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Until today, I'd counted myself lucky because, in a world like this, there were a thousand terrible ways to die. But seeing a person's flesh being consumed by an eternal flame had to be somewhere at the top of that list. Itachi Uchiha's Amaterasu was soundless and looked more like dark splotches of nothingness vaguely shaped in the form of what could have been a human body than actual flames. Beneath the fetid smell of the woman's cooking corpse was a bitterness of scorched hair that clung to the back of my tongue, and the air itself felt greasy with it.
Killing was not new to me, but this? This was hands down the worst death I'd had a part in. I looked back, and behind me, saw Tsunade half-crouched and hyperventilating. Despite it all, I could feel the beginnings of guilt prickling at me—using her hemophobia was a last-ditch effort and not one I'd wanted to make if I could help it.
Despite the manner of her death, I didn't at all feel bad at killing Orochimaru's subordinate. Stopping her meant driving negotiations between the creepy bastard and Tsunade into the ground, at least from the hag's point of view. Though now that the Akatsuki had found me, all those worries about taking Orochimaru off the board and my butting heads with Tsunade seemed insignificant.
All the while, the flames before me swelled, yawning across and towards anything that would take them. The abyssal flames twitched out towards patches of grass, arced up a tree, and waved deceptively to the wind.
"Shit!" Jiraiya came half-hobbling up the dirt track, Shizune hovering vaguely in his vicinity. She rushed towards Tsunade without a second thought while Jiraiya walked over to me, his face stormy as he removed the massive scroll affixed to his back.
"Can you even manage to seal those?" I asked. "Whatever drugs the hag gave you were strong. I'm surprised you can walk so quickly; moulding chakra is another entirely."
"That's why I won't be doing it," he said, pulling out a scroll three sizes smaller than the massive one I'd grown used to seeing. "You will. Simply channel chakra through the ink starting there and the ninjutsu will do the rest."
After what I'd witnessed those flames do, I took two or so steps away from the woman's still-burning corpse before I did as Jiraiya asked. Watching the dark flames spiral their way towards me took at least a few months of my life.
"Can I keep this?" I asked once I'd rolled up the scroll.
Jiraiya paused. "...You know what? Given whose flames those are, yes. You can keep that. In the meantime, Shizune? Leave Tsunade to me. I need you ready to fight."
"Is it Orochimaru?" she asked, already arming herself.
"I wish it was. No, it's—"
"Well, if it isn't the esteemed old man again!" a completely different voice cut across Jiraiya's warning. I turned and muttered a silent curse towards Kisame Hoshigaki, who'd spoken.
He hefted his massive bandaged sword over his shoulder. Behind him was Itachi Uchiha, slightly pallid and sweating despite his poker face. Given the state of him and Guren having been thoroughly roasted, it seemed he'd had the fortune of running into Orochimaru first.
Not that it would guarantee the bastard's death, but at the very least he'd find it hard to do much for now. And besides, it was a small comfort in the face of the duo before me. As things stood now, Shizune and I were the only ones in fighting shape. Thanks to me, Tsunade was more or less catatonic and while Jiraiya was a lot better than her, I doubted he'd be able to pull off sage mode.
"Hey," I said, turning to him. "What are the odds you'll be able to use senjutsu if Shizune and I buy you enough time?"
"How do you know about… never mind. Five—no, three minutes. But, kid, those two are after you. Their win condition isn't beating you and Shizune. It's incapacitating you and running off." Jiraiya frowned as he looked past me. "The Uchiha brat isn't in good shape though. He's not even using his Sharingan. Though the shark is more of a threat given the sword he's wielding."
"Samehada, right? I read up on it in the Academy. What does it do?"
"...It absorbs chakra."
I managed a somewhat humourless smile given I'd already known that. "Then at least I've got some to spare. Three minutes, right? Between me and Shizune, we can buy you that much. And even if he's not using his Sharingan, Itachi Uchiha is still Itachi Uchiha."
