Tsunade, age 15

I wouldn't dare confess my secret to another living soul… I would deny it with every fiber of my being if anyone was stupid enough to try me. No… actually, I'd beat the bricks off anyone who would dare question me about it.

My secret?

Jiraiya has always fascinated me.

I mean, everything about him is just so irritatingly ambivalent. Idiot and prodigy. Strong yet gentle. Charming and crass. I can admit that in the past, I was much more attracted to our teammate, Orochimaru. He was forever unbothered and cool, always slow to reveal any emotion or opinions outside anything ninjutsu-related. Our raven-haired teammate possessed surprisingly delicate features and a set of the most unique eyes I've ever seen, to this day. He was also the more gifted shinobi of the two, mastering every jutsu you could throw at him without a hitch. Orochimaru is aloof and calm, but Jiraiya is a complete and utter spaz.

Jiraiya tries way too hard sometimes, and in general, he's just too much. Too loud, too arrogant, too… perverted. However, Orochimaru has steadily grown disdainful and cold as the years have gone by. Now he's pretty creepy, also. But not so much in a pervy way, more like… kind of a vindictive way? I don't know. Jiraiya may be impetuous and even a little depraved, but shady and underhanded he is not. I didn't notice it right away, but I guess my attitude towards Jiraiya has gradually shifted from disgust to… slightly… more… welcoming. At least internally. He may push my buttons, but it's evident that he views me with unreasonably high regard. Like, seriously, I don't know what I've ever done to earn his respect aside from our duties as shinobi. Deep in my heart, I know his high opinion of me is much more than a status thing. Jiraiya cares for me deeply and never tries to cover it up.

Unlike me, who hides everything from everybody.

Bringing myself to admit these things out loud is absolutely unthinkable. My effort seems wasted too because I'm sure my family sees right through me. Grandpa Hashi was the first to flap his gums about it over dinner with Granny Mito and me one evening. Announcing embarrassingly that love was "written all over my face," the moment I saw Jiraiya hold Nawaki for the first time. I buried my face in my bowl of food and didn't look up until I was safe from their excited, smug laughter. My mind couldn't help but go back to that day when I invited him over to meet my baby brother.

At the time, we were doing this heavy-duty taijutsu training regimen every day. It was my idea in the first place, looking for any excuse to beat on Jiraiya. But I really just wanted more chances to be physically close to him without having to put myself out there. Under the guise of training, my mind is somehow able to accept our proximity without turning me into a desperate, blushing mess. What I didn't anticipate was for him to take our training so seriously, though. It was steadily becoming tougher to continue evading him and to avoid being grappled and wrestled to the ground. It was even tougher for me to pretend that I don't want him to pin me.

Jiraiya had also just hit a growth spurt seemingly out of nowhere, his shoulders filling out and face losing a sizeable amount of baby fat. He still only had roughly three inches of height over me, but he's undoubtedly bulked up in a significant way. His thick legs were stockier with muscle, those powerful thighs deadly whenever he catches you in their hold. And his arms... they just keep getting bigger and beefier.

Taijutsu was always my specialty, yet he keeps getting the better of me, and it's humiliating to endure and honestly, unacceptable. Sarutobi-sensei had even felt the need to mention it, making sure Jiraiya and Orochimaru were entirely out of earshot.

"My lady, are you not a ninja?" Lord Hokage's usual passive tone was now brittle, his sturdy body towering over me while the brim of his traditional hat cast a shadow over his eyes. I squared my shoulders for what was to come, my eyes meeting the deep-set glare of my displeased teacher. He would be angry if I decided to be a smart ass, so I instead said nothing in hopes to speed this thing along.

"Ever since your recent promotion to Jōnin, I've felt a certain complacency in you. I promoted you because you're the most skilled kunoichi of your generation. Maybe fourteen was too young to make you a Jōnin. You're clearly not all that serious about being a shinobi, despite being heir to the Senju."

Whoa.

"You actually think I'm the heir? Don't make me laugh." My fists were balled at my sides as I tried to reign in my anger. "I guess you don't know my family as well as you think you do." I gritted my teeth. "Things have really sucked at home for me lately. But that doesn't mean I've peaked early!"

Lord Hokage chewed on my words for a brief moment.

"Prove it. I know you are better than this, Tsunade. But clearly, you have some issues you need to work through."

"What issues?" His glare dropped as pity started to set in. He suddenly looked afraid to meet my eyes.

He let out a deep, frustrated breath. "The same issues as Jiraiya, it would seem."

My stomach churned with outrage, mouth dropping open to let out a choked whisper.

"Sensei, are you saying that I'm a... p-pervert?"

He grimaced, looking as though he regretted pulling me aside in the first place. "Yes, Tsunade. I am." I recoiled in disgust until my back hit the trunk of the little tree directly behind me. "You're lucky that I didn't say anything in front of the boys. I never hesitate to put either of them on blast in front of you…" He pulled his pipe out from his robes and lit up right in front of me. Really? Right now? He took a long drag and held it in for a moment before exhaling a pungent, stinking cloud of smoke around the two of us. "I don't know what's going on with you, Tsunade, but it's as if the two of you have switched bodies." Lord Third pulled the traditional Hokage head covering down even further, a sudden crude chuckle escaping his throat. "There was once a time when it was Jiraiya who played grabass during training and you who actually took things seriously."

