[This may be split into a series at some point. Regardless, it is going to be very long.]
ADDITIONAL INFO: This story has some heavy themes regarding various philosophical concepts and trauma-related mental illness. A common theme is the concept of "The Monkey's Paw":
"Fate rules people's lives and those who interfere with fate do so to their sorrow."
Pairings: Neji/OC, Sasuke/Naruto, Naruto/Hinata, Sasuke/Sakura
There will be periods of angst, and some brief but extremely heavy angst at a couple points - trigger warnings will be posted with those chapters of course - nothing crazy(like Berserk...holy shit), but common happenings concerning mental illness & trauma response. I don't romanticize and prefer the brutal reality of said illnesses, which is where the warning comes in to play. Violence is canon-typical, but I do describe it a tad more graphic due to this not being a visual medium. There are deaths, but no (permanent)major character death so far in my outline. I don't foresee this changing, but if it does I will give plenty of warning. It also contains elements of parody. Everyone is legal; the fourth war is happening when our main crew is aged 18-20. There isn't going to be porn, and if there is it won't be for a while(I suck at smut), but definitely allusions to adult activities. Romance is going to be built up some but otherwise scarcely touched upon until after the war - the reason it is listed as the other category is A) so people are aware of the subplot and B) because it will be part of the main feature, after the first story arc. The story begins in April, after the Five Kage Summit. It will cover the rest of shippuden, the time skip, the new era, and some of the gaps in history.
There is art for this story. If you would like to see it, my deviantart account is tabooemu. The full version of the cover art is on there as well.
"The past is just a memory of prior movement and change which animates the future development of the universe and its fate."
Chapter 1: Close Encounters of the Fifth Kind
Present - Land of Fire
Rain pelted against the wooden roof of the small cabin, the loud thrum blocking out all other sounds as he sat and stared out of a squared window. Droplets of water collected on the glass, clinging together and rushing downwards in such a manic expression that it seemed as if they were trying to escape from something. What great terror awaited them that caused even the clouds to shudder and the rain to show fear? The corners of his mouth twitched upwards at such an absurd thought. Many powerful men and beasts had trod the bloodied soil of this planet, yet here he still sat. Bored, and waiting.
An incredible clap of thunder shook the walls and rumbled along the storm front, eliciting a frightened whimper from a figure huddled in the back corner of the room. His nerves tingled with anticipatory rapture as the atmospheric pressure dropped impossibly low, indicating the arrival of his muse. Licking his lips, he stood up and cracked each of his knuckles one by one, groaning from the relieved tension. Turning away from the picturesque chaos, he crossed the room and stood over the bound individual now cowering at his feet. He afforded them a brief moment of pity while he twirled a small mallet between two fingers, not wanting to disrespect the woman who provided him this vessel some years ago. Something inside him dared her to say his name. She did not.
Tap.
Narrow black eyes watched with cold indifference as the body slumped over, a solitary tear dripping down off of her slacked jaw and joining the rain in its pursuit of safety.
"Tell me, what good are mere Kings when contested by the Gods?"
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Tearing through the forest, she left a trail of broken limbs and deep mud-tracks in the wake of the fury that was blurring the edges of her vision and acidifying her blood. Narrowly avoiding a large boulder, she came to a stop to try and gather her wits. However, her racing thoughts had other objectives in mind.
The gruesome twosome she was looking for had remained elusive for more than a millennium, but they couldn't hide forever. Not from her, and certainly not from her apocalyptic grudge.
At the moment her pent up emotions were allowed to run rampant, there was nothing left to keep her inner rage from boiling over and incinerating everything within reach. The mind's eye opened to bring forth the truth from where it hid, a blue sphere of sight emerging from blackened sclera. Two small horns elongated until they were spiraling, deadly appendages capable of extracting agonized screams from whoever dared to venture too close. A red marking on her lower lip blackened and stretched down the center of her chin, continuing across her neck before branching off to cover the rest of her body in geometric patterns. Like a living tattoo, an ominous warning displayed upon her flesh.
Sharp talons of metal and bone displaced her fingers and toes, the combination of platinum and organic tissue glinting in the darkness. New bone formations split from the back of her rib cage and curled behind her like skeletal wings making sense of her floating form. The rinnegan blinked in her palm, producing a glowing blue Shinkin. Gripping the base, she thrust it into the air and released a feral, otherworldly roar.
