure Resurrection stamped on his form, glared utter outrage back. On the opposite side of some ragged field already marred with the destructive power of warring shinobi.
Not at her, but someone past her.
The sealing scripts were forcibly introduced to disable the paralyzing effects, and she had another second of bemusement as the encoded information took. "Aa… how… unfortunate."
She was not the only 'one' stolen from her delightful nephew. Mito stood at her left, another younger Uzumaki clanswoman at her right. Kushina, still dead entirely too early and barely past adulthood in form resurrected as they were, rather than at peak age as she and Mito now were.
Tera was sad to see even her own lifetime of blind effort had not spared her the pain at the hands of someone else's machinations.
"…Mito." An equally undead Hashirama whimpered sadly, beholding his lovely wife standing opposed him at Madara's beck and call now with wide sad eyes.
He was not the only one, a delightfully alive if middle-aged Fourth Hokage was watching his own dead wife with nearly visible regret. Sarutobi was deceased, as was Koharu and Homura standing at his side as they ever did in life, though Danzō was contemplatively watching next to Jirayia's side alive if ancient as dust now.
A black eyepatch covered a presumably empty socket, not bandages woven about his form to make him appear more sickly and wounded as he was. Interesting.
An underground water table swelled, and Tera swept up the war fan held only in her right to freeze the water dragon solid before Tobirama could cut short the touching reunion.
It crashed to the rock-strewn ground barely a second after emerging, shattering into slowly melting shards. "My, my. Tobi, so hasty."
"Really, brother-in-law. Did you expect us to be dealt with so easily?" Mito chimed in delightfully, reaching up to take the sealing tags from her hair buns in hand. "How… very rude. Tera, I believe he is underestimating us."
Kushina huffed out something low and disbelieving, rolling her shoulders as her own heritage came forth in shining golden chains to loop around her arms. "Boys."
"I suddenly really don't like this." Izuna commented fatalistically to the other shinobi Orochimaru presumably brought back himself. Even still, the Uchiha was pacing away from the others and held his hands at the ready to start blowing fire all over what he may reach. "Aneki, is this really necessary?"
"If you wished to use them, you should have summoned them first." Madara taunted cruelly from behind the rank of undead kunoichi he brought forth to make this fight even more painful than it had to be. "These are not women content to remain home while the men fight."
Tera cracked her fan against a convenient air current, rearranging the skies with her loaned power to whip up a literal storm overhead. Something she couldn't accomplish alive, however she wished she could do so on swelteringly hot Fire summer days.
The dry, high air lacked all but the minimum amount of water to form cloud formations… but it was very nice to create an electrical storm instead with a minimal manipulation of hot and cold air.
Perfect for when fighting against a sution expert as her own lover was. Raiton chakra was prickly to her, but she could manipulate it with just the right touch of fūton to shunt it the right ways.
Mito slid further away from the poison mistress, lines of script etching themselves underfoot with that deceivingly simple movement. Pierced through the next second with Kushina's contributions to the demand echoing in their minds, gold chakra chains anchoring parts of the script as Uzumaki were trained to do when fighting together.
"I will handle my aunt." Orochimaru snapped at the others dead or alive, bitterly and with audible seething resentment lacing his tone. "Hashirama, deal with Kushina instead. Minato, you handle Mito-baa-sama."
Adorable, if impossible to allow.
The winds gave no audible signal to start the hostilities, invisibly hammering down like a giant's fist on their rank. Izuna hurriedly lit it aflame to take control of the pressure wash, and slightly singed now the shinobi finally if regretfully moved.
Almost too late to avoid the lightning strike had it not been for a young Hatake clan shinobi with short spiky silver hair splitting it apart with a handful of his own raiton chakra formed into a blade before it could connect to the ground.
(ooo000ooo)
The Konoha Twelve uneasily watched as not only the sky split apart to thunder down in a brief blinding crash, but the earth broke as massive trees surged forth only to be set on fire in the next second then doused and frozen solid. Then all of it was smashed apart by streaks of gold, and it started again with the sky splitting more not a second later.
"Well." Tenten offered weakly to the rest of them as it seemed the world started to end on the far side of the field. "Shit."
"I vote we don't go anywhere near that." Kiba volunteered hastily, echoed with a whimpering bark from Akamaru.
Instead of crashing to the ground this time, the lightning lit up a tracing of violet chakra under what seemed half a mile of earth. It then imploded great tracks of the already unstable earth with another ear splitting crack of protest, causing a nearby mountainside to start sliding down on top of everything going on. Only to be hastily held back with a rushed riot of greenery growing into strange patterns to catch falling boulders too.
That was immediately set on fire, and drenched, then gold shattered it all into ice again. Then the landslide hit, it was all whipped into a windy tornado, and then frozen and shattered again.
Naruto cleared his throat uneasily, inching away from that side of the battle and his dad, Team Seven's teacher, and the sannin were to where the rest of the shinobi alliance were still murdering the uncountable White Zetzus. "I vote we leave them to it for a little while. You know, help out in other ways for an hour or so, just so they can get it out of their system."
