The entire Senju clan turned up for Kabema's funeral, all of the fifty some people still lingering in the village, even Nawaki. He clung to Tsunade with one hand as the other sneakily tried to loosen his obi, until she squeezed his hand as warning. After wrestling Nawaki into his formal blacks and helping Grandma with hers, Tsunade thought she understood why most kunoichi chose to retire upon marriage (the rush to reach that state, not so much). She still didn't understand why Nawaki had to come along when her brother had to be reminded, just now, that Kabema, the only other descendant of their great-great-grandfather, had existed, at least until Tsunade had ended it. But Grandma had kept the last to herself, and accordingly Tsunade didn't mention how close Nawaki had been to be in Tōka's position.

Tsunade's little family had the front row. She watched Tōka lower a small white box containing all that was left of Kabema the plot marked for her branch of the clan. His shinobi paraphernalia: a sword, a hastily reconstructed porcelain mask still bloody and missing chunks, and a forehead protector. Then on top of the box, the six gold coins for the crossing.

And that was that.

With the hole covered, the entire clan seemed to have found their breath again, and as one they moved into the communion hall where there were food and booze. The most important part of a funeral that she would sadly have to miss due to her responsibilities. The old one was tired and hiding it, the small one was tired and wanted everyone to know about it.

"Can we go home now? I'm sleepy," said Nawaki.

"Sure you are, pipsqueak," replied Tsunade as she handed Grandma to him – or Nawaki to a wry Grandma – and told him to be good.

Kagami had snuck in at the back like a tardy schoolboy. Being the Hokage, though, they couldn't just ignore him, and Tsunade had to rescue him from a persistent auntie and her mortified daughter.

"You're not wearing your robe," observed Tsunade once she had Kagami to herself. Without it and in plain black clothes, he was still tall, dark, and as handsome as any other interchangeable Uchiha man. He wasn't smiling, which took off a lot of the charm.

"I shouldn't be here long. Kabema was one of my ANBU; I'd like to pay my respect to his clan head." He glanced to where Tōka was deep in conversation with several of the older men of the clan.

"Yeah, uh, Tōka-sama's his mother too. They don't look alike, though, so most people don't know unless they're told."

Kagami pushed back a stray bang out of his eye. There was a slope to his shoulders that hadn't existed before his promotion. He seemed to be more tired than Sarutobi ever got to be. Finally, he said, "How are you, Tsunade?"

"Peachy keen," she answered glibly, "and since Mito-obaasama fixed the seal before we left I'm in no danger of blowing up on anyone."

He gave her a stern look. "You are standing before the grave of the man who died to your recklessness. I had hoped you would have had the sense to learn to be more responsible."

So because she was lucky enough to survive everyone decided Kabema was the true victim, even Kagami. Though she wondered why she thought he would be different; the hat seemed to have robbed him of sense of humour.

"Although it's my responsibility, too." Kagami grimaced. "I have some time tomorrow; we can begin your training. But after that…"

"Actually," Tsunade said, "I've asked Hōka to help in case you were busy. With your permission, Hokage-sama."

"Hōka? Setsuna's girl?" Kagami seemed surprised, even concerned.

"Assuming that all that's needed is the Sharingan, she's a pretty good kunoichi. And I'm fairly sure she has absolutely no intentions of finishing what her father started or anything like that." After all, Hōka had gone behind Setsuna's back to rescue Tsunade, therefore dooming her own father, for the First Hokage hadn't taken kindly to the Uchiha ransoming his granddaughter for more power for the clan.

"No. She was exonerated by Hashirama-sensei himself. I didn't realise you were friends." He frowned, then shook his head. "We'll see. If you'll excuse me."

Tōka had approached Grandma, so they wound up going in the same direction anyway. Nawaki had pulled up a branch out of nowhere – oh, right, he could totally do that now – and with an exaggerated look of strain he made the branch grew and popped fresh leaves.

"Ah," said Tōka quietly. "That is indeed something I would like to know. Thank you, Nawaki. And congratulations."

"What do you say to Tōka-sama?" Grandma said.

"Huh? Oh, okay, I'm sorry for your loss!" He said this with a clumsy bow.

Tōka must have known Tsunade was nearby, for she said, "And your sister, is she also sorry?"

Oho, now she cares about apologies, thought Tsunade. Well, Tōka-sama, once returned it's off the table. But Grandma was watching her, so Tsunade bit her tongue.

