Author's notes: In addition to the questions I have in regards to summons, I have Many Questions in regards to Sage Mode. Oh well.

o-o-o

o-o-o-o

o-o-o-o-o

There was a box.

It's a plain, simple box – more like a brown rectangle with a hinged top, sloppily created in the same way a child would crudely draw a box with crayons. It existed because Madame Haori had told Tsume immediately upon Grandmother's leave, "Make a box in your mind. Shove everything that hurts you, everything you don't want to remember, into that box, and only open it up to shove in more things. That's the only way you'll survive in this business."

And because she really did feel, deep inside where she didn't want to admit it to anyone, that she was just a brain-damaged simpleton, Tsume dutifully imagined up the box in her mind, and mechanically shoved in all that hurt her.

It never helped.

Tsume couldn't understand the process of making a box inside your head and shoving in everything that hurts you, because all that hurt was still inside her heart. She couldn't understand setting things aside and deliberately not remembering them when she had struggled for half her life to do the opposite. She couldn't understand how you took the pain of being split in half and tuck it inside your mind, along with the memory of being forced face-down in a pillow, choking for breath, as your body burned with every pounding thrust.

The more she tried to forget, the easier it was to remember.

There had been many painful realizations during her stay at the Palace – gut-wrenching emotional realizations that made her want to gnaw her own arm off to escape the emotional pain like a wild, trapped animal. But of everything that had ever harmed Tsume – of all the people and creatures and events that had hurt horrendously – only one thing had hurt more than her own fickle memory, and it was a loss she felt would dog her the rest of her life.

Tsume knew she would never get away with any elaborate lies (mainly because she would never remember them), so she stuck mainly with the truth (modified only slightly and rather simply) whenever she was asked or she readily volunteered, because she was still an outgoing sociable alpha. Everyone knew about Tsume's almost two-year-old nephew that Tsume had been caring for ever since her sister died in childbirth, and how Kakashi was adorable and cute and very skilled with puzzles – although Tsume never admitted that the puzzles were really actually booby-trapped puppets from Suna that usually had the poison needles and explosives previously removed. Whether the few surprises left behind was due to Sakumo deliberately leaving them attached or were truly accidentally missed was anyone's guess. Everyone also knew about her own puppy, which she left with Kakashi because Grandmother said she couldn't keep him, and that she had claimed her puppy as her own when his eyes still hadn't opened to the world yet.

Tsume had explained to Madame Haori that she didn't remember much of her past – or her present, really – because of the accident when she was six years old. She said that no one really knew what happened, that Grandmother found Tsume alone in the woods with her head bashed in, and that Tsume was lucky enough to survive. And because of the brain damage, her great-grandmother resented caring for her.

In that first week before the auction, as Tsume was taught by the more experienced whores how to pleasure men with a banana as a prop ("suck them dry first, that way they won't last long once they get inside of you"), Madame Haori pulled Tsume aside with more probing questions.

"What was the breaking point?" Madame Haori asked. Madame Haori was an older woman whose elaborately twisted hair was as silver as Grandmother Shinzou's, but her face was unlined and her wide green eyes seemed soft and friendly in comparison. She was swathed in a beautifully ornate purple kimono, and stank of deception. "There must be some reason for her to finally sell you to my Palace, otherwise she would've just smothered you where you lay in that forest."

Tsume hunched her shoulders as her own worries swirled around. She sometimes wondered why she hadn't died either, except that her sire had been at Grandmother's side at the discovery since he was required to open the forest for Grandmother's access. "I don't know." She was all set to successfully graduate from the Academy, after all. Surely that meant something more than her failure of last year. "I think… I think it's because I was happy."

Madame Haori's eyebrows shot upward, curved and beautiful like a butterfly's wing. "Because you were happy?"

"I think so, yeah. I had my dog, and my nephew, and my two best friends in the world, and they were helping me loads with math at school, and I finally understood that one formula for invisible numbers, and I guess I wasn't miserable like Grandmother." It was as close to the truth that Tsume could get without actually telling the whole truth. Lies, Yuu had once told her, are more believable when they were actually true.

"Ah. I suppose that would make sense. If she was bitter for the burden of caring for an invalid grandchild, to see your own attitude improve without any actual improvement in your handicap would seem demeaning towards her own miserable resentment."

"Oh." Tsume blinked, frowned, thought for a long moment, and then shrugged. "I still don't get it."

Madame Haori's smile had been breathtaking and frightening – like the sun peeking through the mist during winter, cold despite its deceptive beauty and promise otherwise. "And perhaps it's best that way. Your poor memory shall serve you well in this business. There is much we all desperately wish we could forget."