"Way ahead of you." Shikamaru muttered sourly, already more than a few feet away from where they came to a stop at. Sasuke and Shino no more than three steps behind him already, Ino and Chouji scrambling to join them.
Sakura and Neji had to grab Lee before the green muscle-bound idiot rushed over to get himself flattened by the titans of another age duking it out, dragging him firmly away from the showy lightshow of chakra natures clashing over and over again.
The fire-tornado laced with lightning cutting off that entire side of the war from any support could go without an explanation, thanks.
(ooo000ooo)
There was something… else going on.
Mito and Kushina were honest and intent on whatever orders Madara wrote into the control scripts, the power gifted to them in undeath used with all skill the two Uzumaki clanswomen could bring forth, but Terazawa wasn't.
She had restricted herself to raiton chakra instead of fūton, though the winds still aided her in evasion and gave her a swifter movement as needed or helped mold the field or her opponents to her aims. If it was Tobirama himself she was so concerned by, it would not be all that questionable.
Yet against not only Saru's team but his successor, Izuna, her own nephew, and Tobirama's brother?
She could not disobey the control seals. Yet it seemed as if she was somehow.
Tera was buying time, using a half-mastered art she developed during the war when they lived instead of her more powerful one. The one she had since birth and knew the ways of by instinct. To keep herself just on one side of unpredictable but not truly deadly yet.
"You see it too, right prick?" Muttered the undead Uchiha who claimed Madara as kin even now. Sharingan bright red-ringed black eyes locked on the kunoichi they knew better than the rest even as he burned down the three white Zetsus attempting to interfere and murder their living companions.
"Tobi?" Hashirama questioned worriedly, attempting yet again to gently restrain his wife with his Mokuton.
Only for Tera to use the lightning she created to set a pocket of poisonous air keeping the living at bay on fire to break it up again. Which really would have been more useful to retain to keep the living away from the kunoichi arrayed against them.
The weakened Wood Release was finished being pulled off course by young Kushina wrenching it around to hit the ground instead with her chakra chains, which continued lancing back along the threads of Hashirama's power to try striking at him only to succeed in piercing a Wood Clone he replaced himself with between a blink of an eye.
Tobirama glanced to the living Sekanji on the field, who was in the midst of summoning the boss of the Snake Summons alongside his former teammates doing the same with their own Summons. Not engaging his aunt directly as he claimed the right to.
Aunt and nephew likely knew the same information that had them making a still troubling token effort only, yet had not shared with the rest of them. Either one, for as controlling as the original kinjutsu of his was… the mouth was something not even that could control. As given evidence by the still regretful apologies Kushina gave to her living husband time and time again when they were within earshot of one another.
A glance at Izuna had the dead shinobi uncomfortably grimacing, but he failed to put forth a protest to the obvious plan.
It wasn't as if they could die again as they were, after all.
"Got a plan, Nidaime-sama?" Hatake Kakashi inquired mildly, balanced at the ready at his Yondaime's back watchfully for any more lightning strikes aimed to impact the living who could not simply walk off the damage.
"If I take Terazawa out, will you be fine on your own?"
"The wind is a problem." Namikaze ruefully admitted, flexing his grip around his uniquely patterned Hiraishin kunai to ease the strain Tobirama could not feel himself. "The lightning more so."
"Tobi."
"I will be fine, brother."
Hashirama regarded him for the second he could spare from the ongoing battle now joined by a giant Snake, Slug, and Toad, then ruefully grinned as his blackened eyes strayed back to his equally undead wife whirling around the Summons to bind them in place. "Well, she is yours. You know her best, Tobi."
Izuna had the time to gag in mock disgust, before working his fire affinity to blast apart the scythes of wind Tera absently tossed in their direction for the distraction keeping them at bay.
Tobirama threw himself forward under the backwash of heat, resigned to his movements being clear to his target even so. Kushina and Mito both were surprised at him swiftly passing them, but as suspected Tera predicted his aims.
Instead of the bladed points of her war fan or the point of her knife, the kunoichi turned and reached as if to embrace him instead. "Seals, Tobi."
He impacted her bodily in the next second, reaching to one of his few remaining Hirashin seals scattered about the Elemental Countries to remove them both from the battle. "What?"
"Black Zetzu does not understand seals. It was why it had the Uzumaki Clan destroyed, even if it needed their lineage for it's plans. Madara-sama is aware it's trying to use him, was the source of all his migraine and black moods while with the Leaf in life, and used me and seals to arrange a comeuppance." Terazawa obligingly divulged now she could, smirking wickedly and so pleased with herself even as she finally ceased fighting him. "Through me, Orochimaru. He had me implant a report into the Poison Library, that likely Ikeda noticed as I purposefully ensured it would be obvious to our librarian if not any shinobi-like creature set to do it. The scent marker for all mold-related research in the library is lemongrass, not lemon."
"And lemon-treated paper burns quicker than non-treated, allowing for kanji to be relayed if correctly exposed to a heat source." Tobirama rolled his eyes at such a simple 'invisible ink' trick normally only utilized by children playing at subterfuge rather than more experienced infiltrators. "So, I was correct. Orochimaru knows what is going on."
