。。。

5, [Mother]

20 years ago

If Shikae was the Sun, then Mamushi would be her shadow; moving in synchrony, never falling behind, Mito thought.

"Baka Mito-chan! I'm the Nara, so I should be the shadow!"

"Be quiet!" Jostled out of her half-asleep state, Mito slapped a hand across her loud teammate's mouth. Shikae struggled, fake tears streaming down her face.

"Mito-chan is so violent, mou! I can't believe Hashirama-kun married her!" The Nara spouted indignantly, voice muffled.

"Mito, you were talking in your sleep again. And Shikae, stop being dumb." The third member of Tactics & Intelligence's alpha team said between laughs. True to her namesake, Mamushi's eyes were a startling shade of green that bordered on yellow. They darkened to a rich amber color when she was amused.

At Mamushi's taunt, Shikae wrenched herself out of Mito's grasp, turning back to the ongoing game of Go between her and Mamushi. She stuck her tongue out at the other dark-haired woman. "If I'm dumb, then how am I beating you?"

Mamushi leaned back, her segmented black armor clinking as she relaxed on the gigantic table. It was 2:00a.m., and the trio had long given up on productive work. As Shikae and Mamushi challenged each other's massive intellects in a game of Go, Mito had drifted slowly off to sleep.

"Because I'm letting you." Mamushi replied nonchalantly, brushing back a strand of void-black hair.

Mito glanced at their game and almost smiled despite her exhaustion and annoyance. Even in an game, Shikae and Mamushi behaved like light and shadow. Mamushi was just a tiny bit behind Shikae, but she was close enough that Shikae would never be able to pull ahead and break free.

Shikae's competitive streak overtook her child complex momentarily, and her round eyes narrowed as she moved a black piece.

Mamushi responded in a matter of seconds, a smirk going across her plain features as she moved a white piece, successfully cutting off Shikae's advance.

It was another late night in the cramped headquarters. All the other shinobi had gone home, exhausted by the workload and scarred by the war. Even though their unit was the brain behind all of Konohagakure's military operations, they were still given the smallest spaces. Mito was going to ask Hashirama to build them something better when he returned from his latest scouting mission.

For now, she was content to watch Shikae play against her shadow, not knowing that one day, they will tear away from each other.

"Senju Mamushi," I recited slowly, tracing the kanji for the deadly Japanese viper on the softness of my thin blanket.

Sen-ju Ma-mu-shi. My mother's name. I smiled into my pillow. How ironic- a viper, mother of a dragon. I pictured her in my head- heavy-hipped, clad in black Senju body armor, her features plain except her eyes, a shade of light green that bordered on yellow. It was surreal, knowing that the woman who'd birthed me- an impossible figure- into this world was real. She- Senju Mamushi- had a name, had an identity, had a history.

All night long, the only thing I could think of was her. My mother, a member of Konoha's legendary Shadow Trio, along with Uzumaki Mito and Nara Shikae. Without their combined brainpower, Konohagakure would've perished in the First Shinobi War.

What amazing women. Just like my first mother. The gentle woman had sacrificed her dreams and ambitions to raise me, her pathetic asthmatic daughter. My chest tightened. Later. I'll remember later.

Mito had dismissed me after a few tales of my mother's exploits, and telling me to stay silent about Miko and Mamushi until she finished sorting everything out. I asked where Mamushi was, if I could meet her, or at least see a picture of her- all in due time, she'd said.

I rolled around on my tiny bed. I was too awake, too giddy to sleep. I'm a Senju. A fucking Senju! Never mind being stuffed into Orochimaru's body, I was a member of one of the legendary shinobi clans. The clan of a thousand skills was bound had to have a member who specialized in Senjutsu, and who gave birth to a baby so saturated in sage chakra it was in constant sage mode its entire life. Namely me.

The very thought of Orochima- my body's uniqueness sent tingles of excitement down my spine. I was incapable of summoning my chakra not due to incompetency, but because mine was a special, ultra rare form that defied all conventional methods. Another thought followed. If Senju Mamushi was indeed my mother, then that meant I was a Senju...and distantly related to Tsunade. I burst out laughing. It was absurd to think that Orochi- I- was related to the blonde princess.

Floating in a infinite sea of thoughts, I eventually drifted to sleep, dreaming once more of Mamushi's garden and her strange lullabies.

10 years ago

Senju Mamushi was in love.