Probably not close to as blind as he'd be in a few years, but factoring in how spent he was along with his subpar state thanks to some mystery illness there was a chance. But between us and that chance stood a blue-skinned, sharp-toothed mountain of a man who delighted in killing.
Itachi Uchiha's hands blurred through a set of familiar seals and I rushed to complete mine the moment I recognised his jutsu. A massive fireball rolled across the earth, and just in time, a massive wave surged out of my mouth to counter it. A thick cloud of steam hissed out between us, but I could only feel relief once I saw Jiraiya pick up Tsunade and dart away.
"Get out of the steam," I heard Shizune say, but before I could move, a silhouette carved through the mist. I barely managed to raise my trench knives before the force of Kisame's sword slammed into them. The sheer momentum of the strike dispersed the steam, and while I tried to hold my ground, the force of his swing shuddered down my arms and launched me away.
Instead of pursuing, Kisame Hoshigaki stood still, sword raised. "Hold on… those knives seem familiar. Wait a sec, you've got the same knives as that guy—Itachi, what was his name again?"
I barely had time to plant my feet before Itachi took advantage of Kisame's distraction. The moment I caught sight of his next set of seals, I knew what was coming. A hail of shuriken erupted from his hands, only to then multiply as he threw one salvo after the other.
I swiped my knives through the air, deflecting the first wave with quick, precise movements, but more kept coming. The moment I twisted to avoid the last barrage, Kisame was already closing in, Samehada howling through the air. I barely ducked in time, avoiding anything lethal even as the sword tore through the sleeve of my jacket, nicking blood.
Shizune's kunai came whistling past me, forcing Kisame back, but he laughed, swinging his sword onto his shoulder. "Oh yeah," he said. "Asuma Sarutobi. He was a fun time." The bandages around Samehada had torn further, revealing writhing scales as it pulsed in his grip. "Looks like Samehada likes your chakra, which makes sense. You are a monster, after all."
I grit my teeth. "If you wanted my chakra, you could've asked nicely."
"Now where's the fun in that?"
Without warning, a deep rumble filled the air as the ground beneath me cracked. I barely leapt away before the earth split apart, a massive geyser of water erupting where I'd just been standing. Kisame landed on the rising wave, grinning as he moulded the water into a swirling vortex.
A water dragon surged toward me with a deafening roar.
I crossed my fingers and three clones burst into existence, immediately scattering. The water dragon crashed through the first one, but as the clone dispersed and its chakra returned to me, the other two managed to stop it at the cost of themselves.
"Tch," Kisame muttered. "That's one annoying jutsu."
I took that as my cue. I channelled wind chakra into my knives and lunged forward, twisting through the mist with a slash aimed at Kisame's blind spot.
But just before my blades connected, Itachi's voice rang out. "Kisame."
Kisame spun, raising Samehada just in time to block my attack. The impact sent a shockwave through me and I felt the familiar pull of chakra being drained from me as my blades lost their lustre. Before I could disengage, he lashed out with a powerful kick, catching me in the ribs and sending me tumbling back.
A salvo of poisoned senbon stopped him from pursuing me as Shizune landed beside me, breathless. "This isn't going well."
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "Itachi Uchiha hasn't moved a single step since this battle began nor has he used his eyes. Jiraiya might be right. I don't think he's up for doing much. The bigger issue is Kisame Hoshigaki. While ninjutsu isn't useless against him, engaging in close-range combat is an even worse idea—not that I've got any other option. What's your strongest skill, Shizune?"
"Mainly medicine-related techniques, so poison and the like and I can't use my most potent ones for fear of catching you in the crossfire."
I made a seal and summoned three shadow clones. "That's fine. They're here for me, so they won't care much about you so long as you don't make yourself their problem. I dunno about you, but we'd be morons not to use that, so stick to backing me up and then I'll create an opportunity for you to do exactly that. That should buy Jiraiya enough time to get ready, right?"