His armful of Sekanji kunoichi giggled, still entirely too pleased with herself and the hand she had in usurping the apparent 'war against the living' as manipulated by Madara manipulated by another creature.
The undercurrents of who was responsible for what aspect were enough to give a lesser, alive, shinobi a headache to tease apart.
"We likely need to remain gone from the battle for at least ten or more minutes, if not longer." If Madara was doing all this in revenge for being ripped away from his life's work, Tobirama would trust in the apparent background plan in the works. Terazawa likely knew most of it, somehow… did Madara include instructions and information in her seal script instead of binding orders?
It would neatly explain how differently she fought for a time.
"Tobi! How scandalous!" Tera laughed again, hiding her amusement in a sleeve instead of her war fan and smacking his chest plate with her remaining folded weapon absently. "I am not that kind of kunoichi! I insist on a bed, at least."
"I meant more that we should probably find a priest or monk, Tera. We no longer are the heads of our respective clans, and we did plan on finally marrying once one of us could discharge the duties to another."
"…I suppose, yes. We are a little overdue on that front."
"Then let me disguise us both and we'll set out."
(ooo000ooo)
"Congratulations, sister-in-law." Mito greeted wickedly at the explanation of where they had been, hugging Terazawa gleefully now they were finally married into the same family.
"Tobi! How could you?" Hashirama wailed playfully, pulling at his long hair with both fists as he valiantly pouted outrageously. "You didn't even invite me! Your own brother! TO YOUR WEDDING!"
Tobriama rolled his eyes at all of them. "You were dead when I proposed, brother. Had things gone to plan, you would have still been dead when Orochimaru was of age to take his clan in hand from his aunt."
Madara eyed Izuna skeptically. "Were the two of them always like that?"
"Always, aneki." groaned the Uchiha tiredly from where he sulkily sat on a broken shard of a boulder, also miffed they left him behind for the event. "They only became more blatant in it during the Second War. The rumors, so many rumors. It was so obvious my soul died a little every damn time they tried to deny it."
"My soul is dying." Namikaze Minato muttered to his own son and the Sandaime in the background. "How are these people our Founders?"
"Want us to wreck the world again, my useless pretty boy?" Kushina brightly inquired sweetly, tilting her head back to the deeply scarred battlefield. "We totally can, I absolutely loved fighting with Mito-baa-sama at her peak."
Madara uncomfortably cleared his throat, reminded of his actions that led to this. He crossed his arms over his chest and hunched his shoulders. "I apologize for using you, ladies. Your contributions to correcting… that thing's existence, is greatly appreciated."
"How did you catch on?" Jiraiya attempted to keep the conversation on track while all the dead lingered to basically gossip on a much destroyed field of war. "I mean, from the sounds of it, Zetsu's influence was a voice in your head."
The Pure Incarnation of Madara standing at ease and without tension in his frame snorted derisively. "Like any genjutsu can't copy that. I was dissatisfied with how the Leaf developed, true enough… but enough to destroy that which I worked on with not only Hashirama and his brother but my own? Hardly. I won't refute it took years, but I eventually could discern my own thoughts from Zetsu's 'suggestions'."
"You led me to believe it!" Obito howled in outrage at his ancestor, angry and wounded as all manipulated tools tended to be in the end. He earned himself only apathetic sympathy pats on the back from the battered Danzō.
"I was pressing it as it was with Terazawa-sensei, brat." Madara bit back, unapologetic and pointedly reapproving. "Be happy I didn't put a seal on your damn heart to do Zetsu's bidding and continue your fucking life a little wiser!"
"I'm totally fucking confused." Namikaze Naruto muttered to his Uchiha counterpart around his undead mother's back, ducking his father's absent swatting at the back of his head. "We're done with creepy living-will-goddess-chakra-moon things now, right?"
Uchiha Sasuke gave his 'fate assigned Asura-counterpart' a droll look in return. He then turned to address the only living reincarnation of past shinobi. "Madara-sama, do you want Obito-san to take the Uchiha Clan? I think my brother will gratefully step aside if that's what you want. Itachi's not… well. His lungs aren't holding up."
"Figure it out yourselves, brats. I'm done."
"My little Leaf snake," Tera quietly called Orochimaru's attention to herself, tiredly smiling at the reproachful look he already had instead of the quiet pleasure of a plan pulled off well under all these noses, "you are perhaps a bit old to continue holding my kimono's hem. Let us rest, now."
He sniffed in delicate insult at the insinuation, more than well past fifty some years of age himself and well grown into his own power and skill. "Now that you've finally corrected the greatest regret of your life, Aunt Tera?"
"My greatest regret was that I could never give Tobi a child, I was entirely too toxic. I care not for marriage or vows, I did what I do on my own behalf because I could." She admitted wickedly with a smirk he slowly matched. "Let nature take its course and fix that last regret for me, my darling successor. Please?"
"One or two, Aunt Tera?"