But Tsume didn't – couldn't – forget, and she chafed in resentful bitterness. That, and how Grandmother really had been right – "Men are brutal and selfish monsters that rape anything with a hole!" All the details of that first night – the crisscrossed scars on the chest that weren't fully covered by thick-white hair; the breath that stank of putrid flesh as he bit her, first with the mouth on his face, and then with the weird mouths buried in the palms of his hands; the penis that looked nothing like a turtle or a sock, and how he forced it to fit – were etched bright and clear in her mind. And after the shinobi had finally gotten what he considered his money's worth and leisurely dressed himself in his clean uniform with his shiny Iwa forehead protector in place across his pale forehead, Tsume fled, still bleeding, to the dog kennels.

Madame Kai found her. "You know you're forbidden to have anything to do with the dogs." Madame Kai seemed like a giant to Tsume. She was as round as she was tall, solid like an unmoving mountain, and ugly where Madame Haori was beautiful. Her face was pockmarked, her grey-streaked dark hair hung in long greasy knots, and half her teeth were missing or broken. She had a sweet, delicate scent like daffodils and honey.

"I don't care!" Tsume shook her head, and kept her knees tightly pinned together as she hugged to the newest batch of puppies to her bruised chest – four hounds (three females, one male), approximately a month old, born out of season. She was pressed against the side of their mother, who focused on grooming Tsume's sweat-damp hair like a cat. "They told me that there's a void in me, because my brain is broken, and that I have to fill the void. I'm going to fill it with puppies, because puppies are nice and safe."

Madame Kai reached for Tsume, and Tsume shrieked so loud that all the hounds in the kennels set up a loud braying that rattled the windows. The mother bitch grooming Tsume's hair snarled at Madame Kai, spotted hair bristling at her haunches. Madame Kai withdrew, and returned a few minutes later with the kennel keeper – Madame Sora – and Madame Haori. Madame Sora went about quieting the dogs, and Madame Haori gently sat down in the dirty straw just beyond Tsume's reach, unmindful of the damage being done to her peach-colored silk kimono covered with stunning phoenix embroidery. Madame Kai hovered in the corridor outside the dogs' stall with her gigantic hands wringing in worry.

Madame Haori waited until Tsume had uncurled slightly from a tight ball around the puppies. "You know why I forbid my girls from making contact with the dogs." She silenced the mother bitch's growl with a single chop of her hand.

Tsume rubbed one of the puppy's soft heads. "I know," she whispered against the fur. "So they can track us down if we try to escape. But… but where am I going to go?" She bit back the sob. "I'm a brain-damaged simpleton. Simpleton Tsume – that's what they called me at school." She tightened her knees, all too aware of the steady throb of pain and the slow trickle of blood and semen. "My grandmother hates me, and now I'm j-just a warm body for a man's cock. Where would I go?"

"Nowhere." Madame Haori pulled a paper fan from her pocket and snapped it open. It was painted with a bright blue sea and flying herons. "You're damaged goods, like the rest of us – although you arrived a little more damaged than most of my other girls. Dear child, you will always find a home here. Food, warmth, friendship, understanding. Even when you've grown too old and too used, when your youth is spent and your beauty has faded and you are no longer desirable, there will always be a home and a purpose for the broken women of this world here at my own little kingdom. I will feed and shelter you, give you an education in music and literature, and a place of safe retirement when you're no longer able to work."

"But I can't ever leave," Tsume said, hugging three puppies at once and trying hard not to move her sticky legs. Her vagina and rectum burned in agony, and there was a horrible, cramping pain in her abdomen.

Madame Haori paused in her fanning. She studied Tsume over the edge with narrowed green eyes. "As you said, where would you go? And, in truth, who would want to take damaged goods like us? Now and again, a young… gentleman thinks he's in love with one of my girls and tries to sweep her off her feet. He tries to lure her away with honeyed words of love and a better life." Madame Haori's gaze became distant, and her scent reeked of hatred and bitterness even though her face was carefully schooled with gentle warmth. "But it's nothing more than a trap, designed to ensnare you into another form of enslavement. Men are always looking to own you like chattel, to control your life and your soul. Here, you have freedom."

"I'd rather have a puppy."

Madame Haori's laughter was akin to bells. "Simple things for simple souls, I've always felt. Very well." The fond smile hid deceit as she snapped her fan shut and pointed it at Tsume. "You may play with the dogs – and even pick out your own puppy – as long as you are a good girl and work hard for me. Do as I say, and you shall have all the puppies your simple heart desires."

Tsume didn't know what the void was made out of – or what it once used to be – but she had seen the depravity that Orochimaru had warned her about; she had the depravity carved into her flesh in one form, saw another form in the cutting beauty of Madame Haori's smile and words – so she figured the sooner she filled her life with puppies, the better. "Okay."

"Good girl. Now let Madame Kai heal your wounds."

Tsume filled her days with Madame Sora's puppies, impatiently biding her time for when Madame Haori would keep her promise and for the promised contact from Konoha, while men filled her at night.