"Naruto." Shizune grabbed my shoulder. "This plan of yours… it's reckless. If it goes well, and I mean if it does, you'll be at a disadvantage the entire time."
"...I know." My clones rushed forward, two for Kisame, one for Itachi. "But I have at least one way to tip the scales a little if things go horribly wrong. Just trust me for now."
After a few more hand seals from me, a thick mist settled over the battlefield. I heard Kisame's laugh before the mist vanished thanks to a gale that surged in from Itachi's direction. The battlefield dissolved into chaos. Each of my clones darted around Kisame at unpredictable angles, forcing him to divide his attention. The first to close the distance barely managed to raise a kunai before Samehada lashed out.
The feedback hit almost instantly then as its grotesque, scale-like protrusions extended mid-swing to carve through the clone's chest. I felt the clone's last moments and more like a tugging behind my eyes.
Gritting my teeth, I focused on the remaining two. The second clone feinted left, drawing Kisame's gaze along with his swing, while the third leapt in from behind, trench knives glowing with chakra as it aimed for the shark-like man's blind spot. But Kisame was faster. His massive sword twisted unnaturally, its bandages peeling back. Samehada literally roared to life, drinking deep from my clone's chakra the moment the blades connected. The third clone flickered out of existence, and I staggered back at the… diminishing returns.
Using the Shadow Clone Jutsu from then on, I decided, was not an option. The last clone—my last chance—lunged, pressing forward against the jagged scales of Kisame's monstrous weapon with a pair of trench knives.
The usual glow around the knives was absent.
Kisame grinned, sharp teeth flashing. "Persistent, aren't you?" he said, swinging Samehada in a vicious arc. The final clone barely managed to duck, landing in a crouch before launching itself forward again, stabbing at Kisame's ribs. The strike was blocked against Samehada once more, but that moment—just that fraction of a second—was all I needed.
Kisame's stance had shifted, his weight just a little too forward, his attention on the last strike rather than on me. I dispelled the clone voluntarily and the surprise made Kisame's reaction lag just long enough for me to pull out a scroll from my jacket. Chakra surged through the inked formula, igniting the containment script. The moment the seal released, the black, writhing flames of Amaterasu erupted forth and the abyssal fire streaked toward Kisame like a living thing.
Kisame reacted fast.
He swung Samehada in an arc meant to intercept the black flames, the bandages unravelling as the sword seemed to shift toward the oncoming fire as if hungry for it. The fire, however, did not vanish. Instead, the writhing black tongues clung to the blade's jagged scales, burning deep into its flesh. A wet, gurgling snarl came from the sword as its scales twitched and flexed, its body spasming under the unnatural torment. Kisame's grin vanished. His hands clenched tight around the hilt, but it was clear that even Samehada's monstrous ability had limits.
It needed to make contact to feed, and with Amaterasu's relentless hunger searing into its mass, the sword had nothing to devour—only suffering to endure.
Kisame snarled and attempted to wrench the blade free from the cursed fire, but the damage was already done. The flesh of Samehada blackened, its grotesque form twitching violently in Kisame's grasp. The air reeked of something foul—burning flesh, something deeper than just chakra loss.
Kisame clicked his tongue, glancing toward Itachi and, just as I had intended, Itachi moved.
Even from across the battlefield, I saw it—the moment his expression, already composed and weary, shifted to something even more strained. The three-tomoe Sharingan flashed in his eyes first, and then it spun, and the black pinwheels of his Mangekyou bled into place. He didn't make a sound as he willed the flames out of existence, but I caught the heave of his shoulders.
Then the flames were gone. Extinguished, as if they had never been there—but the damage remained.
Samehada sagged in Kisame's grip, its flesh raw, the scales seared away in patches. His artificial bone-white arm bore signs of the heat as well—parts of it were dripping to the ground in some kind of goop, though the damage was nowhere near as bad as his weapon's.
He turned his gaze toward me, and I saw something new in the depths of those beady, shark-like eyes.