A column of lightning struck the sword, called forth by the siren song of salvation.
Obsidian and cyan chakra billowed around her like a cloak, crackling with electricity as the thunder sang out its welcome. An orb of black truth materialized within her palm and she batted it into the earth with the blunt end of the sword. Shock waves of electrified gravity exploded outwards from the point of impact, magnified by the turbulent downpour. The night skies lit up like daytime and nothing could escape being illuminated by her truth. Scorched trees shook violently in its wake, succumbing to their damage and crumbling along with the earth beneath them. Birds flocked to the skies as they fled in terror, narrowly escaping the fate of the flora they nested in.
The ferocity of the storm was a comfort compared to death's incarnate, levitating beneath its front.
As if the rain was quenching the fires within, lucidity quelled her mind once again. The demonic transformation rescinded during the next minute, leaving an unassuming young woman to float calmly in its place. The sole survivor of a divine cataclysm. Scolding herself internally, she glanced around to assess the destroyed woodland and large crater of which she was the epicenter.
"Shit," she cursed. Between her unbecoming language and inappropriate outburst, she could practically feel her father's relentless, unwavering resentment and hear the vitriol pouring from his mouth and suffocating her small form, filling her lungs until she was drowning in an ocean of hate. Such supreme cruelty and ass-holery seemed to transcend dimensions and space-time itself.
The King was ruthless, villainous, and corrupted. Pure evil; every cell comprising the disgusting waste of flesh that was his body radiated with malcontent and oppression. For her entire life his insatiable need for power and control had smothered her, entrapping her in a literal prison built from his antagonism. The closest thing to happiness she had ever experienced was a brief childhood friendship with her elder cousin, Kaguya.
In a time that seemed too dreamlike and distant to have been more than a fantasy, they'd shared a vision. A Will. But once her imprisonment began they saw each other less and less, and eventually Kaguya stopped visiting altogether. What was once a friend had become another cold and disinterested spectator of her mistreatment.
At some point Kaguya left their planet, presumably having succumbed to her partner's persuasive words, departing without hesitation to fetch yet more chakra for her tyrannical king. Just another Harvester.
Now that she'd managed to escape, saying she was anything less than lusting for the blood of everyone who swore fealty to her father would be the understatement of an eternity. She was a victim, a survivor on a path towards redemption. Kaguya and her asshole partner Isshiki were the lucky firsts on her intergalactic shit-list.
Poetic justice could be argued with the fact that Isshiki left Kaguya behind. Karma could be a real bitch. But poetic justice did nothing to sate her appetite for revenge, so her mission was by no means being called off any time soon.
Fuck them and their damned Credo.
"After I deal with Kaguya and Isshiki I will come for you, Outosan. My sole purpose is to prevent you from ruining more of this universe. Don't think I am above ending your life. And when I do," she said, pausing to turn her face toward the obscured stars and raising a fist in solidarity.
"I will piss on your grave, motherfucker!" She screamed, her words fading into an unholy battle cry that ended up sounding more like a screech.
Torrential rain poured into her open mouth, assaulting the back of her exposed throat and causing her to sputter. She flailed her arms about, accidentally smacking her hand onto one of the now small horns protruding from her forehead. Hissing in pain, she angrily tugged on her soaked hair, muttering a stream of curses while stomping around in the puddle that had formed under her feet.
"This is the true power of youth!" A voice cried out from the distant treeline.
Head snapping up, she immediately found the source. If not for being so pissed off, she would've been embarrassed by the failure to detect any other chakra signatures. For a natural sensor and possessor of powerful Kekkei Mora, it should have been impossible to miss a glaring detail such as the three living beings standing fifty meters ahead. Perhaps she had noticed them, but was too busy groveling in angst to acknowledge it.
That had to be it.
Her ethereal gaze traveled over the three humans- Shinobi, she guessed, judging by the hitai-ates Toneri had told her about- who stood at the edge of the crater. The one who'd spoken was mirroring her raised fist, his strange bushy eyebrows contorted into an expression of chronic and possibly terminal over-enthusiasm. To his right was a muscular woman with chocolate colored buns on either side of her head, mouth agape in abject horror. She wondered how much they saw, fervently hoping they'd missed her unsightly transformation.
The answer stood to the left of the green dude, where a tall man with long black hair and bright violet eyes was staring at her with a mixture of disgust and confusion.