Within two months, Tsume learned that Madame Haori was every bit as cruel as Grandmother Shinzou, and even worse. At least Shinzou was honest in her cruelty; Madame Haori lied. She ruthlessly tore away Tsume's puppy before Tsume even had a chance to love it, and the void loomed that much darker and emptier.

Tsume couldn't hate Madame Haori, even though she understood and could recognize hatred in other people. She couldn't even hate her great-grandmother for selling her to the brothel.

Tsume could feel happiness and excitement, pity and sorrow, guilt and embarrassment. She didn't quite understand what being shy was about, and couldn't hate any more than she could fear, but she could feel anger, embarrassment, resentment, and revulsion. She reviled pain, the situations that made her suffer, and the people who enjoyed such. She felt revulsion like a simmering, disgusting taste that was sometimes so pungent she could swear every single vein was tainted with it.

Tsume didn't hate Madame Haori, but she was revulsed by Madame Haori's poisoned sweetness almost as much as she was revulsed by the bed that Madame Haori assigned to Tsume every night.

oOoOoOo

When Tsume awoke to a body that was one gigantic throbbing bruise, she saw a bare chest covered in thick white hair hovering over her face. A single thought immediately flashed through her mind – Danzo took me away. I don't want to go back to Daisuke! She instantly went with the overpowering revulsion and bitter resentment, instead of beating it down and smiling and licking and not wincing when a warm body slid into her own.

Tsume shrieked, kicked upward wildly with her legs, and thrust her arms down and back against the ground so hard she propelled herself backwards from beneath the collapsing body. Her hand clattered with bones – she saw dried blood caking her arm, saw it seep against silken sheets, and shrieked again, flailing as revulsion and agony washed through her.

A voice penetrated as she became aware of the dark scent. "Tsume – you're safe. Come to me, you're safe, Tsume." She flailed against the hard stone floor before scrambling on her hands and knees to the welcoming arms. She pressed herself against Danzo's side, shaking with adrenaline, as he wrapped an arm tightly around her shoulders. She buried her nose against the exposed skin of his arm where his sleeve was rolled up, so she could concentrate on his scent. "Are you okay, Jiraiya?" Danzo asked.

A high-pitched whimper was his only reply. Tsume swiftly sorted through the different scents that surrounded her – Danzo, Jiraiya, Kushina and Minato, waterfall, cave, fear and loathing (Danzo), dismay and pain (Jiraiya), concern and sleep (Kushina and Minato), and a toad...? Yup, definitely a toad. She felt herself tremble as the rush of adrenaline left her without energy, and she became intimately aware of how much she hurt. Then she realized most of her clothes were still bunched up around her armpits. Without moving from the safe protection of Danzo, she ignored the pain (she was used to smiling and moving and pretending to have fun even when it hurt sooooo badly), and wiggled and tugged the many yukatas down with her left hand. While doing so, she peeked over her shoulder and Danzo's arm. Jiraiya was curled facedown on the floor, his hair fanning wide around his head on the stone floor.

"Did I kick him?" she asked Danzo with a loud whisper.

Danzo's voice was wry. "It looked like your signature move – a blow to the testes."

"I felt that." Jiraiya whimpered without moving. "Ah, man. I felt that on five dimensions."

"Gosh. I'm sorry."

A wheeze. "No, you're not."

"I do want to be sorry, though, because you're a nice man as far as men go, and I always liked the sock puppet shows you put on when Tsunade-hime had to heal me. But I don't know what you're doing or where your shirt's at or why my clothes were shoved up – wait! Are you going to be looking at me at the hot springs?"

Jiraiya's hand, green-colored with a few warts on the wrist, twitched in protest. "Too young for me."

"Well, it would cost you anyway. Two hundred ryou a peek, with an extra fee for nipple and ass flashes." She winced as Danzo thumped her. The thump vibrated through every aching joint in her body. "Ooooooowwwww. What was that for?"

"For good sense," Danzo replied with a stern expression. "Jiraiya-sensei fixed your siren seal so it's safely mute now; the least you should do is thank him."

"You mean I'm still stuck with this thing?" Tsume felt something twinge inside – disappointment? Betrayal? It was hard to tell when her body was so hurt and drained of energy, and she couldn't force her hand, swollen and already purple with bruising, to open and release the vertebrae. She hoped she wasn't stuck with the bones like she was the seal. That was just embarrassing in light of all the canine comments she already dogged.

Jiraiya's only answer was another whimper. Danzo just rubbed Tsume's shoulder in sympathy – it felt like salt rubbing into a weeping sore. She flinched and pressed further against him to escape the pressure from his hand.

"You drained yourself dangerously low of chakra when you fought the Kumo nin," Danzo said. "That's why I expressly told you not to get involved with the fighting and to only run away. The simplest thing in the world, and you couldn't even do that."