Shikae was the first to notice the subtle changes- how Mamushi smiled more- how she started wearing lipstick- how she looked on with equal amounts of admiration and jealousy whenever Hashirama dropped into the headquarters to spoil Mito with kisses and candy and flowers like he was still courting her, even though their three children were already well into their teenage years.

Today was one of those days the Shodai Hokage decided to pop into the T&I bureau for lunch, and share a bento with his darling Mito. As Hashirama laughed at his own jokes and Mito smiled more at his attitude than his humor, Mamushi sat in the corner, picking at her mound of salad greens with a pair of delicate chopsticks while sneaking glances at Konoha's Golden Couple. Oh, and she was on a diet, too. Not great for a ninja, but it did wonders for bringing out curves.

Shikae slapped on a huge smile and popped off her desk, making her way across the massive room towards Mamushi.

"Oh, hello, Shikae-chan." Mamushi grinned lopsidedly after an uncharacteristic delay. "You look nice today."

Shikae almost scoffed, but that would've been out of character. "It's just the deer oil shampoo, mou. Mito-chan and Hashi-kun are really cute together, aren't they?"

"Was I staring?" Mamushi mumbled. "But yes, it's amazing how they're still so close after so many years. If I-" Mamushi trailed off.

Shikae smiled at her incoherency. The normally aloof and mischievous Mamushi was reduced to a blubbering maiden. It's almost as if this was her first crush. After a few awkward bites of salad on Mamushi's part, Shikae decided to go for the kill.

"So, who do you think of when you see Mito-chan and Hashi-kun? Who do you want to marry, Mushi-chan?" Shikae made sure to lilt her voice so she would sound friendly, but not overly inquisitive.

Mamushi startled, but her shinobi instincts minimized the reaction to a subtle shift in her posture. "No one in particular. Love like that just makes you smile a little on the inside, you know?" Damn. She's stepping back into beat already. To anyone else, Mamushi's reaction would've been natural, and the topic would've been dropped. But Shikae was a master of presentation herself, and she knew Mamushi's crush was more complicated than she thought if she was trying to hide it already. "Anyways, Shikae-chan, try some of this pickled plum, it's deli-"

"No thanks, I'm having venison steak. Can't let cute deer be slaughtered for nothing, mou!" With that, Shikae whipped out her own lunchbox, not knowing that Mamushi's little crush would spiral out of control until even she, the master of manipulation, couldn't control it anymore.

"Oi, Shikaro. You're actually awake?"

The Nara heiress in question turned to Yamanaka Inoshi, who was stealing pastries from an oblivious Akimichi Chousei. The trio lounged around in the empty 103E classroom, sharing lunches. The current Ino-Shika-Cho generation, despite being Elites in the Shinobi Academy, were rather unimpressive. Inoshi was a stern-faced, tight-lipped boy with sleek blond hair that laid perfectly flat on his head. He'd been gelling it since last year, much to the dismay of his mother and aunt. Chousei was a pretty, plump girl, but her heavily-lidded brownish-gold eyes only brightened at the sight of her best friends or delicious food.

And Shikaro? She was the polar opposite of her mother- her spiky, untamed hair stretched down her back, and despite being the tender age of nine, she already had the disposition of a cranky old woman.

"Yeah. Lots of things are happening today." Shikaro yawned. Chousei took the opportunity to stuff a red-bean filled pastry in her mouth.

"You look skinny, Shika-chan," Chousei batted her eyelashes at Shikaro's passionless glare. "I'm only tryna to help!"

Shikaro frowned, but ate the pastry anyways.

"Ugh, I can't believe that stupid mutt got moved up to the Intermediate class," Inoshi bursted out, expressing his ire with a sharp slap to the table.

Chousei patted Inoshi on the arm, stuffing her face with more sweets.

"Watch your mouth, pig," Shikaro warned. "Katomaru beat you fair and square. It was your fault for underestimating your cousin."

"If it weren't for that Ryūto kid, I would've beaten him! Watching him get beat up by Sakumo really got him going. It really pisses me off to see them with Jiraiya. Look at them! They look so happy together!" Inoshi ranted, pointing to the three distinctive figures sitting atop the roof outside.

"Maybe because they're friends, Inoshi-kun." Chousei offered gently, inhaling several chocolates. "Just like the three of us."

"They're troublesome." Shikaro said mysteriously. "Haha-eu* asked me to keep an eye on them."