Damn. Yes, she was certain now that they had seen.
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Land of Fire - Warring States Era
The orchestrations of battle pervaded the area around him: swords clashed, armor clattered, flesh tore, men grunted and screamed as they ripped the lives out of one another, all-together composing a magnificent and terrifying symphony. Suffocating, the stench of blood and death and earth clung to everything, lingering in the lower atmosphere like a noxious fog. His chest burned as ragged breaths forced their way through the cracked lips of his arid mouth, desperate to gather more oxygen for his aching lungs and tired muscles. If he paused for even a moment he would surely collapse from exhaustion; it is always harder to start moving again than to keep doing so without stopping in the first place.
Izuna Uchiha had never felt more alive.
Dipping underneath and dodging around the pointed blows of his enemies with ease, Izuna displayed his impressive skill and expertise in taijutsu even without the employ of his sharingan. Using his katana, he cut down the Senju's men left and right, the blade becoming a vessel for his hatred of the rival clan. Blood sprayed across his face and wet his black hair as he slit the throat of the shinobi unfortunate enough to wind up in front of him. He licked his lips to taste the mess he'd created, grinning victoriously while he watched the body collapse, the partially decapitated head of that poor Senju fool bouncing against the rocks as it fell. Lifeless eyes stared into the sky, and for a brief moment Izuna wondered what it was the dead were seeing, why they were always looking up.
A flash of white hair caught his attention, coaxing him back into the fray of combat. Metallic ringing filled his ears when his blade clanged against Tobirama Senju's ninjatō, the sound resonating high-pitched and clear like a bell used to signal the beginning of a spar - yet this was far from a duel between comrades.
The rest of the world faded from perception, giving way to a deafening silence; violence and instinct took over Izuna's mind and body while he fought ferociously against his sworn nemesis. Sharingan crimson challenged albino red, gazes locked as they danced around death, with the guided elegance in each step accentuated by the melodic cries of their fallen clansmen. Shadows being all that remained of the aforementioned men around them, a lone figure in Izuna's periphery jutted out from the mist, snaring his attention like a feline beast latching onto the throat of unsuspecting prey, and-
The God in the Moon must come down soon.
Eyes snapped to the horizon at the behest of the stranger's cryptic, nonsensical voice inside of his head. It was night. The stars winked down at him in sinister flirtations; the unknown beckoning with the long, curling claws of a predator. Only a moment ago it was mid-morning; how long had he been fighting? It was a relief to find reprieve - always fighting, they were always fighting. He was tired of fighting, he decided; tired of funerals, tired of falling asleep to the wails of bereaved mothers as they held tight the cold remains of their slaughtered children, tired of the haunted looks in his relative's eyes, the same look his own bore; tired of council meetings filled with hopeless optimism, of frivolous desires for a peace that would either never come or if it did, would never last.
The battlefield was again devoid of sound or motion, the air stagnant and chilled. Warmth pooled around him, thick with the metallic scent of hemoglobin as it bombarded his olfactory senses with particulate erythrocytes. Blood. His blood, spilling from the mutilated clump of tissue that was formerly his abdomen, cradling his body as it grew cold.
Confusing at first; what weapon would cause such a mess? Surely the sleek form of a steel sword would not. A faint twitch of his fingers brought with it the realization that the hand preceding them was entangled within the wound, bound to it by the gristle and sinew viciously torn from his entrails, as if he had been mutilating his own-
Blinking at the night sky, his mind suddenly cleared of all previous thought; there was no pain, his nervous system had long since gone into and beyond hypovolemic shock. The Moon swallowed his vision and consumed his soul. His everything. Madara. His brother. The God; the Moon. He stopped the God, didn't he - he sure hoped so. Or was it the other way around?
Madara and the Moon. The only two things that mattered. His everything.
The night was dark. Too dark. Oh, God, oh god when did the sky become so dark?
He was unable to look away from its omnipotent gaze. Blood red, swirling with rings, swimming with tomoe. Ichi, ni, san, shi, go, roku, shichi, hachi, kyu; he counted nine magatama. It was divine, complete, final: the Moon will take care of him, of everyone. The alpha and omega, the first and the last, the beginning and - and it is everything, nothing. It is infinite.
Izuna understands now, why the dead are always looking up. He sees it, too.
