Tsunade entered the hospital the second it was open to visitors. The nurses were finishing their rounds, many plastering their faces to their charts when she passed. Well, never mind, she wasn't here for herself. It was less ignorable when she asked the receptionist for Orochimaru's room and was summoned the director of the hospital herself.
She said, "I'm afraid I must ask you to leave."
"I… beg your pardon?" Tsunade said, straining to understand the meaning under the director's buzzing. An Aburame by marriage, she hadn't gotten her position by annoying people on whimsy, but Tsunade's hackles rose anyway. Shut up, fox, this is too early for your nonsense.
"Orochimaru-kun is not yet capable of receiving visitors; he was admitted with a severe case of meridian necrosis in addition to the stab wound." She needn't explain more: often fatal in civilians or crippling as in Grandma's case, and almost exclusively caused by the Kyūbi's chakra.
Except Tsunade hadn't even touched Orochimaru while the red chakra coursed through her. Except under the soft light of the morning her memory was a pale thing. Easier to doubt awkward and macabre Orochimaru had used his body to shield her. Maybe Kabema had been defending Orochimaru from Tsunade.
The director was still talking, and her tongue was a broken wing desperate to take flight. She was saying, probably, "Not all the victims of the Kyūbi's attack last week have recovered yet. I'm sure you understand – you were an excellent medic-nin, for your age – for their and your friend's sake, it's best that you leave."
Outside, Tsunade ran into Jiraiya, who twirled out of the way. Claws shot out and clamped around his wrist anyway. Momentum kept her towing until she no longer felt like she was about to spew blood. There was a park near the hospital, where a giant sandalwood tree enjoyed its reputation as the first tree the Shodai Hokage planted. It stank of sulphur, as if to remind her that privacy was a privilege, and that she no longer had it.
"Excuse you, princess," said Jiraiya, and reminded, she dropped her hold. Fingers, she had fingers, not claws.
"Shut up," Tsunade said distractedly. "Just tell me the truth. Did I… touch Orochimaru?" Jiraiya raised an eyebrow. "With the Kyūbi's chakra, you perverted giant bleached beanstalk."
"If it's those stupid ANBU giving you a hard time – "
"It's not," Tsunade said, and explained as simply as she could get away with.
The colour drained from Jiraiya's face, but he gamely said, "Eh, like I said, Orochimaru's too weird to die the human way. Like, did he ever show you his tongue technique? I'm not supposed to tell you, but – "
"I'll show you where to put your stupid tongue," Tsunade snarled. She pinched her nose; it didn't help with sting of enbalming sticking to the roof of her mouth.
Jiraiya, for his part, looked past her shoulder. "See, it looked like you were trying to heal him, yeah? 'Cuz that's what you always do for us. So when he got worse I just sorta assumed the sword was poisoned."
For a moment there was only the wind. The clouds parted, allowing shadows to suddenly sprang from under their feet. Jiraiya swore. "I'm supposed to leave in the afternoon," he explained, grin flaring like a peacock's tail. "B-rank, just me and a princess. Oh, and a jōnin, but details."
"So? A promotion to chūnin means you're qualified to lead a squad. We were never meant to stay in our genin team forever. But then, I suppose not all of us is ready. Bet you your entire fortune you haven't even packed."
Jiraiya frowned. "You know, since I'm going to Uzushio and all I was gonna be nice and ask what you'd want, but suit yourself."
"I have family there anyway, don't pull your niceness fibres on my behalf." Family that she had never known, but he didn't have to know that.
Jiraiya stuck his tongue and turned to leave. Good riddance. Flaunting his privileges one second and the next upset she didn't praise him for leaving her with her little furry problem and their almost-dead third member. Yes, good riddance to Jiraiya and Orochimaru, pests both.