Grandma said, "Tōka-san, you are grieving. Please don't say anything you would regret later in front of our esteemed Hokage. Good evening, Kagami-sama, I regret I cannot stay. Come, Tsunade."

Tōka nodded distractedly at Kagami, but her focus was still on Grandma. "Wait. Tsunade stays. Ah, Tatema, you will escort Mito-sama home, won't you?" Tatema looked like he'd rather dance with a giant centipede, but Tōka went on. "Tsunade is not a child anymore. It is time she learns her responsibilities."

"Is Tsunade-neechan in trouble?" Nawaki said suddenly, doe eyes aimed at Kagami. "Are you going to punish her? Please don't punish Nee-chan. Nee-chan could be really scary and tough and loud but she's not bad!"

Kagami shot Tsunade a questioning look, but he was genial as he knelt and looked him in the eye, and explained that no, Tsunade hadn't done anything wrong, and she wouldn't be punished. Nawaki wouldn't leave until Tsunade herself chimed in, and saw him off hanging from Tatema's bald head.

With Tōka, the Hokage was all formality: he expressed his condolences, Tōka offered hospitality, and he very regretfully refused. The offer only came once, Tsunade noted – Hokage or not, the Senju was still not too thrilled to have an Uchiha among them. Although she could very well believe Kagami-sama would prefer work to a party.

Thus deserted, Tōka beckoned Tsunade to come with her. "How old are you, Tsunade?"

"Twelve," was the reluctant answer. Tōka had to have known, she was that kind of a clan head.

"Use your head, you stupid girl. What would I gain from harming you?"

The leaves rustled where they went. Like everything else in the village it had been Grandpa's handiwork, and now the graveyard was infested with frangipani and jasmine and all the white and sweetly fragrant flowering trees that ever existed. One squeaked. To Tsunade's disappointment, Tōka ignored the kissing cousins, and went straight inside. There was a table set for the bereaved party, though a lot of them were unoccupied anyway. Tōka sat and continued as though she hadn't been interrupted. "It occurred to me that all this could have been avoided if you had had a proper channel for your boundless energy."

In other words, gossiping. Minutiae of the lives of people whom Tsunade knew theoretically existed within the clan, but never had a reason to talk to. For the night she was Tōka's shadow, seen but not heard unless spoken to, and everyone wanted to speak to her, at least for a little. And because Tōka was the clan head, it was literally everyone, one after another coming to their little corner, an endless stream of condolences to the bereaved and innocuous small talk when it wasn't fearful not-so-subtle glances to Tsunade. There was a constant stream of alcohol too.

If Grandpa had been here, he would have pointed out how admirable Tōka was, doing her duty and caring for everyone else when it was her night to grieve. But he wasn't, Tōka was deep in her cups by now, and Tsunade was sick. Sick of the cloying smell of incense and white chrysanthemum, sick of the laughter in the far-off corner, of the people so used to funerals they were treating each as a night out in a bar. This was surely Tōka's revenge. Tsunade had killed before, but she'd never had to live with the victim's family. Hell was her own clan.

She wished the man in front of her would shut up about Iwa already – who cared what Iwa did in Ame, that far away from Konoha. And wasn't it good Kumo was quiet. Paranoid old loons, the lot of them. The Senju had that in spades, and not enough resourceful young people to actually build the clan.

Heavens, she was starting to sound like Tōka.

Finally they'd run out of sympathisers. Tsunade was startled out of her stupor when Tōka shoved a cup under her nose: sake. Tsunade held her breath in disgust. "Uh, begging your pardon, Tōka-sama, I'm too young – "

"Drink."

Well, she was also too young to defy her mildly drunk clan head. Tsunade took the cup, absently recalling all the poisons that would go well with alcohol. All of them, she decided, no one had ever gotten smarter after imbibing alcohol. There it all went in one go, and only her reflex saved it from coming out the same way.

Tōka snorted. "He used to say it's as bitter as life is sweet. Ah, Hashirama. He was the greatest of us, the last and its best. He gave us a home and a peace, made the stiff-necked Uchiha bend. Hashirama promised the sun and gave us the moon… and look where we are now."

Her head felt warm, so Tsunade did. It was dark outside, though the hall was thoroughly lit. Tsunade could count all the white hair on Tōka's head, all the new lines she hadn't had yesterday. The deadness in her eyes, that was new, too. It was too easy to feel sorry, so Tsunade did. But the words felt clumsy on her tongue, and Tōka spoke first.