She felt her face scrunch up in a frown. She waved the vertebrae at him, ignoring the burning agony that ran through her entire hand and arm. "Yeah, well, I can tear a man's spine out with my bare hand, so there!"

Danzo hardly looked impressed. "And Tsunade-hime can pulverize a man's head into mush with a flick of her finger. You have a long way to go before you can even hope to reach her level."

"Really?" That would be so cool, Tsume decided as she studied the bones in her hand, to kill someone with the flick of her finger.

Jiraiya wheezed. "That… that requires superior chakra control."

"True, yes. And if Tsume had that level of control, she wouldn't have drained herself to near nothing." Danzo tapped the top of Tsume's head. Even her scalp ached. "Make yourself a mental note: no more ripping out spines until you either build up monster-levels of chakra, or you obtain knife-edge control over your chakra."

Tsume looked down at her hand, which was already starting to turn purple beneath the brown smear of dried blood. The bones kind of reminded her of a centipede. A really ugly centipede from the depths of nightmares, with the addition of dried blood and shriveled tendons and nerves. "Why do I get the feeling I'm never going to have loads of chakra or that good a control? Wait – is this your way of saying I'm not allowed to kill anyone like this ever again?"

"That would be something to discuss with your sensei."

Tsume wiggled around until she tried slipping the fingers of her left hand between the bones and her right hand, which seemed locked in place, unable to open even though her brain demanded it. White fuzzed the edges of her vision as she tried pulling her fingers away from the bone. She stopped as horrendous pain screamed up the length of her arm. "I don't want to be stuck to this for the rest of my life!"

"Just wait until you replenish your chakra. It's likely you may have burned the tenketsu in that hand by improperly over-enhancing the strength in it."

Tsume whimpered. "You mean I damaged it? Is it permanent?"

Danzo's hesitation was not reassuring. "Maybe not."

Tsume briefly resented herself for being so reckless, and then sighed; it was what it was. She couldn't exactly jam the spine back into the body, so Tsume figured she'd worry later. By then, Jiraiya was straightening up, his expression still a little strained and uncomfortable. She grinned at him. "Nice goatee. Is it new?"

Jiraiya slapped his hands over his face to hide the goatee, and glared at her over his fingers. "No. I'm going to release my sage mode now," he told Danzo, his voice slightly muffled. "Then I'll get some food, and we'll all rest."

Tsume relaxed against Danzo. "I like my current pillow." He also radiated heat, which was very nice in the cold and damp cave.

"I am not your personal pillow. And you're going to sleep with Kushina."

"I am?" Sleeping with Kushina-chan sounded better, anyway, even if Kushina-chan probably wasn't as warm as Danzo. "Yay!" Unfortunately, Tsume's legs were too weak for her to stand despite her best efforts – stupid jelly for legs – so Danzo picked her up like she was an errant puppy, his hand bunching her yukatas tight over her shoulders as his pack dangling from his other hand. They walked away from Jiraiya, whose eyes were closed in meditation, and entered the small cavern where Kushina and Minato were. As he stepped through the opening, a flash of turquoise broke around them – the jutsu that Jiraiya erected earlier to prevent eavesdropping had fallen when Danzo crossed its threshold.

Tsume saw fading dawn colors in the sky from the mouth of the cave; in the entrance was a seated toad as tall as she was with a tanto strapped to its back. Perpendicular was Minato, asleep sitting upright, his head tilted slightly forward and his lower back pressed against the wall. Kushina sat awake and shivering with her side pressed against him and her arms wrapped around her bent knees. At the sight of Tsume, Kushina squealed with a bright smile. Minato snapped awake and was immediately alert, eyes blinking rapidly at his surroundings.

Danzo set Tsume down between Kushina and Minato, and honestly, he could've been more gentle, Tsume thought with a wince. "She's sore and tired from the chakra depletion," he said with a warning in his voice. That didn't stop Kushina from throwing her arms around Tsume and pulling her into a tight hug. Tsume gasped as every muscle and bone made their protest loudly known. Kushina pulled back with her brow crinkling in worry.

"Are you okay? Is there anything I can get for you? Why are you still holding those bones?"

"I'm fine," Tsume said rapidly. Minato leaned forward to peer around Kushina's body; Minato's expression was as knowing as Kushina's was suspicious. She found herself hunching down, trying not to feel embarrassed with her own weakness. "Well, I will be fine. Danzo thinks I burned the tenketsu in my hand and that's why it's stuck closed like this. So… I guess I get a battle trophy?" She flopped the arm up and down in a stiff wave, careful not to let the pain cross her face. The bones rattled. "Yay me."

"Where's Jiraiya-sensei?" Minato asked, trying to rub warmth into his arms.