Tsunade blinked once, twice, thrice. She took a deep breath, then two. In between being horrified that she was fast turning into an emotional goop, and trying very hard not to imagine that inevitability, she called Jiraiya. He paused mid-stride, one knee held aloft in air. "Don't… Don't do anything that would embarrass Saru-sensei, yeah? And if you join Orochimaru in the hospital, I swear I'll make sure you stay there for a year."
Jiraiya executed an impressively smooth twirl and bow, not that she'd ever tell him so. The peacock grin was back, and he said, "Fear not, my flat-chested princess, I, the gallant Jiraiya, shall – " A pebble whizzed past his ear. "Okay, okay, I'm going already."
Under her glare his shadow vanished into the clouds as surely as the ANBU's hung onto her. Tsunade muttered, "I don't suppose Hokage-sama wants me right now?" and, as expected, received no answer. No training, no medical anything, and at this hour her grumpy duckling wasn't home yet to distract her. She was tired, but falling into deep sleep always plunged her into the red seas. She could pull herself awake for now, but maybe one day she would open her eyes to a red world. Tsunade shuddered at the thought.
A gaggle of women followed her back to the Senju complex – or she had followed them, rather. Chattering amongst themselves, gawking and pointing at everything, they could only be tourists. Tsunade spent an entirely too much time trying to predict their stories based on their accent and fashion style. The capital, merchants' wives or merchants themselves, recklessly entering coming into a shinobi village without any escort. Randomly they veered to the west – Tokuma-san's bakery shop, she guessed, if anything in the Senju district was ever a tourist trap it was that. Tsunade kept straight. From then it was blissful silence and solitude, until she reached her destination.
"Yo, Tsunade-hime," said Ryūnosuke, red-faced and nearly planting his face as he rose. His red-nosed buddy, Seima, continued singing out-of-tune snatches of bawdy songs. Ryūnosuke shouted over him, "Come join Ryū-jichan for a drink!"
"Horndog," Seima said. He tried slapping Ryūnosuke and missed by an arm's length, and hit Ryūnosuke's cane.
Tsunade sighed and greeted them and excused herself, all of which were ignored as the two old men argued over who should have died to Iwa. She went around Seima's house. The clan archives was a tiny outhouse attached to the dwelling of the current maintainer. Tsunade had always thought of it as a shrine. One went in, hands clasped in prayer, and with some luck came out with a smattering of wisdom among the dust.
She found Tatema inside, balancing a pyramid of scrolls in his arms. Tatema was a decent sensor, a trait most useful for identifying visitors without turning around and knocking into stuff. He said, "Hello, Tsunade-hime. On scale from a cat on catnip to the beggar god, how drunk is my father?"
"He was snatching Ryūnosuke-san's cane just fine."
"Give him five more seconds." He looked around, where there was a distinct lack of empty space, and clucked his tongue pensively.
"I can help," offered Tsunade.
"Oh. I was… Yes, if you would be so kind as to wipe the shelves while I sort these…"
There was only one case on each side, but she could not reach the top shelves even with a stepladder. An Academy brat would simply walk up the wall. Tsunade was reduced to flogging at imaginary Kyūbi and Sarutobi-shaped dust bunnies.
"I saw some ladies from the capital just now," she said, because silence was annoying. "Is it just me, or do we have more tourists than clan lately?"
"Mm… Just the season. It's almost summer up at Uzushio… But to what do I owe this pleasure, Tsunade-hime? Did you change your mind about books?"
"Nope! I came to see you, Tatema-niisan. Books are boring. They're dead and don't talk to each other, but you're smart and you synthesise 'em into something a plebeian can understand."
Tatema chuckled. Sunlight gleamed off his bald head, making stark the absence of the beard he'd been trying to grow ever since he could. "All right, what do you want synthesised?"
Tsunade hadn't dared to sleep after last night's dream, and wound up thinking too much about the Kyūbi instead. It was not mindless, though it perceived everything of humanity as trash. The demon was almost self-righteous in its hatred. But the same dream was also a cherished moment, and if so, there had been a beloved someone. Or someones – what if there were more demons like it? There was a demon in her belly and she didn't know anything about it, and Tsunade intended to change that.