Rage.
"...I'll admit it, kid." Kisame exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "That was clever." He tilted his head, baring his teeth. "But you know? I really didn't like that trick."
His grip on Samehada shifted. The sword quivered, the burned patches trembling as it tried to regenerate.
Kisame moved anyway.
I barely had time to brace when a blur of motion cut through the distance between us. Kisame's form bore down, his massive sword a looming shadow, its jagged form still steaming from the remnants of the fire.
And then, suddenly, Shizune was there.
"Get back!" she shouted. A cloud of mist burst forward from her mouth, sickly purple with medical chakra. Kisame twisted mid-stride, raising an arm to shield himself from the noxious vapour, but his momentum broke. He slid back, digging his heels into the earth, his glare snapping toward her.
Shizune stood firm between us, but her breathing was uneven despite her hands already moving through a series of practised seals. The sudden departure from our plan made it clear enough that this was a move made out of fear for me—and I wasn't even sure it was the right one.
Beyond us, Itachi sank onto a knee, coughing into his hand with his forehead gleaming. I swallowed the ache behind my eyes, steeling myself as chaos took rein over the battlefield once more. Kisame was angry, not at all playing with me anymore, which only made him all the more dangerous. With Itachi more or less out of the fight, Kisame couldn't use his widescale ninjutsu without messing him up… but that didn't mean this would be easier on Shizune and me.
All I could hope was that Jiraiya had gathered himself enough to be the decider here.
.
— — —
.
It wasn't calm that moved her, nor urgency—nor anything remotely within herself, deeper than the claustrophobic panic holding her tight within its grip.
No, Tsunade moved only in response to malevolence. A foul chakra that had a weight to it. Enough that her gaze snapped up for the briefest of moments to see Naruto draped in a howling red cloak.
Hair fashioned after Jiraiya's. Four jagged tails lashing in the wind. Shizune beside him.
"Tsunade!" Jiraiya's voice was loud in her ear.
When she swallowed, her throat felt as if it would split in two, but she managed to at the very least look up at him. The two elder frogs Tsunade hadn't seen in nearly a decade now perched on his shoulders, their brows scrunched in focus while Jiraiya stared balefully down at her. There seemed to be an infinite distance between herself and the battle—and at the same time, not.
The pungence of cooked flesh, the sight of blood, scorched scales and scattered weapons.
"Ma, Pa… how are things going?" Jiraya, with his back to her, asked. "...I'll be honest, I think I'm wasting your time. My chakra control is too shot for sage mode, but I ain't got any other option to fight those two off."
"Jiraiya-boy," said Pa. "I'm afraid you're right. It does not matter how much nature energy we amass for you if you cannot do anything with it, then it's simply useless. I am sorry."
"No, don't worry." As the frogs disappeared in a puff of smoke, Jiraiya groaned, turning on his heel. "Are you even watching, Tsunade? Or are you too lost in your own damn self-pity to see what's happening right in front of you?"
She had nothing to say to that. Or rather, she had too much to say, and none of it would matter. Not to Jiraiya or anyone who'd broken as they waded through the blood and the filth and the unbearable weight of loss as she had.
"Look at him! Look at that kid out there, fighting his heart out—fighting for you, whether you deserve it or not. You think your pain is so much greater than anyone else's that you get to just sit there while the people who still care about you put their lives on the line?"
Tsunade's fingers curled against the dirt.
"He's just a kid," Jiraiya's voice grew harder. "And, I'm sorry, but he's already had to deal with more loss than you ever did at his age. Unlike you, he doesn't sit around drinking himself into a stupor and throwing away what little he has left. He fights. He pushes forward and at least tries to make something out of the hell he was given."
Tsunade's breath came sharp and fast. "Don't talk to me like I don't know pain, Jiraiya. Don't—"
"I'll talk to you however the hell I want! You of all people need to hear this. Especially since you spat on everything the old man stood for. Do you even understand that? The man who took you in, who taught you, who fought for you—who never stopped believing in you? And when he died, all you had to offer was bitterness. Is that really how low you've sunk?"
