Chaos herself's note:

Hey there!

A new month - a new chapter. :)

I hope you like what you're about to read. Enjoy and have fun!

Chaos

...

Chapter 5: The Growth

The day was bright and the labyrinthine roads of the village were growing like a tumour; craftspeople were crowding the place and completing Hashirama-sama's work at their own pace while Tobirama was flickering about bellowing directives according to his brother's blueprints in his hands. Sometimes the Uchiha would try to meddle like the cancer cell that he was but Tobirama was apparently having none of it, Touka observed with wicked delight.

Currently the Kunoichi was squatting perched on the cliff where she had an excellent view over the whole malignant melanoma, that some people already began to call 'home'. Touka, obviously, didn't belong to that group; and she more or less secretly had a bunch of other names for it.

Lately Tobirama and Madara bickered a lot, she perceived, but it never exceeded the chokingly narrow limits of verbal war. Maybe it was time Hashirama-sama and his wife returned from their belated 'honeymoon' or whatever... Spring's young buds had grown and the sky of leaves above the village was ablaze in fiery oranges and reds and the wilting leaves were gradually scattering like fallen embers and drops of blood; it's been months since Touka had last seen her clan chief and they still hadn't heard from them yet.

She was not worried that the pair might have been killed by their enemies, though; they would have known! Firstly, Tobirama would have sensed if his brother's Chakra signature had been snuffed out like a candle and secondly, Hashirama Senju was well reknown so word would certainly have got out as soon as a Shinobi of his calibre bit the dust.

It briefly crossed her mind that Hashirama-sama could have herded up all the suspicious people, possible and imminent threats and obvious enemies he could find just so he could dump the task of dealing with them once and for all like some leprosaic limbs on his brother plus reinforcements from the clan... Touka would have liked that quite a bit, especially the 'dealing with' part. However, remembering how much effort and 'heart' Hashirama-sama had poured into this swelling metastasis she came to the conclusion that her clan chief had not abandoned them for good.

Likely they were simply talking up more and more fiends to join the ulcer of evil if the trek of germ carriers was anything to go by. Tobirama had soon installed some kind of registration office at the village gates to keep track of the migrating individuals; the exact number and identities of our foes, Touka translated.

But despite the growth of tension that came with the increase of people crammed into a small area like a village the clans and their entourage behaved almost tamely.

Maybe they still remembered the incident in late summer when the dead body of some no-name hired sword was found artfully exposed on a piazza with a blade protruding from his chest and a neat informative note with the single word 'traitor' attached to it for everyone to see. It was obvious by the state of the mutilated and appropriately treated corpse that the chest wound was not the cause of death since the ugly head was sitting right on top of it, equally pierced by the same sword like a titbit on a skewer and the horrors of interrogation and retaliation painted deeply into his expression.

After that nobody had been dumb enough to try to assassinate Tobirama-dono in his sleep again...

The body had been left there in the open like a monument for three days until Tobirama had it removed before it started to seriously rot and stink; instead he had decided to start a graveyard on the very piazza. Who was responsible for the show remained a rumour and who was behind the hired sword unfortunately never came to light; but suddenly the clans were very busy proclaiming their well-disposed intentions and cleansing their hands of bloody deeds.

Inwardly Touka was both contented and displeased with the feat. Contented because she obviously drove her point home and Tobirama shot her a knowing glance once he discovered her message; displeased because the real traitor was still out there hiding in the open among the crowd.

But she was determined to hunt them down one by one and show them what you got for messing with the Senju!


The Chakra blade had become a real beauty and Touka was a bit proud of her handiwork; she carefully tended to the weapon whenever she got time to spare, which was not that seldom hence she had alienated herself quite successfully from the tumour cluster and gradually was creating the atmosphere of a silent hatemonger hermit around her quarters. It became familiar to her palm and was well used and charged with her Chakra by now, too.

Making use of the good weather and the fresh air Touka took a polishing cloth and a tightly sealed gourd bottle outside. She unsheathed the black blade and checked it briefly but thoroughly in the sunlight for remaining stains of blood, grease and grime; there weren't many of these because she was always careful to clean her weapons meticulously but a little patina of death was unavoidable.

