Sorry for taking a month and a bit more to update, but life happened and we got busy.
keep bearing with us in our quest to simp best girls
"...Mito baa-chan?"
Tsunade was in utter shock. Did she die in her sleep? She had to be dead; there's no other possible explanation for being face-to-face with her grandma, a woman who's been dead for over three decades.
"Damn, Tsun-chan, I know you've been drinking a lot lately, but at least change into your pajamas before sleeping. "
Whoever knew Uzumaki Mito would have described her as a kind soul, reserved, and polite to no end. Being the Shodaime's wife, Mito learned better than anyone the art of deceit. In the commodity house, though, Mito Uzumaki was an Uzumaki through and through.
No one who had shared a day of their life talking with Uzumaki Mito would describe her as a loud woman with a strong personality and a kind of raunchy humor. Then again, those people weren't the grandkid that lived with her since age six.
If people thought Tsunade had a strong personality, they'd be blown away by Mito.
She was brought back from her thoughts by the sound of someone snapping their fingers in her face.
"What are you staring at kid, did the sake burn your neurons already?"
Tsunade had never slammed a door in someone's face so fast.
Breath in. Mito couldn't be there. Mito couldn't be alive. Breath out.
"Senju Tsunade, you have up to the count of three to open that damn door." Mito's voice reverberating through the room reminded her of what she currently wanted to forget.
Stop listening and start paying attention.
Decades of shinobi training snapped into place in an instant, and she scanned the room.
She'd found herself in an almost perfect replica of her childhood room. A massive wardrobe dominated one side of the room, leaving very little room for much else. On the other side, though, were posters, drawings, and photographs covering the entire wall.
A well-built dresser occupied the space there, its surface almost overflowing with books, loose paper, and other materials. Beneath Tsunade's feet was a cozy olive green rug that covered the floor from corner to corner.
Directly in front of her was a sturdy door peppered with tiny marks and some noticeable gashes carved into the wood. Behind her, a massive window bathed the room in the warm, golden glow of morning time. The large bed sat right under the window, the blankets in disarray. It'd been used recently.
Okay, an exact replica of the room from her childhood.
One small item drew her attention in particular. A package that sat on the top of the dresser, clumsily wrapped in gaudy-looking paper. She would have kept studying it if the door hadn't been violently thrown off its hinges.
Tsunade stood, frozen like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, as an incensed Mito Uzumaki barged into the room.
"Little Tsu-chan sneaking out for a drink is one thing but slamming the door? In my face?"
Tsunade is an experienced shinobi. Scratch that, a legendary shinobi with three wars under her belt and a title of the Hokage with irreproachable composure in spades.
Mito Uzumaki, however, was scary. Even now, when she wasn't sure if she was even awake, Tsunade felt an instinctual, familiar fear creep up inside her.
A considerable part of her wanted to run up give her a hug, clinging to her in hopes that she'd somehow make everything better.
Another, more battle-hardened part wanted to throw a punch. An illusion, an imposter, or some kind of trick, obviously. People don't come back to life. Unless Orochimaru was playing one fucked up prank here.
Though Mito's face softened once her eyes caught a glimpse of Tsunade's visage.
"Tsu-chan?" Tsunade had to suppress the urge to jump back when Mito gently touched her on the shoulder. "Is everything alright? Do I need to kill that frog boy?"
"I..." words were caught in her throat, and she was just able to let a cry out as the urge to hug her grandma close took over.
Before she knew it, Tsunade had lurched forward and thrown her arms around the other woman. Whatever Mito was about to say was lost as she looked at her granddaughter clinging to her like a lifeline.
"Mito Baa-chan," she said as her eyes began to water, and she felt the floodgates open.
"Here, sweetie, I am here for you." Mito shushed as Tsunade buried her face deeper into her grandmother's shoulder, the scent of roses overtaking her as she did so. Familiar, comforting pats on her back slowly lulled her into a trance.
If this was genjutsu, then it was a pretty damn good one. Hell, not even the Infinite Tsukuyomi felt this real.
"Let's get some food in you," Mito said after what felt like a lifetime. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out later, okay?"
A part of her knew this could still all be an illusion, but when her grandmother guided her to the dining room, Tsunade couldn't help but quietly follow. The warmth of the hug was still clouding her mind.
When was the last time someone had comforted her like that?