Danzo's expression was as wry as his face as he sifted through his pack. "Recovering from Tsume's crippling blow." He smirked as Minato turned wide eyes on Tsume's battle trophy.

Tsume bristled defensively. She knew what that look meant. "I was confused when I woke up, okay? I… I might've kicked Jiraiya-sensei in the balls."

Minato was quiet for a long moment as the horror melted from his face, replaced by wry amusement. Then he shrugged and raised the volume of his voice. "Okay, that he probably had coming."

An indignant groan was heard from further away. "I did not!"

"I'm sure you deserved it for something, sensei."

Jiraiya's voice dropped into a grumble about disrespecting brats too big for their britches. Tsume could smell the amusement from everyone present, including the toad. Satisfied that most of everything was right in her part of the world, she settled against Kushina, accepted the aspirin that Danzo gave her from his first aid kit, and then reluctantly ate her dinner of radish and dried meat left-handed.

"I bet this is really unhygienic," she told Danzo, waving the spine. "What if I catch another disease?"

He eyed her as he pulled the wool blanket out of his pack. "Then you should've thought about that before filleting the enemy. Also, why do you sound like it wouldn't be the first time you caught a disease?" He tossed the blanket at her as Tsume clamped her lips shut and vowed never to say another word. "Get some rest. We still have a long way to run."

"Okay." Kushina helpfully spread the blanket over Tsume, and then scooted closer as she tucked herself beneath it. They settled comfortably together, with Kushina tucking her head beneath Tsume's chin. Tsume glanced over. Minato stared at them wide-eyed, his arms wrapped around himself. He looked like he was cold, lonely, and needed a hug.

Tsume felt a chill settle in the pit of her stomach, because she knew what lonely felt like. "Oh, fine then." She pinched a section of the blanket between her left fingers, and reluctantly lifted the material in offering, opposite of Kushina. "I'll clobber you if you snore, Mooncalf." She told herself he didn't count, because Minato was too little (kind of like an extra-large Kakashi) to qualify as a man. Besides, Tsume wasn't revulsed by Minato or what he could do – Minato wouldn't hurt a flea. Unless the flea wore the forehead protector of Kumo or Iwa, and then all bets were off, probably.

Minato brightened and shimmied under the blanket as his scent shifted from loneliness to contentment. It was a tight fit, but the three preteens somehow managed to squeeze together beneath the blanket, snug and warm. Kushina murmured and shifted so she was comfortably wedged against Tsume, which pressed Tsume against Minato.

Mooncalf was almost as warm as Danzo, and even though he didn't keep his hands to himself – he slipped one arm around Tsume's lower back and half-way across Kushina, like he was angling himself to roll himself in front of them like a shield in case of an attack – that was okay. He smelled like a protective autumn campfire roasting salted apples.

Tsume wanted to ask Kushina about Kakashi and Kuromaru, about Kokoro, Sakumo, and Hidarime-chan. But, she supposed, with a glance at Kushina's drooping eyelids, another glance at Danzo's tired, pinched expression, and with an awareness of how her body throbbed with pain and exhaustion, that the questions could wait until the next day.

Tsume gently wound Kushina's beautifully brilliant red hair around her left wrist. Then she closed her eyes and entrenched herself in all the familiar scents of home.

oOoOoOo

The afternoon was late but still felt like it came all too quickly when Jiraiya awoke the children. Some time during their sleep, the blanket got tangled up everywhere, Tsume wound up sprawled across Minato and Kushina, and Kushina had drooled.

Tsume's body still ached, and her right hand screamed in agony every time she tried to wiggle a finger loose. The color of her hand had turned into a spectacularly solid shade of eggplant-purple that started at her fingertips and eventually faded upwards by her elbow. Her entire lower arm was swollen to nearly twice its original size, and the bones felt like they were cutting into her palm. As Danzo prepared a quick breakfast (supper?) of rice and tea with some wood Jiraiya's toad sentry had obtained, Tsume talked Jiraiya and Danzo into letting her and Kushina bathe.

"Look," she told them, "trust me when I say we all stink, especially when Kushina hasn't had a bath since she was captured – sorry, Kushina-chan – and I've got this bloody bunch of bones in my hand that's going to start smelling like a slaughterhouse and alert everyone around us!"

"She has a point," Jiraiya said from where he was seated beside Danzo. He looked like he had recovered rather well for experiencing a blow felt in five dimensions.

Danzo rubbed the scar on his chin. "Very well. Minato – you accompany them and keep a lookout for possible presence of other enemy nin. Tsume, keep your nose open."

