Despair could kill a man. Tobirama had learned this lesson many, many times over. It had broken him so many times he had lost count – and Tobirama Senju never lost count. As his life crumbled under his very eyes once more, as the girl he had dared to love faded away and the spark of life in her crimson eyes dulled, he cursed his existence and the gods who had plagued him one too many times.
She had asked for something he couldn't give with her last breath. And yet here he was, keeping his word because he had given it to her and never went back on it. What kind of man would he be if people couldn't trust him? What kind of leader? He had to do it. She had asked him to be happy, and he saw no happiness in his future without her.
Coaxing the dead to come back was no easy feat, but Tobirama had a plan. He had been the one to invent a seal for it, after all. That one wouldn't do, because it would deprive the woman he had lost of her willpower. It wasn't what Tobirama wanted. She had been too glorious, too utterly perfect, for him to alter her in any way. But the Impure World Reincarnation Seal would be an appropriate point from which to start over.
The candle was running low, its flame dancing in all directions. Tobirama breathed in and out, in and out, and forced his chakra to go quiet once more. He couldn't lose control of himself, not now, not so close to his goal. He would be happy. Yes, he would be happy. His beloved would be proud, she who was so good at playing with words and promises. She loved it when men joined in her games, when they bantered and sparred with her 'til morning came and went. He'd do that and more when he got her back.
He straightened up, his back cracking in protest. His whole body was aching from the battle, only two days prior. He hadn't slept it off yet. Without her in his bed, he wasn't sure he could ever sleep again. It wasn't her perfume on the pillow or her warmth trapped between the sheets that had lulled him into rest all those nights but something more, something he knew no other woman could provide. He read his work over one more time, just to be sure.
He was right. By the gods above and below, by the Hermit and all that was holy and good in this world, he had done it. In only two days' time, he had found a way to bring back the dead, and he didn't even feel proud about it, just tired. He rubbed his face with weary hands and closed his eyes to rest. Not to sleep, of course.
When he felt the fog lift from his brain, he cut his left palm open on the edge of a kunai and looked at the blood pooling in the creases of his hand for a moment before he put it cut down against the stone floor. A spark of chakra was all it took for the seal to activate.
And go terribly, terribly wrong.