"I'd warned him. Strange woman, stranger wife. And I was right. Did you know, Tsunade, the clan has never suffered so many casualties as on your mother's birth? Your grandmother thought she could outwit a demon, and the clan paid for it, as we are still to this day. You will finish what your grandfather started, won't you. The Senju will end with you."

Tsunade gripped the cup tight lest she smashed it on Tōka's face. Within, a fire had uncoiled and reverberated as a cruel laughter. "You know what, I'm not sorry. Your son tried to kill me, his own cousin, at the first sign of trouble. He almost killed my friends. I – to hell with you, Tōka-sama, I'd kill you too if you ever threatened the clan."

Tōka's face was a swirl of nauseating smoke, and her voice little better. "But not yourself, I see. No matter. You'll prove it, won't you, princess?" She poured Tsunade another cup. "Finish that, then get out of my sight."

The house was dark and quiet by the time Tsunade stumbled into her room. She collapsed on her bed seconds the instant the funeral clothes were off. That night she dreamed of red skies and burning earth, of a cage emptied twice over, and at the same time surging as a flame unto the heavens. Only gossamer threads kept her tethered to her jail, and away from her hideous, wailing spawn, but nothing kept her from the minions, and eventually the god of shinobi himself. And all around her the village burned…

In the morning when Grandma shook her awake, and the only reason she still had her fingers was that she'd used her cane, now lying in pieces, Tsunade began to think Tōka had a point.

"Did you know the seal was weakened? When you had O-kaasan," she croaked after she had apologised profusely and Grandma had fixed the seal. Even a master like Grandma must have had her blindspots when dealing with something as singular as sealing the demon fox. She hadn't expected Grandma to answer anyway, as Grandma was wont to dissemble on subjects 'unsuitable for children', but the silence was enough. "So you then decided…"

"I underestimated the Kyūbi, and my hubris destroyed the clan – is that what Tōka-san told you? She would be right."

"But O-jiichan must have agreed to it, too," insisted Tsunade. At least, the Kyūbi judged them both guilty, and Grandpa's look of devastation warmed its black heart even as he sealed the fox once again.

"The Shodai Hokage was a powerful and honorable man who had spent his entire life protecting those under his care, often to his own detriment… but even he was only a man. He had wanted children, but had I not convinced him it was not impossible…" Grandma was silent for a while. "Your mother never forgave me, either."

"That's stupid. How did she think she existed long enough to complain?" scoffed Tsunade. Too late, Grandma had withdrawn so far into herself not a single chastisement came. She retreated into her room, and no amount of wheedling and rhetorics would convince her to come out and teach Tsunade fūinjutsu.

All right, then. Grandma wasn't the only fuuinjutsu master who had lived in the house. Grandma might have come into the world a fully-fledged master, but Tsunade's mother had started her shinobi career from the bottom, like a normal kid. A quick expedition into the thousand years of accumulated dust that was her mother's old room revealed a few promising-looking books. And for the second time in two days, promising was all they were. Just like Grandpa's book. It must be in the blood, Tsunade thought sourly, or a prank for the children. Either calligraphy practice or incredibly bad poetry, it was all scribbles to her. Frustrating scribbles that looked as though there was a pattern to the madness if she stared at them until the strokes blurred together. She only needed one thing, one word, sentence, whatever – she was fairly confident she could understand the whole thing once she had the key. In her more fanciful moments she had likened learning to a kaleidoscope. The disparate beads of knowledge she collected along the way, and once she had the appropriate tube to view them in, some kind of image was sure to emerge. Also like a kaleidoscope, the conclusion was sure to be too abstract to properly understand.

Her break came when the ever ubiquitous Silver Rat reared his head, literally, popping into the pane of her window. Kagami wanted to see her in an hour at the entrance to the Forest of Death. But when she got there it was Hōka greeting her, sheepish and alone and definitely not the Hokage. "Kagami-sama would like to apologise," said Hōka, "but he cannot leave his office today."

Since he had at least remembered to send in a replacement, Tsunade swallowed her disappointment. "Yeah, okay, so it's you and a bunch of ANBU, that's cool. Into the Forest we go?"

"Oh, no. We're staying here. It just might be more prudent to stay away from the village proper."

Tsunade looked around for the ANBU. As befitting their reputation, the only reason she knew they were there was logic.