"Don't peek," Tsume told Minato as she and Kushina mounted Jiraiya's toad. Then she yelped and grabbed Kushina as the toad hopped out of the cave and plummeted downward. Minato followed at a more sedate pace, easily picking his way down the cliff like he was taking a stroll through a manicured park. In the hollow of some tall boulders where an eddy of water was sheltered from the full force of the rapids to form a gentle pool, Kushina and Tsume were quick in stripping down and washing themselves – the water was freezing, and the air was almost as frigid, even though the lingering sun was warm. But after eight days of captivity, Kushina was grateful to be clean, and Tsume's brain felt lighter as she splashed and scrubbed one-armed. She was careful to keep her right hand submerged, because the cold water eased some of the gut-twisting agony and burning.

As they scrubbed with handfuls of pebbled sand, Tsume was able to finally ask her questions. "Grandmother hauled me off on the mission before I graduated – I'm sure I graduated. Who's my sensei?"

Kushina nearly vibrated with excitement. "Oh, Tsume! You're on my team, with me and Kokoro-chan and Sakumo-sensei!"

Tsume cheered, shivering. "Yay. How's K-Kakashi and Kuromaru d-doing?"

Kushina's face was thoughtful as she ducked her head a few times beneath the water's surface. Tsume envied how Kushina's hair, almost a deep burgundy when wet, fanned gracefully outward as it followed the eddy. Tsume just looked like a rabid hedgehog. "Kuromaru misses you. So does Aunt Natsumi. Aunt Natsumi keeps saying that if you aren't back by the New Year, she's going hunting for you herself with an army of summons, believe it! She's been teaching Kakashi how to throw kunai and shuriken, and he's got a real hand at it. Oh, uh, by the way." Kushina rubbed Tsume's back where Tsume couldn't reach. "Aunt Natsumi knows that Kakashi isn't a little girl."

Tsume shrugged. "Well, I f-f-figured that the jig w-wouldn't last forever."

"Uh. Well, actually, Aunt Natsumi said she's always known Kakashi was a little boy, and thought maybe you dressed him up in ribbons and dresses because Grandmother Shinzou never let you have dolls."

Mortified, Tsume felt her face go red, because she just knew that Minato could hear their entire conversation – he had to remain close enough to quietly alert them of any incoming enemies (of which none was around, she had tried to argue, but Minato sternly told her that her nose didn't get to overrule Danzo's order). She never wanted to play with dolls! (Not much, really. Not after Grandmother found her when she was seven years old and reenacting the life that used to be, that she clearly remembered, with a Tsume-doll and a Grandmother-doll…) "What? No! That's n-not it!"

"Aunt Natsumi told me that one night, when I was dropping Kakashi off before a mission. She said that she wasn't mad, and actually thought it was really cute. She took pictures and everything, believe it!" Kushina giggled. "She said you'd need the blackmail material when Kakashi gets to be an unruly teenager, believe it – especially, she said, if he's anything like his aunt."

Tsume scoffed at that. "Kakashi's a sweetheart. He's t-too laidback to be an unruly teenager l-l-like me. I bet he's going to be j-just like his dad."

Kushina and Tsume quickly dressed in most of their clothes; Kushina wore her outer layers so she could wash her underwear and Tsume's yukatas. The middle layers of Tsume's yukatas were cleanest, so she peeled off the first two top and bottom layers so Kushina could try scrubbing them clean with handfuls of rough pebbles. Tsume felt guilty that Kushina should be doing most of the work, but the shivering made all of her already-sore muscles clench in agony, and she only had one working hand.

While Kushina was scrubbing, Tsume skirted to the other side of the boulders where Minato had been sitting on a small rock with a blank, stupid expression on his face as he studied the whirling eddies of the rapids. Minato once called it his "thinking expression" in the Academy; Tsume didn't believe that he actually did any thinking. She handed Minato a fist-sized rock. "Can you break this down?" she asked, waving her right hand that still clenched the spine. "It's really bulky and getting in the way."

Minato agreed with a quick nod of his head. Tsume laid her hand against the surface of one boulder, the spine strung out on either side. Minato clamped one hand on her aching wrist to secure it, and then smashed the bones on one side with a single strike.

Tsume's vision washed with white again as pain flooded her arm from the vibrations. Minato's hand tightened on her wrist as her legs gave out beneath her and she slumped. "Breathe," he hissed in her ear. The white-flash of agony eased off into a gigantic blue throb of pain that felt like her entire hand had been crushed along with the bones that lay in particles around them. Minato cut the dangling tendons and nerves with his kunai. "One more time," he told Tsume, his voice even and sure.

She nodded with a whimper. She wanted to curl up in a corner and cry from the pain. Then she straightened upward and repositioned her arm. Minato shifted around her so he could smash the vertebrae on the other side. Tsume's vision when white again, worse than the first as pain shot up to her shoulder, worse even than what she experienced on Auction Night.