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Present - Konohagakure
They arrived at the so-called village less than an hour later. She was unimpressed, to say the least. The village sat in the center of what seemed to be a massive crater. A wide road cut through the middle, surrounded by newly constructed buildings. The buildings were mostly small and wooden, with some larger constructs in progress. Practically everything was wood, now that she looked closer. Did they not have other materials? What a massive fire hazard, perhaps that's why the country was named what it was.
Her eyes were drawn to a mountain just beyond the far edge of the crater, where the faces of four men and one woman had been sculpted into the rock. judging the people below with their stony eyes and upturned noses.
"What happened here? Do all of your mountains have faces?" she asked, stopping to take in the sorry state of their home.
"You're not in a position to be asking questions," Neji replied, applying pressure to the kunai at her back to get them moving again. They both knew that what he said was bullshit- given what he had just seen- but he honestly didn't know what else to tell her in this fucked situation they'd gotten into.
Aratashiki huffed in annoyance but stopped her questioning for the moment and subtly turned her palms towards the ground. "Fine, I'll just see for myself."
In true ignoramus fashion, she wasted an ass-load of chakra searching through their timeline until she found the thing that had caused such destruction. An emaciated, red-haired dude controlling six emo-looking ginger-haired corpses as if they were puppets had leveled the entire village using an attack that was strikingly similar to one of her own abilities. However, he was stopped by another dude who had the complexion of a tennis ball and three massive, amphibious companions. And no, the brightly-colored defender did not beat their attacker by using chakra abilities to overpower them, but rather with an emotional monologue in which he pointed out the hypocrisy of the red-haired villain. The guy had a good message, but the success of it all was a bit absurd; such a thing had only seemed possible to her within the throes of some fantastical dream. Witnessing the success of a non-violent resolution almost gave Aratashiki hope. Angry skeleton-man's eyes, however, were a point of interest.
'Pain'. The image of a human with the rinnegan - a Kekkei Mora characteristic of her own species - filled Aratashiki's mind. He had even mastered control over the human spiritual realm, as evidenced by his redemption via the resurrection of those he had killed during the assault; but it seems Pain lacked the chakra to survive the use of this ability. Such was often the nature of performing an act of God. Very intriguing, this was to her; perhaps there is more to this species than meets the eye, if they can evolve that particular Dojutsu. She knew there was a reason she felt drawn to them, other than being one of the numerous targets of her clan.
She nearly collapsed from exhaustion, the insides of her skull battered by the brief but explosive migraine that always accompanied the use of her time-related abilities. With Tenten now supporting her arms to keep her upright, the group guided - or rather, dragged - Aratashiki off of the main road towards a small wooden home set apart from the rest. As in, located away from them. It was just as drab and rushed-looking as the rest; not that she could blame them for the hurried construction, after witnessing the cause behind their need to rebuild so quickly. But really, who puts their leader in such shabby lodgings? It seemed disrespectful to Aratashiki, but perhaps that was just the brainwashing of her own culture - in which they worshiped the Emperor as a God of Gods - speaking. An idolization that, perhaps, was detrimental in many ways.
The exterior of the cabin was surrounded by several serious looking shinobi, who tensed and withdrew their weapons upon the group's approach. Aratashiki was too tired to bother with trying to assess their abilities, but she did pick up on their anxiety. One thing she was starting to notice about humans is that they are very blatant and open about their emotions; compared to her own people, it was as if some of them thought out-loud. The Otsutsuki, by contrast, had a standardized practice of repressing their own thoughts and emotions using a psychic ward of sorts, and did so specifically to guard against empaths and unwanted telepathic communications. This method was so essential to them that it was taught as soon as a child began their education.
"We must speak with Lady Hokage urgently!" Lee said, raising his hands up as if to calm the guards. Unfortunately, Lee couldn't have calmed down a rock even if his life depended on it.
As expected, the guards did not stand down. Just as Aratashiki opened her mouth to speak, a young woman with short black hair and a small pink animal in her arms stepped out from behind a curtain covering the entry. Aratashiki had never seen something exactly like the tiny beast; at first she thought it might have been a hog, but surely a hog could never be so adorable. The creature in her arms squealed in terror, and the woman holding it startled in reaction to Aratashiki's foreign appearance. She began frantically swatting the multicolored fabric-curtain covering the doorway, not taking her eyes off of the visitor for a single second as she did so.