Tsunade's stomach twisted, but she gritted her teeth. "...He was a fool. A sentimental fool who made mistake after mistake—"
Jiraiya's hand lashed out, gripping her wrist, but he didn't pull her up or even attempt to force her into standing. He just held her there, forcing her to look at him. "And you're any better? You talk about his mistakes, but what are you doing? Sitting here while a kid—Kushina's kid, for fuck's sake—throws himself into battle. While your own apprentice steps up to fight because you won't. Is that what Nawaki and Dan would have wanted? Is that what the old man would have wanted?"
"...Shut the fuck up, Jiraiya."
Jiraiya let go of her wrist and took a step back as if he couldn't stand to be close to her anymore. "No. You don't get to sit here and wallow while people who still care about are fighting for their lives. When they die—because you refused to help—are you going to blame the world? Get the hell up. Or don't bother calling yourself a Senju anymore."
The words landed like a punch to the gut. And for the first time in years, Tsunade felt something deep and jagged and raw stir beneath the weight of her self-imposed grief. Her breath came short and shallow. Jiraiya's words slashed through the wall she had built around herself to hide a wound that festered the longer she ignored it.
Nawaki's grin, broad and reckless. Dan's steady hands, still warm against hers if she closed her eyes. The people who had believed in her—who had fought for her, and in the end, died for dreams she could no longer bring herself to hold because of their deaths.
But Naruto? He was standing. Bleeding, but standing. Fighting with everything he had, just like she had—once. The weight of the Nine-Tails' chakra distorted the air around him, warping his outline into something raw and terrible, but there was no mistaking what was underneath.
A brat who should have given up long ago and who, by all rights, should have drowned in the same grief that had buried her. And yet he clawed his way forward like a fool who still thought the world was worth fighting for.
Tsunade closed her eyes and with a slow, deliberate motion, she planted her hands against the dirt and pushed herself to her feet. The earth swayed when she opened her eyes at the sight of her dried blood, nausea clawing at her stomach, but she gritted her teeth and took a step forward. And another. Each one felt like forcing her body through molasses, but momentum carried her to Jiraiya's side.
She wiped at her face, felt the grit of dirt and sweat against her palm, and let out a sharp breath. Jiraiya was watching her. Not with pity, but with something rougher, something closer to belief.
"...You really are an annoying bastard."
His lips twitched. "And you're a stubborn pain in the ass."
Tsunade turned her gaze back to the battlefield, to where Kisame Hoshigaki and Itachi Uchiha stood—one bloodied, the other unreadable as ever despite his skin's pallidness. Kisame, for all his bravado, was favouring his left side, his movements a fraction slower than before. His sword writhed even as he swung it, charred in places with its scales littering the ground. But against Naruto's relentless assault and Shizune darting in to take advantage of his injuries, he was slowly growing all the more enraged.
Tsunade could see the exhaustion written in every line of her student's stance, but she was still there.
A ghost of a smirk pulled at Tsunade's lips. Right. They weren't dead yet.
She rolled her shoulders, testing the sluggishness in her limbs. It would have to do. Her fingers flexed at her sides, chakra surging to life within her fists and coalescing into something bright and deadly.
Jiraiya cracked his knuckles. "You ready, princess?"
"Not really, but I suppose I've no choice, you lecher."
"Well, you said it… so is there any chance of a happy ending if we live this one out?"
Tsunade snorted.
"...I'll take that as a yes."
Against every instinct, reinforced by years of cowardice, she moved forward to fight for the boy who had the same look in his eyes that she once had.
The ground beneath her cracked as Tsunade rose to her feet. The weight in her chest remained, as did the ache in her hands. But the bitterness in her throat was drowned by something else—something sharper. Jiraiya's words had cut deep, and the truth burned.
She had wasted enough time.