Minato released Tsume's wrist to catch her around her middle, and support her weight. His smile was brighter than the waning sunshine as he eased her onto the wet rocks. Sharp points jabbed her hips and the back of her thighs. "You did good," he told her, letting her upper body rest against his torso. "Keep breathing, Tsume-chan." His large hands felt really nice and warm as he massaged her shoulder, and carefully worked down her upper arm. The muscles stung and ached, but his gentle touch seemed to ease the spasms that made her entire arm shake.

Tsume blinked back a sudden wave of pained tears as she tried to think of the last person who had really been so genuinely nice to her that wasn't Danzo (who wasn't really a nice person after all) or part of the Unholy Trio/Cute Mascots. Well, there had been Hidarime, Aunt Natsumi and Oyubi. Then she thought, with a desperate hunger, I really miss Sakumo.

"Minato – what did you do?" Kushina was on them in a red flash, her wet hair hanging in dripping ropes around her face, as she flung the laundry like a weapon. "Don't touch her!" Minato found his face smothered in a dripping wet yukata with only a few remaining bloodstains. He floundered a moment while Kushina dragged Tsume away from Minato and hovered protectively.

Minato's expression was confused and the hair around his face wet when he finally untangled himself from the wet material. "I…I didn't…" He heaved a gigantic sigh as his shoulders rounded forward and his head drooped. "What did I do wrong this time?"

"Nothing," Tsume said, sniffling back her tears, just as Kushina growled, "Everything!"

"No, really," Tsume said with a wave of her left hand. "It's okay, Kushina-chan." She swiped at her eyes. "Mooncalf-san was helping me like I asked, and he even threw in a free massage!" Her right forearm and hand still throbbed in nearly-unbearable agony, but she managed to nudge Kushina. "I bet we could talk him into a foot massage later!"

Kushina's lower lip trembled as she plucked at Tsume's sleeve. "Are you sure you're okay?" Her scent stank of fear and pain. Tsume stared at her for a long moment as a new suspicion formed in her mind. She felt her heart flutter in her chest.

"I'll be all right," Tsume said softly, laying her left hand on Kushina's. "What about you?" She was suddenly glad she had ripped the man's spine out, especially if he or any of the others had hurt Kushina the same way Tsume had been hurt. It was too easy to imagine Kushina in Tsume's place, lying on her back with her red hair fanning over the pillow while a faceless stranger pumped between Kushina's bruised knees. Kushina didn't smell like that had happened, but Tsume's imagination was sometimes a little stronger than her nose.

Bawling, Kushina threw her arms around Tsume. "I-I'm okay if y-you are!" Unable to stop herself because of the riot of emotions and ongoing pain, Tsume burst into tears and hugged Kushina's arm close.

Minato's eyes were wide as he gazed at them. Then he wrung excess water out of the yukata. "I just don't get girls," he muttered with a shake of his head.

oOoOoOo

After they had stopped crying, washed their faces, and Minato pulverized the crushed vertebrae and tossed the remains into the rapids, they all returned to the cave. The last of the light was fading as the sun set and the first evening stars were making themselves known. The rice and tea were hot, welcome delights. Kushina and Tsume huddled together beneath Danzo's wool blanket, sharing a bowl of rice and a mug of tea, since Danzo had limited utensils and Minato's supplies only consisted of high-protein ration bars.

Danzo led the conversation. "What happened, Kushina?" His gaze was hard and his face was cold as he stared at Kushina. "How did you manage to fall into enemy hands?"

The Red Hot Habanero wilted from the full force of Danzo's attention. She pulled her knees up to her chest. "Um… Well, eight days ago I guess, my team and I were near the Fire-Grass border, running supply relief between stations and outposts. I remember there being a gigantic explosion – the enemy must've set up a blast zone to trap us– and we caught the edge of it. The shockwave knocked me unconscious, and when I woke up, I was chained up and surrounded by nine Kumo nin. I don't know what happened to my team."

"But you know why Kumo grabbed you, and why your rescue is of great importance."

"…yes." Kushina hunched further, but Tsume thought the glare Kushina gave Danzo over her kneecaps was impressive. Tsume tried not to look too curious with where the line of questioning was going (so, just why was Kushina-chan so important?). She must not have been as subtle as she thought, because Jiraiya cast Danzo a warning look.

"Well." Danzo poked the fire with a stick. "This will be interesting, given how many S Rank secrets are involved and Jiraiya-sensei and I are the only ones with the clearance levels to deal with them."

Jiraiya pointedly coughed. "Ah, Danzo? You're not exactly quelling their curiosity, you know."

Danzo didn't even look at Jiraiya as he straightened. The fire had flared suddenly, lighting Danzo's face in a cast of wicked darkness and gleaming red embers reflecting in his single eye. His shadow loomed behind on the cave wall, the angles sharp and dangerous. Tsume felt a shudder race down her spine that had nothing to do with her still-wet clothes. "I do not see the need to point out to these young shinobi that their enemies will stop at nothing to obtain S Rank secrets should wagging tongues reveal the existence of such."