Tatema was silent for so long that she tensed, prepared for flight. But then he spoke, "There's not much, I'm afraid. It's all old wives' tale – be good or the Kyūbi no Yōko will gobble you; where the heaven is crooked the demon fox grows fat – punishment from the gods for decadent and depraved civilisations. Whatever it is, no shinobi has fought it and lived to tell the tale. Until the venerable Mito-sama, that is."
"Really?"
"Even among the Uzumaki, Mito-sama is considered a master; not even Kabema would contest that." Tsunade looked up at his wistful note, but Tatema seemed keen on the closed scroll in his hand.
"He's your friend," Tsunade said in a small voice. It was coming back to her now. Tatema and Kabema and another cousin long dead, three lanky boys with heads bent together in their own corner while the adults carried on. More people to apologise to. More people to watch her back around?
The apology was at the back of her throat when Tatema said, "I haven't spoken to him in a long time, even before ANBU. The appointment made sense, in hindsight… and not interesting to you." A trick of the light made it seemed as though his ears were pulled back. Which was ridiculous; Tatema wasn't an animal.
"Nii-san, are you afraid of me?" She was suddenly aware they were alone – the ANBU would have gladly sat out. Tatema abruptly stood and approached. He towered over her, and he had been shinobi as long as she had been alive. He had chakra at his disposal, and she did not. He was so close she could smell his cheap, stale aftershave, mixed with sweat… and just a little rotten egg. Sulphur. And a mask would go very well with a complete lack of hair, wouldn't it?
Pointing at one of the lower shelves, Tatema muttered, "Missed a spot," and Tsunade obliged him. When she looked up, he was smiling, but it was the sort of blandness an enemy shinobi would have sported while assessing her threat level. "Sorry, I thought you would prefer that I act as though nothing has happened. But I can be afraid if you wish."
Tsunade spluttered. "What do you mean – so all this time – all this time you played with me, you were nice to me because of my grandfather? My grandmother? Because you're so chivalrous and I'm the princess?" Sparks flew as she screamed. Tatema flinched, and it was all it took for her to punch him in the solar plexus, and flew over his crumpled form.
Somehow the ANBU allowed her to go home. The smell of burned jasmine reached her first, and she drew back from the door as it opened. Hōka seemed as surprised as Tsunade felt. "Oh, Mito-sama hadn't expected you to be back so soon."
"Did you get lost on the way to the Uchiha compound," growled Tsunade.
Hōka's smile was out of place on her angular face, like she was borrowing a prettier girl's lips. But Grandma's voice bade them both to come in, so Tsunade bristled past the Uchiha and into the living room. Sure enough, when she entered Sakuya was serving Grandma tea. Like Hōka she was dressed in black, her red mane left unbound and needing to be swept back every few seconds. Tsunade bit back a groan. Great, not one but two on her list of people too familiar to see often.
"These two lovely young ladies are kind enough to spend time with an old lady," said Grandma with her behave-or-else undertone.
"It's what my mother would have wanted," Sakuya said. Right, Kuzunoha-san and Grandma had been childhood friends, and when Grandma moved to Konoha she had followed. Kuzunoha-san was not a rare sight in Grandma's house, and neither was her youngest daughter, Tsunade's sometimes babysitter. The Kyūbi incident had claimed Kuzunoha-san, too. Tsunade wondered how Grandma felt about that.
"So, smuggling an Uchiha into the Senju compound?" And Hōka could not look more like the quintessential Uchiha woman than if she'd been the first Uchiha herself. Dark hair, dark eyes, and well-defined bones… actually, she just looked like she hadn't been eating.
Sakuya sipped her tea, drawing out the seconds before answering. "I don't know about you, but I believed in the Shodai Hokage's way. You know, peace and harmony between the clans."