The sound of the impact rang out across the battlefield like a thunderclap. Kisame barely had time to register her presence. The brief moment when they locked eyes allowed him to twist his body in such a way that her fist sank into his torso instead of his head. Still, Tsunade felt ribs groaning from the force of her fist. He hurtled back the way they had come, leaving Itachi Uchiha standing on guard, looking sickly.
Blood dripped from Kisame's mouth as he twisted midair, digging Samehada into the earth to slow his momentum. He landed in a crouch, his shark-like grin never faltering. "Oh? So the old slug princess finally decided to join us. Took long enough."
Jiraiya stepped forward, summoning oil in his palm, but Tsunade raised a hand to stop him. "You're injured. Watch my back and keep an eye on Naruto."
Jiraiya grunted. "He's not exactly in the mood to be watched."
Naruto was already lunging after the swordsman, red chakra flaring, tails whipping wildly. He moved with unnatural speed, claws aimed at Kisame's throat. Kisame met him with a swing of Samehada but the blade screeched as it met a Rasengan forming in Naruto's palm. The impact sent a howling gale through the clearing, even as Samehada absorbed the chakra out of it, forcing even Jiraiya to brace himself.
Shizune was at Tsunade's side in an instant, breathless but steady. "Lady Tsunade, you're—"
"I'm fine." Tsunade's voice was clipped as she assessed the battlefield. Naruto held his own, but that cloak—it pulsed, roiled, barely restrained—was dangerous.
They needed to end this before the Tailed Beast's chakra overrode Naruto's self-control.
Kisame skidded back, shaking out his arm. He swung Samehada onto his shoulder. "You've got bite. But you're burning yourself out too fast."
Naruto snarled, a fifth tail threatening to emerge—only for her grandfather's necklace to flash a brilliant green. Before the cloak could fade, Naruto pressed his hands together, and the burning crimson chakra howled, four tails solidifying at his back.
Tsunade hurtled forward. She slammed her fist into the ground, sending jagged earth shooting upward between them. The sudden wall of earth forced Naruto back even as his claws gouged deep lines into the stone and his wild, and feral eyes snapped to hers.
"Enough," she said, voice firm. "You're losing control."
Naruto's breath came in ragged gasps. He shook his head, growling. The red cloak flickered.
Kisame laughed. "Touching. But you should be more worried about yourself."
Water surged around him in an instant, rising into a vast, swirling sphere beneath his feet. A Water Prison, large enough to engulf them all. Tsunade barely had time to react before the water descended to swallow her whole.
At the edge of her consciousness, Jiraiya was already moving, forming hand seals. "Naruto, hold your breath—Shizune, get ready!"
Naruto snarled. Shizune flung senbon into the water as Kisame advanced, each needle laced with poison. Kisame laughed, dodging them with ease, but that was all the opening Jiraiya needed. He slammed his hands into the water's surface, releasing a shockwave of chakra that disrupted the prison's control.
The water crashed down.
Tsunade landed hard, gasping for air, but she didn't hesitate. Her fist met Kisame's jaw before he could fully recover, sending him sprawling. Shizune was on him next, her poisoned blades flashing, slicing into his shoulder. Kisame hissed, baring his teeth. Samehada twitched. The scales shifted, drinking in the chakra around it—and as the vast puddle around them disappeared into his blade, Kisame grinned.
Tsunade didn't miss how his wounds knit together.
Then she moved, faster than before, her fist colliding with Samehada so hard the blade itself wailed. Some of the chakra circulating her body to empower her blows as needed went straight into the blade, but the rest did its work. Kisame's eyes widened as the force rippled through his arms, his legs, and his spine.
Tsunade's kick snaked around the massive blade and shattered his knee.
Jiraiya's oil caught flame. Shizune's needles struck true. Naruto's Rasengan howled. Breathing hard, Kisame staggered back while they closed in.
Black flames screeched into existence between them, drawing a scorching line. As on, their eyes latched onto the source. Itachi Uchiha spluttered behind his hand, seemingly abandoning any thoughts of composure as blood dribbled between his fingers.