Minato nodded his head solemnly, as did Kushina.

Tsume just blinked. She raised her left hand as if in classroom. "I don't get it." She felt Kushina wince as Danzo slowly tilted his head and leveled his glare at Tsume. "I need small words, remember?"

"Ah, yes. Simpleton Tsume." Danzo knitted his fingers into a cradle upon which to rest his chin; the angle cast plunged of his face in shadow. Orange embers reflected in his eye. "Your S Rank secret is the fact that over two hundred kilometers away you were able to detect that Kushina was held captive by nine Kumo nin, thus enabling us to track and follow." She noticed that he hadn't mentioned the Hokage's green banana from over eight hundred kilometers away, which seemed much more impressive to her. "The Iwa nin who captured you because of the Inuzuka clan's reputation for being exceptional trackers, but they would've guarded you better had they realized truly how keen your nose is.

"No one must ever be aware that you can, from a great and safe distance, reveal exact position and number of forces in real time. Our enemies wouldn't have to intercept and decode messages; they wouldn't have to risk infiltration or capture, nor would they need to torture someone who may not even possess the Intel the enemies are looking for. After all, your nose can fetch that information faster and more accurately than any Hyuuga could, and from a distance that's at least hundred times the range of the Byakugan."

It didn't seem fair that Danzo was singling her out like this, even if it seemed like he was underhandedly explaining the "official" story of her prolonged absence to Minato and Kushina, as well as impressing on all of them what to avoid saying if curious people peppered them with questions when adults weren't around to prevent the questions. But it was also kind of cool to know that her nose was even more awesome than the Byakugen. "Oh."

"A stray comment on your sense of smell – innocent, playful, seemingly harmless – could alert our enemies, and would spell the end of your freedom."

Tsume squirmed uncomfortably. When he put it that way, she suddenly realized just how bad it would be for the rest of the world to know just how much cooler her nose was than the Byakugen. Dang it. "Okay."

"I needn't remind you what tortures could be used to break you."

As Kushina's breath hitched as if she thought of something horrible, Tsume remembered being pressed face-first into the feather pillow that was saturated with the stench of countless other women and their terror, pain, and despair, and the painful sensation of appendage thrusting into her. "…I know."

"Death is not something to be feared, but would be a luxury denied to you." Danzo's words were like sharp blades, their strikes precision-quick. "And ultimately they will realize it's not your nose that's so valuable, but your uterus."

A different red – of blood staining her thighs and Madame Kai's gloved hand – filled Tsume's mind, as the lid of her memory's crude box slammed open. She remembered the cool, hard look on Madame Haori's face, and the stench of envy and hatred that poured off the woman. Tsume pressed her fisted right hand against her belly button, all too aware of the void that Orochimaru had warned her about. "Shut up," she whispered. She had been so careful not to say anything to Danzo, because this was what she wanted to forget the most at the brothel, the one thing she desperately wished she could forever leave in the box.

"Why do they need to brainwash you when they can just breed you like a dog?"

She trembled as she hunched into herself. ("Terminate it.") "Shut up!"

"And by a careless stray word, your descendants – your own pack – could be used as weapons against your village."

Tsume wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to bite Danzo and claw out his remaining eye. She hurt like she was raw and flipped inside out, like Madame Kai was scraping out her insides all over again, and revulsion made her stomach and head swim.

Jiraiya's voice was respectful, but it held an undercurrent of deadliness. "I think that's a point all three of them all understand quite clearly, Danzo."

"Do they, now?"

It was Minato who spoke. "We do, sir." He angled his body by tilting forward on his knees and curled one arm outward, around Tsume's huddled figure as if he was trying to shield her from Danzo's cruelty. He bowed his head. "Thank you for emphasizing the importance of secrecy. Perhaps it's wisest not to speak more of the subject, as it may inadvertently reveal details beyond our clearance level."

Jiraiya jumped in before Danzo could say anything. "Minato's absolutely right. Besides, hammer at the point any more, Danzo, and you run the risk of losing them to boredom." He leaned forward, cupping a hand around Danzo's ear to whisper too low for the others to hear. Tsume instantly sharpened her hearing the same way she sharpened her olfaction – the crackle of the fire seemed like booms, louder than the five different pounding heart rhythms or the sandpaper rasp of breathing. "Five dimensions, Danzo. She's just four weeks away from a forced abortion, and it haunts her more than the rapes."

Tsume redirected chakra from her ears so fast that her hearing was filled with a deafening ringing. She didn't hear what Danzo said, although the expression on his face and eyes remained unchanging, although his scent coiled dark with a spike of the man's anger. Jiraiya nodded and stood, a friendly smile crossing his face as he turned to the children. Kushina stood, then Minato, and Tsume stiffly mimicked them as her ears continued to ring.