Hōka went on, "Kagami-sama said to start with basic chakra control exercises. We'll see how far you can go before I have to intervene." Tsunade looked back to three tomoe spinning on red eyes. She quickly looked away; she found it hard to trust the Sharingan when the Uchiha used them liberally except on their own.

The Academy didn't delve straight into chakra. There were a few good months spent trying to instill a modicum of discipline into the six year olds. When they could be prevailed upon to sit still for more than a few seconds, the meditation lessons began – finding the inner self, or whatever, she'd never had them. For as long as she could remember, she could already mould chakra. To her it was a lot like singing in its thoughtlessness, and the rest was fine-tuning. She had no idea how to call on her own without the Kyūbi's as well. It was there, claws and fangs pressed against Grandma's seal as though it could sense her anxiety.
She called up enough chakra to fill her pinky, and the world was drenched in red, and sulphur jostled for every space in her nostrils. She found the ANBU: one in each cardinal direction, all of them buzzing like human-shaped clusters of mosquitoes. She felt herself growling, teeth bared and muscles tensed for a pounce; she knew the feeling was mutual.

Hōka still hadn't made her move. She was the eye of the storm, a lifeless doll. It would be so easy to claw her detestable eyes out…

The next thing Tsunade knew she was lying prone, three dots spinning in her eyes and more in her head. "Did I…" she gasped.

The worry on Hōka's face became clearer. No Sharingan at least. "You went for my face. I know it's not pretty, but it's the only one I have, sorry."

"I don't remember that," Tsunade said after a long moment of frantically searching her memories. With Hōka's help she sat up. A shorter moment of equally frantic searching of the surroundings confirmed the absence of bloody craters or ANBU bodies. Here be progress.

Hōka was watching her closely. "Do you also not remember killing Kabema-kun?"

"I remember his sword in my chest, yes," said Tsunade, petulant. "…but not anything else until after Kagami-sama hit me with genjutsu." Tsunade rolled to her feet, and then up. Her body ached as though she'd crashed through a tree, but Hōka had subdued her with genjutsu, so it had to have been the Kyūbi. Pain and vengeful Sharingan in exchange for a short burst of murderous madness wasn't a fair trade.

Hōka was saying, "Perhaps if you try with less chakra – "

"No, it's gotta be the Sharingan, the Kyūbi hates it. Can you try leaving it off for a bit? Maybe if neither of us weren't provoked I'd have more control."

She did, and the next time Tsunade woke up to grassblades in her nose and a laughter like needles scratching on the bones of her ears. "Shut up," mumbled Tsunade, and flipped to her feet.

Hōka was sporting an angry, blackening gash on her right arm. The Sharingan blared as she clumsily moved through the set of hand seals for Shōsen no jutsu. The burgundy glow of her chakra fizzled the moment it made contact with the wound.

Tsunade clucked her tongue. "The seals are only half of it," she began, fingers already in the rat position before her brain caught up. Even if she could work the technique without the Kyūbi taking over, she would only pour more poison into Hōka.

One of the ANBU stepped forward then, unsurprisingly it was Silver Rat. He brought up his hands, coated with medical chakra, and at Hōka's nod he set to heal. It wasn't a bad attempt at all, he knew to extract the poisonous chakra first before healing the more superficial wounds. He was so good, in fact, that Tsunade found it suspicious she'd never seen a man matching his general profile in the hospital. Hōka thanked him, and just like that he disappeared again, with only a whiff of sulphur as proof of his presence.

"Well," Hōka said, testing her arm. Not all the black spots had disappeared, and her motions were stiff. "that was enlightening. Medic-nin always makes it look so easy, even under the scrutiny of the Sharingan. What's wrong?"

Tsunade schooled her face. "Nothing." One day, she thought, one day she would invent medical ninjutsu even idiots could use. But first she must regain her sanity. "Uh, what happened this time?"

"Besides you laughing at me, taunting me, and baiting the ANBU – did you know that Kagami-sama forbade them from interfering unless I'm in mortal danger?" That would explain the unprecedented level of sulphur in the air. "The red chakra seemed to make you much faster and stronger than the average jounin."

Tsunade bit her lip. "If you don't want to do this anymore…"

Hōka shook her head and smiled. "Oh, no, you just caught me off-guard. And there's something to be said about the Uchiha and our over-reliance on the Sharingan. You'd know, Senju." She grimaced. "Frankly, I'm more concerned by the loss of consciousness… that's the Kyūbi taking over, isn't it."