"Lady Tsunade! Lady Tsunade, I think you should see this...person!"
An annoyed voice grumbled from within the hut. "Shizune, just bring them to me, dammit!"
The naivety of her suggestion surprised Aratashiki. Was it not both reckless and dangerous for a leader to suggest bringing a complete stranger and potential threat directly into their quarters? It was something Junichiro would do, but only because - as far as he was concerned - he'd never encountered a legitimate threat.
"Uh, y-yes Lady Tsunade!" The woman, Shizune, approached their group cautiously, the dark material of her kimono rustling slightly as she stopped a safe distance away from Aratashiki. A very safe distance, seeing as she had only taken three steps; it was almost offensive. Really, Aratashiki did not think she was scary looking, especially when compared to the vast majority of her clansmen. There certainly were some unfortunate looking individuals, to say the least. Shizune finally tore her eyes away and addressed her captors. "Neji, bring her inside. Tenten, Lee- please go and find Kakashi. Hurry!"
The latter two scurried off to find this mysterious 'scarecrow' person while Neji forced Aratashiki to walk forwards again. Shizune held the curtain open for them, leaning as far away from the guest as possible when they entered. A blonde woman with a large bosom and a small, purple rhombus marking on her forehead sat behind a low wooden table, empty ramen bowls piled high on either side of her. It seemed like she had just rolled out of bed and binged on several weeks worth of meals. Two guards were positioned at both ends of the room, each with their hand over their weapon pouches; one of them looked at her with particular disdain, with a senbon sticking out of his mouth. Aratashiki cringed, imagining him swallowing it by accident.
Using her sensory abilities, she examined the blonde figure in front of her. From what she could tell this woman had impressive chakra for a human; she was definitely their leader. That mark on her forehead almost looked like karma, and it seemed to be connected to her chakra pathways as well. Aratashiki wondered if human breast size was related to their chakra reserves; to investigate she would need to use her byakugan, and that would likely put the humans on edge.
Tsunade's large brown eyes finally looked in her direction, widening when they tried to comprehend what she was seeing and, more specifically, what she had just heard. Whoever this person was had a lot of guts saying exactly what was on their mind. Who does that?
Paralyzed with fear, Aratashiki came to the horrific realization that she had been thinking out loud.
An unfortunate side effect of being held in solitary confinement for years .
Shizune, Neji, and Tsunade all gaped at her in disbelief as she started to blush from embarrassment. Neji coughed, fumbling his kunai and dropping it onto the floor where it landed with a soft thud; the man chewing on a senbon nearly did swallow the needle-like weapon. The sound of Neji's kunai hitting the floor seemed to dispel Tsunade's shock, and she threw her head back to let out a loud cackle - clutching at her sides and knocking over several of the bowls in the process. Shizune giggled nervously, while Neji remained completely silent and stood as stiff as a board.
The distress emanating from the young man nearly drowned out the playful aura surrounding his Hokage, which was confusing to Aratashiki. Perhaps Neji had an aversion to breasts, she thought. After a few moments Tsunade regained control of her breathing and settled down, fanning her face while looking up at Aratashiki.
"Who - no, what - the hell are you?" She asked.
"I am High Priestess Aratashiki Otsutsuki, daughter of Emperor Junichiro Otsutsuki of the Otsutsuki clan. I am here to inquire about the whereabouts of a clansmen named Kaguya Otsutsuki, who disappeared after being sent to Earth." She finished her painfully flowery introduction with a deep bow of respect, praying that no secret doors had opened up in its wake.
Best to stick to formalities, Aratashiki thought, on the off-chance that they'd already endured the misfortune of being made cognizant of her people's existence.
"Hmm, and what exactly are your intentions?"
Clearing her throat, Aratashiki repeated her earlier statement. "As I said, Hokage-sama, I simply wish to locate my fellow clansmen, Kaguya. I neither intend to nor am I interested in harming you and your people. Forgive me for saying this, but if that were my intention you would already be long dead."
Misinterpreting her words as a threat, the two guards withdrew their weapons and advanced towards Aratashiki. Oops. At times she had a way with words, and at other times not so much. When it came to the shit she came up with, the odds were good but the goods were odd. She referred to the phenomenon as her 'curse of stupidity', and it usually activated whenever she was extremely nervous.