Her two friends immediately sobered at the mention of Shikae. "Nara-sama told you to keep tabs on them?" Chousei asked, chomping down on a riceball.

"Yeah. She says they'll be up to something soon." Shikaro added ominously.

The three friends exchanged a glance.

"Nara-sama is never wrong," Inoshi said slowly.

"Exactly," Shikaro laid back, staring at the ceiling. "And she's onto something this time. Something big."

Yesterday

A few seconds after Mito's command, the shadow of a large bookshelf in Uzumaki Miko's living room quivered and the distinctive shape of Nara Shikae bloomed from its darkness. Her shadow then broke free, spawned a copy of itself, and coalesced into flesh and blood.

One of the two remaining T&I members on site gawked at her appearance. "Na-Nara-sama?"

Rolling her head with satisfied cracks, Shikae grinned at the speechless newbie. "Good afternoon, mou."

The other T&I member took pity on their newest addition and whispered something in his ear as Shikae began. Her first destination was the fruit of her squad's labor- a cornucopia of evidence, reports, and objects sealed carefully in preservation scrolls that laid neatly on Miko's shabby coffee table. Shikae paused at the offering before diving in. She worked methodically, analyzing every word, every scratch, every detail. After she was through, she returned everything to its previous state and laid down, closed her eyes, and appeared to doze off.

The newbie turned to his senior, who shrugged. "She's thinking. Wait a little."

Sure enough, after almost exactly 6 minutes, Shikae sat up in a rustle of curls and lightweight fabric, stretching lazily. Then, she stood and strutted over to the duo.

"You!" She pointed to the newbie, who nearly jumped. "How would you feel if your chakra was sealed away by your own sister and all of your colleagues shunned you!"

"Uh, horrible, I suppose," the surprised nin said. "Betrayed. Not just by my sister and the village, but also all of the shinobi."

"Exactly," Shikae nodded in approval. "And if you had a outspoken personality, what would you do?"

"Get revenge." The other ninja spoke up.

"And what's the best way to do that?" Shikae prompted.

"Sabotage?" The newbie offered tentatively.

"No, that's too difficult, especially without chakra. It's also very childish." His senpai added.

"Then...what?"

Silence engulfed the room as Shikae waited.

"I'd join the Resistance," The older of the two said slowly, realization dawning upon him. "The Resistance against the Hokage, against the Shinobi, against the village. I'd team up with a group who already hate the ninjas."

Shikae smiled. "And that is exactly what Uzumaki Miko did."

After an entire morning of strength and endurance training with a class of whiny eight-year-olds, much to the dismay of my battered body, lunchtime reunited me with a jubilant Kato, who'd been promoted class 103I after beating Inoshi. His victory left him practically glowing. We were chatting away happily on the sunny roof when Jiraiya appeared once more.

"Ryūto, I need to talk to you. It's about Sakumo."

At the mention of the Hatake, my mood soured. Nonetheless, I swallowed my grilled tofu and motioned for Jiraiya to sit. "Sure, Jiraiya-san."

"I tried to tell you on your first day, but we got interrupted." Jiraiya plopped down and began, wasting no time. "Remember your argument from three days ago?" I nodded. "There's a reason why Sakumo hates Miko so much."

"Yeah?"

"His mother was on Miko's platoon during the war, the same one that was destroyed by the four jinchuuriki. Miko was the only survivor."

"Oh," I blinked. "Oh."

"It's okay, you didn't know." Jiraiya assured me. "But you understand now, don't you?"

"Yeah." My image of Miko was deteriorating further and further by the minute. "He blames Miko for his mother's death, doesn't he?"

"How can he not?" Jiraiya said darkly.

"It's understandable," Kato added sagely. "He's young. It would only make sense for him to shift his blame on the most obvious target."

"You're eight, Inuzuka." Jiraiya quipped drily.

"Age does not correlate with emotional maturity for a child like me," Kato said monotonously. I suppressed a shudder.

"Is Sakumo an orphan, then?" I asked, ignoring the dark turn the conversation had taken.

"No, but he might as well be. His father became a recluse after his mother's death. I heard he became a monk." Jiraiya said.

Kato looked between the two of us. "What about you, Ryū-chan? You're an orphan, right? What happened to your parents?"

"By the sage, Inuzuka! You don't just ask someone that in a normal conversation!" Jiraiya hissed. I held up my hand to quell his annoyance, but Kato beat me to it.