It had been a while since the last time she'd let herself lower the walls that were so fiercely built.
In a dreamlike state, Tsunade followed Mito along into the dining room.
Wood was the primary building block here, and the traditional Senju design had been like this long before Hashirama Senju unveiled his Mokuton. Simple and sturdy, built to last. Victory through unyielding determination, as the elders used to put it.
Mito led her through the spacious corridors, past the wide-open windows that let natural light bathe the whole house living room. Up the straight staircase, ignoring the many, many, empty bedrooms, towards the kitchen.
In the ceiling, wood panels from various trees crisscrossed, leaving an intricate and strangely beautiful pattern—one of the few traces of extravagance in the entire manor. The house's beauty lies in its simplicity.
The floor was built from a much darker wood with a greyish tone to it. One could almost mistake it for stone or marble. Furnishing used to be sparse; one should only have as much as one needs.
More have been added in recent years, though, and Tsunade had added even more once she inherited everything. She was a Senju, but a few worldly comforts never hurt anyone.
Comfort was far from her mind right now, though. Before she could get a better look at the house, she was being sat at the kitchen table.
Sounds of clattering pots and pans left the kitchen as Mito prepared their meal. Meanwhile, Tsunade's mind was still too clouded by shock, happiness, disbelief, grief, and a severe tinge of nostalgia to even think clearly.
She dimly registered the sound of the stove being turned on and a pan being laid over it, eggshells being cracked, and the sound of a knife chopping on a cutting board.
All she had to do was focus on the sounds, and she was suddenly back in her childhood, impatiently waiting for breakfast, eager to go outside and become the great ninja that she was meant to be. Everything felt so real.
She was brought back to reality by the smell of chocolate, followed by a soft clink of something being placed on the table.
Her baa-chan's hot chocolate was in front of her, the treat she would always make when she was feeling down.
"Don't wait for it to go cold!" A shout rang from the kitchen, prompting Tsunade to take the cup into her hands. The warmth of the cup grounding her to reality.
Tentatively, she took a sip and then suppressed a shudder at the sudden warmth running through her body. A second sip, and a third, and soon enough, the cup was empty in her hands. The familiar taste of the hot chocolate only Mito could make lingered perfectly on her tongue.
Before she could mourn the empty cup, a plate of delicious-looking egg sandwiches is placed in front of her.
"Eat up, sunny side up, no soggy yolk, just how you like it."
Long past the point of hesitation, Tsunade immediately tore into it. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Mito leaning against the wall with eyes on her, amusement evident on her face. Still, she couldn't be bothered. It had been too long since the last time she was able to indulge the pleasure of her grandma's cooking.
With food this good, who cares if this was an illusion!
Once she was almost done with her breakfast, she finally felt slightly more like herself again. Mito sat in front of her with a look on her face that Tsunade knew meant business: Start speaking.
How do you even begin to explain this? To do that, she'd have to first understand what the hell was going on here.
Some kind of powerful vision? Hallucination? Dream? Where to even begin?
She found herself lost of words for the second time in this morning, mouth quivering trying to say something, anything. Until Mito took the lead and finally shot a straightforward question
"Another attack?"
Wordlessly, she nodded, hoping it'll put the issue to rest for the time being. If she just got some more time, maybe … maybe she'd figure out what has happened?
Tsunade's thoughts were interrupted as Mito ran a hand through her hair. She used to do that when she was a little girl, saddened over her parents. It had been so many years since then, but here she was again.
"Wanna talk about it, Tsun-chan?" Mito's ability to go from the scariest person in the world to a caring, sweet old lady always amazed her.
Tsunade simply shook her head no, and Mito just let out a defeated sigh before telling her to go back to her room and rest.
And then she was finally in her room again, alone. After the meal and the talk, she wasn't feeling good exactly, just a bit less panicky. Still, it was progress, and she was going to need a lot of those to figure out where in the hell she was and what the hell was going on.
Zoning out again in the gift box that stood on her desk, she gently picked it up and felt it in her hands, the weight, the texture. It's been so many years, but she couldn't help but feel as though she'd last seen it yesterday. She could even remember what the card said.
Maybe she was back.
With unshaking hands, she grabbed the wrapping paper and deftly pulled it apart.
Tell us what you think about this. All you guys comments keep us going.