"Yeah, about that. Can you do your ocular chicanery now, while I'm still me?"

"Ocular – Tsunade, it's called suggestion. The Kyūbi is so vulnerable to the Sharingan that is all it takes. And I have never heard of doujutsu effecting things invisible to it, but… yes, why not."

Red eyes flashed, and Tsunade made herself stare at the spinning tomoe. Suggestion, hypnosis. She felt calm, the Kyūbi quiet. Then she drew her chakra, and the Kyūbi followed. Sarutobi's seal was a suggestion too, a sponge yoke tethered by steel chains. The burden was on her shoulders, and when she tugged the demon fox tugged back, plunging her into a sea red and vast. The abyss stared back at her balefully; above in the red sky a crow demon glared over its long nose. She began paddling. The sea was tame, and after a while her head broke its surface and breathed in rancid air. Sulphur and cooked meat on her tongue, and a hive of termites under her skin. No wonder the Kyūbi flattened every civilisation it came across.

Hōka's voice came as though through red cotton candy. "… awfully quiet. Blink twice if you want to be knocked out, thrice if – "

"Hey Uchiha, don't blink," was all the warning she gave before Tsunade rushed, chakra leaping to her knuckles readily. How did she ever have trouble with it? She was faster than she'd ever been, and she didn't even have to sacrifice her awareness. The ANBU buzzing angrily in place, bound by their orders; Hōka's surprise and delicious panic. The plan had been to strike the ground, but why not test her newfound reflexes – better than the average jounin, i.e. Hōka, wasn't she. And would it be so bad if the world lost a couple of Sharingan today… and if they disintegrated this sack of rotting flesh, it would be painful, but she would be free at last…

Lightning slashed across her vision, cleaving her head into two. Then nothing, as though she no longer had a body. But slowly a few things: cold metal pressed against the nape of her neck, the three ringed blades scrambling her thoughts like a blender. A tengu's frigid, shrill voice. "… masquerading. Had your fun yet, demon?"

Panic seized Tsunade – who the hell had she killed this time? She had retained full control! Her thoughts had been hers. It had been her idea to tease Hōka, to blow off her frustration. The stuff sparring accidents were made of, as Kabema's ashes could attest to. Despair set in as she realised there was no slip; there was nothing to control. What was the point? The more she tried the easier she became the demon instead. Tsunade's very being was intertwined with the Kyūbi.

Somehow she managed to speak through the thick sheet of burnt jasmine suffocating her. "Then kill me! Kill me, and the demon dies with me."

"Oh, no, I'll not be the fool who unleashed the Kyūbi on Konoha. Besides, I actually like the little princess when she's not trying to gouge out my eyes, and I shouldn't dare to heap more sorrows unto Mito-sama."

Despite herself, Tsunade scoffed. "You're such an embarrassment to your clan."

The red sea receded, she could breathe easier, but Tsunade didn't have the strength to move. She lied there basking in the simple smell of grass. The fox was laughing at her, but who cared what the fox did from behind the Sharingan's protection. Coward.

Still face down, Tsunade mumbled, "Did I kill anyone?"

"Just an ant nest. Those poor ants never stood a chance," Hōka said soothingly. She couldn't seem to decide on what to do with her hand and let it hover over Tsunade's head. "You ought to see a medic."

"'mfine, can't go into the hospital anyway, too poisonous. Director said so." To prove her point, Tsunade tried to get up. She got as far as flipping to her back and flinching at the sunlight in her eye. Chancing peeks got her a view of not one but three craters. No blood, though, and no broken bodies. More progress.

"No hospital, got it, but – excuse me," Hōka said with a rising tone as a larger set of fingers wrapped around Tsunade's wrist, seeking pulse, followed by the gentle invasion of sulphur-tinged medical chakra. Silver Rat, here to assassinate her, medic-nin style. And get poisoned by the Kyūbi's chakra. But the foreign chakra only probed and prodded, and then returned to the ANBU, who didn't seem affected by the brief contact.

Silver Rat grunted something to Hōka, then disappeared. "Well, ANBU-san couldn't find anything wrong. That said, I still don't think we should continue."

"No," echoed Tsunade. She sat up, then wobbled to her feet.

Grinning, Hōka offered her arm. "We'll try something else tomorrow. Come on, princess, let's take you home. I'd like to speak to Mito-sama if she's available."