The Uchiha let out a muffled groan, but it was Grandma's weary sigh that got to them. Sakuya smiled apologetically at her and stood, bowing.
"Sorry, sorry, youthful impetuousness and all that. But I do really and truly admire Hashirama-sama. Anywho, since Tsunade-hime is here, we'll take our leave. Wish you good health and a speedy recovery, Mito-sama."
"Honestly," Hōka mumbled under her breath as the door could be heard opening and closing. She then went to collect the tea set.
"What are you doing?" Tsunade began, but Grandma's cane tripped her before she could snatch the tray.
Hōka said, "At least allow me to carry this to the kitchen."
It was such an obvious ploy to spy on the layout of her house. It was also just weird Hōka, polite as ever to a girl half her size. The kitchen wasn't hidden anyway, nestled in the back of the house as it was. Tsunade had just cleaned it this morning while waiting for the hospital's opening hours, so she let Hōka in. "Why're you here, really? You know Touka-sama doesn't like having your clan in here."
"Ah, we'd thought Kabema-kun's funeral was this morning, but Mito-sama said it was this evening? Either way, we'd been meaning to visit at some point."
She watched Hōka hesitate, then started washing the dishes. Did she know how Kabema had died, and blamed Tsunade for it? "You knew him?"
"He was in our class at the Academy, one of the last ones remaining. Sakuya, Kabema-kun, myself…"
"And that boy who's always with the two of you, your genin teammate?"
"Sagiri," Hōka said. She set the dishes aside, and dried her hands on her shirt. Tsunade held her breath against the vengeful storm of burnt flowers. She had a sinking feeling what Hōka's answer was going to be, but asked about him anyway. "The demon fox got to him, too. So please don't be too hard on Sakuya."
"Oh. Uh, sorry for your loss."
There was an odd shine to her eyes, and as Tsunade braced herself for the awkwardness of tears, the fox raised her heckles. Hōka noticed, and asked what was wrong. She seemed a little skeptical of Tsunade's dismissal, but said, "For what it's worth, I don't blame either you or Mito-sama, and neither does Sakuya. At any rate, my offer still stands. If there's anything I can do…"
Hōka's offer had stood for years, and only she took it seriously. Tsunade started shaking her head, but it occurred to her there was something. "Wait, you're an Uchiha."
"Yes, thank you, I was so close to forgetting – "
Tsunade clucked her tongue. "Oh, stop being petty for a second. You have the fancy wheel eyes." Hōka stared. "The Sharingan, whatever. The only weapon that can subdue the demon fox."
That got her attention. Tsunade quickly explained, in broad terms, of her need to learn to utilise the fox's chakra, and the need for a safety precaution, which was where the Sharingan would come in.
Hōka didn't answer immediately. Her eyes seemed to flatten, becoming incandescent – was she going to demonstrate after all? Finally, she said, "Kabema-kun's sparring accident. It was you."
It didn't sound like an accusation… yet… but Hōka deserved to know what she was getting into, too. Reluctantly, Tsunade said, "The seal isn't perfect, and a bit of its chakra can leak if I'm not careful. I can't afford to lose control again. Ideally I'd train with Hokage-sama, but I can't afford to wait on him either. You won't be doing a favour just to me; you'd be keeping the village safe, too."
"Because I'm an Uchiha, therefore I'm a policewoman," Hōka said sardonically.
Tsunade shrugged. "I wouldn't ask this of just about any Uchiha. But I know you, and you're good. We'll finally be even. Unless you'd rather teach me that nifty fireball trick your clan favours. Oh, or a spare fancy wheel eyeball will do, and then you'll never have to bother with me again."
"Don't push it, kid. But," Hōka added with a wry smile, "I'm glad you're still you." Even so, she would only agreed so far as to proposition the Hokage. Which, fair enough, Tsunade was asking a lot from someone she barely knew, and an Uchiha at that. She let Hōka go after excusing herself to Grandma.