"It seems fate has favoured you this time, Naruto Uzumaki." Kisame leapt back, retreating into the shadows of the trees. "The fight was very much appreciated… but next time," he called, "I'll take my time carving you apart—all of you."
And just like that, they were gone.
The battlefield was silent save for the heavy breathing of those left standing.
Naruto's chakra flickered again before finally receding. Tsunade watched his shoulders tremble and his face twisting with something painfully familiar.
Regret. Frustration. The weight of surviving.
She stepped forward, steadying him with a firm grip on his shoulder. "...You did well, brat."
Naruto blinked up at her, confusion flickering in his exhausted gaze right as the battle's toll exacted itself on him. Tsunade exhaled as she propped him up and forced the shake in her left hand out with a clench of her fist.
.
— — —
.
I didn't remember falling. Just the heat clawing at my skin and the scream of the Rasengan shredding through the air. Everything else—gone. Like my body had finally had enough of carrying that thing around inside me.
I woke up to the feeling of something cold pressed against my forehead. Not ice, not water. Chakra.
Tsunade sat beside me, her hands glowing with pale light. She wasn't looking at me—just concentrating. Her mouth was set in a tight line, and her shoulders looked heavier than before.
"I'm awake," I croaked. My throat felt like I'd swallowed fire.
She flinched slightly but didn't stop the healing. "No, you're barely conscious. You can fall back asleep now. Your body has just about managed to cobble you back together after you were melting from the inside out."
I blinked up at the ceiling. It was cracked. Old. Not a hospital.
"...Where are we?"
"Tanzaku Quarters," she said. "You were unconscious for nearly a day. Jiraiya's also asleep because of… because of my poison and Shizune's resting."
I shifted to sit up, and pain lanced through my chest. Tsunade's hand moved to hold me down—firm, but not rough. "Don't move. Your pathways are a mess."
"Fucking Nine-Tails," I muttered. "I used too much."
"Too much?" she echoed. "You nearly tore yourself apart—would've gone berserk if not for my grandfather's necklace."
I winced. "Had to. The Akatsuki were after me. We were lucky too. If they hadn't run into Orochimaru first, they probably would have run off with me."
Tsunade looked away from me instantly and sighed. Her chakra dimmed as she leaned back, watching me like she didn't quite know what to do. "You shouldn't be able to move, let alone talk. And yet…"
"Is that a compliment?"
"It's an observation," she said flatly. "Don't get cocky considering why exactly that is." I smiled anyway. For a moment, she didn't say anything. Then, quietly, she added, "I should've stopped you. I should've stepped in sooner. I'm… sorry, kid."
I didn't respond right away. Part of me was still swimming in the aftershocks of the fight. Another part marvelled at how the strange feud between her and I seemingly died a very quick death. Not to mention my body felt hollow, like the tail end of a fever.
At the very least, I didn't hate her. Not anymore. But the downside was that I didn't know how to feel about her either.
"You came," I said finally. "That's what matters in the end."
Her mouth tightened. "Not soon enough—and I still betrayed you all, if only temporarily."
"...If your betrayal had led to a disaster, then this would be a different conversation." I shrugged. "It didn't, though. And I won't begrudge you for not caring about the Leaf as an institution… glass houses and all."
"That's one conversation. But there's something more important," she said, frowning. "You're wrecking your chakra network. Whatever upgraded Rasengan you were using—this… Wind-Release: Rasengan you've forced into existence—it's destroying your pathways every time you use it. Even Samehada didn't drain it all before the feedback hit."
"I know."
She blinked. "You… know?"
"Or rather, I knew it wasn't perfect." I nodded, slowly. "Every instance I've used it has led to some degree of backlash. Probably because this isn't a complete technique yet. But I've recently realised that the Nine-Tails' chakra lets me heal most of the damage. Even then, I try not to rely on it too much."