Tsunade stood, holding out her arms to halt their advance. "Stand down - Genma, Iwashi."
Both shinobi stopped, but did not retreat to their earlier positions or stow their weapons. The tense silence that followed Tsunade's order was only broken when a grey-haired man with a mask covering half of his face stepped into the room. Immediately, Aratashiki felt a douchebag vibe from him. The arrogant kind. Aratashiki's gaze latched onto the man, taking notice of the Sharingan in his left eye - a comparatively weak derivative of the Rinnegan - that seemed to be an artificial addition to his original biology; Aratashiki wondered if their species dabbled in biomedical enhancements as well. When their eyes met she opened her mouth to question him about it, but was cut off by Tsunade. A blessing, as she was probably bound to say something divisive.
"Kakashi, thank you for coming on such short notice. Everyone else, out!" Shizune and the guards began to leave, and Neji's presence behind Aratashiki retreated as he tried to escape. "Not you, Neji. Stay here."
Squashing his discontent Neji gave a short bow, resuming his position slightly behind and to the side of Aratashiki. She cursed to herself, suddenly remembering the state of her appearance and feeling self-conscious.
She couldn't negotiate with potential allies looking like this - what a disaster that would be! She should just...no, she shouldn't. No. At this rate she was going to be out of chakra, as she hadn't yet regenerated the energy wasted by her previous activities, making her vulnerable to an attack. Fuck it all, she decided. She really ought to clean up a bit.
Tsunade began speaking again, addressing the newcomer Kakashi. "This is-"
Twitching her fingers discreetly, Aratashiki blinked rapidly to manifest her rinnegan and slowed time to an infinitesimal crawl. Letting loose a dramatic sigh, she quickly rolled out her tense shoulders, needing to hurry before her chakra was dangerously depleted. She created a specular reflection of herself by gathering moisture from the air and pooling it into a smooth surface, and examined the state of her being.
"Fuck, I can't believe I've been looking so ratché this entire time…"
Heat rose to her cheeks as a fresh wave of embarrassment set in. Her hair was dry, tinted yellow-brown from dirt and kami knew what else, and her braid was lopsided. There was blood smeared on her horn from when her hand whacked it as well. She brought the hand in question up to her face for inspection, but the wound was already healed. Looking down, she saw that mud had caked onto her bare feet and legs, and the pale blue kimono she adorned was now tattered and stained.
What a great first impression she was making.
Raising her arm to her face, she gave it a good sniff and recoiled from the pungent odor of ozone and charred earth.
Kaguya would never have let herself look this bad, and she refused to be one-upped by someone like her, whom she believed to be a harlot.
Aratashiki did an impromptu jumpy-dance to motivate herself and then got to work, using more moisture from the air to scrub the grime and dirt out of her skin and hair. Now clean and wet, she gathered heated chakra around her hands and used it to dry everything out. Consulting her reflection for support, Aratashiki wove her hair into a much more elegant braid than the first. The kimono was still a disaster, but so was her life thus far. Besides, maybe it would make her look tough and relatable, or something.
Feeling much cleaner and satisfied well-enough with her appearance, Aratashiki blinked and returned time to its usual pace while trying not to let her renewed exhaustion show, making sure to conceal her rinnegan once again in favor of her 'default' irises.
"-Aratashiki Otsutsuki…." Tsunade stopped and they all stared at Aratashiki, who was smiling innocently.
Seizing the conversation before any comments were made regarding how and when she took an imperceptible shower, Aratashiki turned to the man named Kakashi. "I see you possess the sharingan. Are you a descendant of Kaguya as well?"
Kakashi raised an eyebrow, but did not answer. Instead, he turned to Tsunade, the two exchanging a knowing look. "Absolutely no one can know about this, especially not outside of the village. Not until we know more."
"I know. This has to remain completely confidential," Tsunade replied, with a pointed glance towards the young Hyuga in the room. "And, there is only one other village official with any knowledge on the 'Otsutsuki' clan that Madara spoke of at the summit." Their gazes turned simultaneously and landed on Neji, who was confused and becoming more agitated with each passing minute.
"I'm afraid I don't understand what I have to do with any of this," Neji stated.
Aratashiki was relieved by the prospect of at least one of these human clans having knowledge of their ancestry.
"Not you," Tsunade said, folding her hands together and resting her chin on top of them. "Your Uncle."