She liked it when blades told a history, though.

The Kunoichi picked up the polishing cloth and ran it carefully along the length of steel and the Chakra within hummed contentedly with rekognition as she almost gently rubbed it to make ionisation work and chemically roughen the metal. Then she unstopped the gourd bottle and cautiously poured some of its content on both sides of the blade until it was fully coated and shimmering with moisture. Touka nodded to herself, put the bottle down and delicately dabbed with her traditional blade cleaning kit at the weapon so all excess liquid was soaked up.

Likely no one would notice the difference to any other sword until the edge sliced their skin and the point pierced their flesh...but then it would be way too late. She sheathed her special blade again in time to notice a figure approach her refuge swiftly.

It was a girl all dressed in a simple, plain Yukata and her hair was tamed in a tight topknot with unruly skeims sticking out here and there; she didn't seem to belong to the fawn's usual entourage, though, despite approximately belonging with the same agegroup. So she could be either from a minor family or a civillian. Touka lifted the gourd bottle and sealing again while she patiently watched her unbidden 'guest' hasten towards her lair and come to stand before her panting and bowing a more than respectful ninety degree at the waist.

"Senju-sama..." the flushed and sweaty girl rasped without taking her time to catch her breath; neither did she straighten from her deep bow or lift her eyes. "Please, I-...I know you don't like to be bothered but I didn't know... who else to turn to and-...Nara-san recommended you for your war experience and wisdom and discetion, Senju-sama. Please-... teach me about poisons," she gushed between inhalations of huge gulps of air.

Touka blinked, then offered her still unstopped bottle with an impassive expression. "You sure are in a hurry, brat. Aren't you thirsty from the run in the heat?" she chose not to answer this unusual and bold request right away and rather indulge her curiosity.

"Thank you, Senju-sama...so kind..." the girl breathed gratefully, grabbed the gourd from her hands and lifted it to her mouth. Then she suddenly froze, recoiled from the bottle and blanched. "Bitter almond?!" she whispered with eyes wide in horror.

"Cyanide from peach stones, among other less distinctively fragrant or seemingly vapid substances," Touka confirmed with a slight inclination of her head. "I see you already know a thing or two about poisons..."

The girl looked thoroughly shocked and frightened but her tiny mouth clenched in a firm line; there was still some somber determination left in her eyes, some hidden darkness... interesting. "Yes, Senju-sama."

"And from your choice of words I gather this isn't about finding a medic to come up with an antidote," Touka concluded from her observation; her gaze hardened. "What's your name, brat?"

The teenager braced up and finally lifted her eyes to meet Touka's. "Chiyo-...just Chiyo."

The seasoned Kunoichi turned around and walked towards the greenhouse behind her quarters. "Very well, Chiyo-kun. While we harvest a few ingredients for war preparation you may tell me all about the who and why you want to poison people in a village that claims to be so 'peaceful'," she calmly stated noting both the gloom in her small eyes and the blush on the teenager's cheeks when she followed.

While she silently listened to Chiyo's story and prepared for a longer series of experiments Touka briefly ruminated on what Hashirama-sama might think once he came back and learned that his prized community of frienemies was nothing but a congregation of backstabbing traitors, cowardly wannabe-masterminds, rapacious hirable swords, children intent on poison murder and a private army of fire-breathers...

Maybe he would finally be more susceptible to the fact that this ulcer of a village was utterly infested with the fiend and ripe for a clean amputation...or a thorough sweep by the white blood cells that were the Senju. Or both.

Touka needed to talk to Tobirama some more about it first so they might stand a chance against 'His Stubbornness' and convince him at last.

Her nimble fingers found the stems of oleander, venus hair, belladonna, corn poppy and peach blossoms on their own, mercilessly but delicately broke the flowers and efficiently pleached them into a small wreath of vine leaves fastened to the handle of a Kunai; she knew Tobirama would be quite alarmed by such a message and come find her shortly, the Kunoichi mused nefariously amusedly.