Tsunade glared at me. "That's not a solution."
"It's a bandage type of thing," I admitted. "But it's working for now."
"That jutsu in addition to the Nine-Tails chakra has your chakra network bearing a level of stress that isn't ideal. Judging by the state of you, it's not been all that long since you last used the Nine-Tails chakra, right? If you keep this up, you're going to cripple your chakra control. Permanently."
I tried for a smile, but she didn't smile back and instead let another long silence reign. Then, she said, "I'm going back."
"To the village? You'll take the hat?"
"Yes."
I didn't know what to say. I'd been trying to get her to go back this whole time—and now that she was, I didn't feel like cheering.
"Okay," I said. "Why?"
"I'm doing it…" Her gaze softened as she looked at me. "Because you were right."
"Right about what?"
"The things the people I care about fought and died for… they're worth protecting, even after they're gone." She let out a breath, slow and heavy. "I've been running for so long partly because it was easier to run from the grief than it was to face it."
"And have you?"
"I'm trying to." She gave a wry smile. "You know, Jiraiya knows how to push people around with his optimism. But you—you don't push. You pull… in a pitiful kind of way."
"I yelled a lot," I offered.
"You bled," she said with a snort, "for me, who you by all means don't really like—and yes, you fought for yourself too, but both things can be correct. In any case, watching you made me remember why I even decided to be a shinobi in the first place."
I looked down at my hand, still bandaged despite my wounds having healed. My chakra felt thin—drained in a way I'd never felt before. Like the core of me had been left out in the sun too long.
Tsunade probably saw the hesitation in my face. Maybe the fear, too. Having narrowly escaped a situation that'd likely typify my life from here on out, I wasn't exactly ecstatic.
"You're going to recover," she said. "I'll make sure of that in case your ridiculous healing hasn't done so already."
"Are we headed back afterwards?"
"In the morning," she said. "And when we do, you're going to train properly. No more winging it with unstable techniques. Why Jiraiya let you run around so long with it will be something I find out. But now that I'm here, there'll be no more gambling your life on half-finished jutsu. You're going to learn how to survive the right way."
I frowned. "And if I say no just to be stubborn and complete it on my own?"
She raised an eyebrow. "I'll throw you through a wall."
"...Yeah, that's fair," I muttered.
Not like I was being serious in the first place.
Her smirk faded. She stood up slowly, brushing the dust off her haori as she moved to the window and pulled the curtain back just a little. Afternoon light spilled in, catching the golden ends of her hair.
"It's not a title I ever wanted," she said. "But if I don't take it, someone worse will, according to you. And the village can't afford any more mistakes."
"So you'll be the Fifth?"
"I'll be the one who doesn't let it fall apart," she said. "That's as far as my ambitions go. As soon as there's someone better to pass it on to, I will."
I laid back, breathing through the ache in my chest. The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. Just tired.
"But that's enough about what I want. What do you want, Naruto?"
I didn't answer right away. Not because I didn't know, but because I wanted too many things. A meaningful life for me and the people I treasured. Hopefully not dying in a few years. Revenge against Obito.
A lot of things… but I got the sense that Tsunade wasn't asking about any of that.
"I want…" I paused, frowning up at the cracked ceiling. "I want to live a decent life—which is probably impossible by regular standards, and there's something I need to do before I can even attempt that."
She didn't move.
"But as far as shinobi standards go, if I can ride out the rest of what's shaping up to be a pretty grim future… I think I'd like to settle down. Maybe invent cool ninjutsu that aren't created with battle utility in mind. Maybe figure out how to fly. Stuff like that, I guess."
When I finally looked over at her, she was watching me again with her mouth pressed in that small, unreadable line I'd grown to hate. Though this time, without the companion saucer filled with sake, or the sour expression.
"That's a dangerous thing to want," she finally said.
"Yeah. I guess it is."
She stepped away from the window, nodding once.
"Then I'll make sure you live long enough to do exactly that."