"Ryū-chan seems to be mature enough to discuss this, so I took the opportunity to ask him. I'm especially interested because kaa-san mentioned that she knew Ryū-chan's parents."

Jiraiya and Kato glared at each other for one tense moment. Then, they turned to me, waiting for my input.

"It's okay, Jiraiya. I don't mind." Looking between my new friends, I shook away visions of mangled corpses of that fateful day, took a deep breath, and began reluctantly. "My parents were part of the Resistance."

5 years ago

The Battle of the Valley of the End lasted for 27 hours, 21 minutes, and 19 seconds, but its devastating legacy will haunt the world for decades.

For over a day the terrifying symphony of jutsus, screams, shouts, and chakra rang on and on as Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara fought to justify their village, their shattered dreams, their twisted ideals. Half way through the battle, when Uzumaki Mito finally managed to subdue the unholy beast that was the nine-tailed fox, the land had been twisted and deformed beyond recognition. By the time the combatants laid on the scarred earth by death's doorstep, surrounded by a shroud on dust that buzzed with chakra residue, the famous valley was already formed. A deep divide separated two chunks of land, and a choppy, newborn river gushed down the chasm in a deafening roar.

This was the scene that Nara Shikae saw when she finally snapped out of her awe-induced trance, with one shaking, exhausted, and crying Uzumaki Miko cradled in her arms. Shikae's knees buckled at her sudden shift in perception, and her friend nearly fell into the thundering waters below.

"H-hashirama! Hashirama..." The redhead gasped out weakly between her violent, wheezing sobs. Her body hummed with chakra, and her red hair was undone, hanging from her head like a sheet of dirty fire.

"Shh, Mito-chan. Shh. Hashi-kun should be fine," Shikae rasped. She felt wet drops roll down her face, falling onto Mito's dirt-streaked skin. "You were incredible. Rest now, Mito-chan."

For whatever reason, Shikae's body had naturally gravitated to Mito when her backup team arrived, a day too late. Shikae didn't let herself wonder why, so she sat down and held Mito close, stroking her hair as she finally fell into a restless, hiccupy sleep.

A lengthy drop below the women, veiled by the spray of the waterfall, laid one unconscious Hashirama. His filthy, water-soaked hand kept a tight grip on a half-conscious, but nearly delirious Madara's equally filthy, wet hair. They laid side-by-side after a dramatic finale, a tumble down the very waterfall they'd created.

The sound of sandals crunching the watery debris was nearly drowned out by the waterfall, but the black armor and the deep yellow eyes made the new arrival unmistakable. She approached the men, a knife in one hand and chakra sheathing the other.

Later, Uchiha Madara was pronounced dead, and Senju Mamushi was declared missing. Hashirama cried when he woke up to the sight of the blood-soaked waters around him, calling for Madara, and Shikae swallowed her suspicions as Konohagakure mourned.

"It's been five years, my love." Mito felt a strange mix of serenity and apprehension as she stood atop of her late husband's stone head, speaking to him over the quiet din of the now peaceful waterfall. "But I'm ready."

It was here, in the battle that defined her husband's life, that Mito could sense traces of her husband. Not the grave in Konoha where his flesh body was laid to rest, but the place where he'd buried his dreams and soul.

"When you died, I vowed to keep the Will of Fire burning. I promised, but I was too weak to face life without you." Mito continued, ignoring the rumble deep in the pit of her stomach. Go back to sleep, fox. "But now the past has returned to haunt me, and it's time I confront it once and far all. You were right about Miko- she was hiding something. And Mamushi- she's still out there. Her daughter is here, in Konoha. And of course, your brother." As she finished, she looked towards the statue of the intimidating man facing her husband, where she sensed telltale hints of Uchiha Madara's chakra.

Hundreds of kilometers north of the lonely valley, a woman with eyes the color of rich amber inhaled and exhaled slowly, deep in meditation. In her state of deep concentration, she managed to pick up the minute shift in chakra, hundreds of kilometers south of the barren land she took refuge in.

"Mito, huh." Her mellifluous voice hummed. "Better be careful, Ryūko-chan."

*reverent term for mother

Dude. I feel like I'm adding too many OC's- well, I mean Kato isn't really an OC, but Shikae and Mamushi are important to the story. So is Miko. Also, was this too confusing?