"W-what? Fuck, it's not— "

The words wouldn't even come out. I was profoundly humbled, my head hung in shame. Sarutobi-sensei exhaled loudly before putting a hand on my shoulder. I wanted to shake it off, loathing the waves of sympathy he was no doubt directing at me. He cleared his throat, looking sheepish as a blush crept up his neck.

"Maybe train with another kunoichi also... I'm sure you'll feel a noticeable difference." My jaw dropped in shock at his misogynistic assumption. As if I couldn't also play grabass with another kunoichi.

"Just get yourself together, Tsunade." I crossed my arms in defiance, wanting nothing more than to kick his stupid hat off his stupid old head.

No wonder Jiraiya is so disgusting all the time. Look at our fucking sensei! Baka never even stood a chance…

"Uh-huh, whatever you say, sensei. Thanks for the talk." He sighed, removing his hand from my shoulder after giving it a small squeeze. "Enjoy the rest of your day, enabling a buncha shitty people, just like always."

"Ouch," he muttered quietly as he took another hit from his pipe. "Enable?" he repeated to himself as if he didn't know its meaning.

With that, Sarutobi-sensei exited the training field, leaving me with a bitter taste in my mouth. I stood there dumbfounded for a brief moment while I watched him retreat to the Hokage mansion, my face heating up the more I fumed petulantly. Am I really as shameless as Baka? The thought alone made me want to throw myself off the top of the Stone Faces. Have I always been this transparent?

"Sensei seriously pulled me aside just to cringe at me," I whispered to myself, completely traumatized. I'm used to mastering our lessons with limited difficulty, but lately, I've been so distracted it's starting to become apparent through my training. I mean… It's not like I've never had crushes before. Aside from my teammates, there are other people that I'm attracted to as well. But I don't have to see and work closely with any of them every single day!

Aarrghh! How do you expect me to fight someone who smells so good?!

I shook my head rapidly in a desperate attempt to shake those thoughts out of my skull. I sighed, feeling so fucking stupid. I heard a twig snap from above and saw Orochimaru perched comfortably in a thicket of branches. He laughed silently, but his body was shaking so hard with his laughs that he almost fell right out of the tree. I flipped him off, but it only made him cackle and swing his legs like a child. I wrapped my arms around the tree's trunk, using my strength to wrench it out of the ground by the root and heave it as far as I could across the training field. Orochimaru's squeal faded away in the distance as the tree sailed through the air and into oblivion.

"Fuck today," I whimpered hopelessly, picking my backpack off the ground and hoisting it over my shoulder. I hurried to catch up with Jiraiya, who was waiting for me in the quiet little creek down the forest path to my family's housing area.

The forest on the outer fringe of the Training Fields is the Senju Forest, where I often go to escape my family or simply rest. There is a tangible serenity that flows as cool as the creek's flowing water adjacent to the path. There is something about the sparkle upon the blue water, like a melody without a distinct rhythm, music without sound. Above, wave the great arms of giant trees, clothed in the greens of every palate and none, the verdant hues of nature's free dreams. In this legendary beauty, I am with my tribe of wood and leaf, among the giants whose roots hug the earth. It's a place of ancient souls, of the creatures who dwell with the sweet sounds of moving water and bird song. Somehow this is more home than my actual home. Perhaps one day I'll learn why.

Crouching on the edge of the water, Jiraiya was holding his wrist up to his face. As I approached, I could see a tiny green tree frog was resting on the back of his hand. They looked like they were both intentionally making stupid faces at one another. The toad's pupils were rapidly vibrating with sharp, zany movements while Jiraiya had one of his eyes drifting to the side, and the other somehow pointed straight up.

"Hey there, handsome," I called out loudly, causing some birds from the trees to flee noisily. Jiraiya kept his eyes crooked as he looked at me blankly. He laughed and let them revert back to normal.

"There you are! I thought you ditched me…" The toad jumped off his hand, plopping down onto a wet rock nestled in the creek's gushing water. My eyes squinted shut as I stretched my arms over my head, growling involuntarily at how good it felt. I can't wait to soak away all of this soreness in the hot spring later…

"Didn't ditch you, I was just busy disappointing Sarutobi-sensei. I'm sure you know how that is," I said nonchalant, forcing myself to maintain a straight face as I cracked all my knuckles.

He gasped in offense and laughed, flicking me in the forehead. I swatted his hand away from my face, rubbing the sore spot his finger left.

"Thanks for taking the burden off me, I guess," Jiraiya quipped while looking down at me, his full lips pulled into a smirk.

Oh, you better not have been spying on me too, Baka.

I stood up on my tip-toes and flicked him in the same spot, adding a tinge of chakra to the end of my finger just to be an asshole. I've learned to never give his sneaky ass the benefit of the doubt. For all I know, that could have been Jiraiya's shadow clone in that tree, disguised as Orochimaru. He cried out, clutching his forehead and kicking the air in front of him. "Ah, you dick!"

"That's what you get for stealing my signature move."

He stuck his tongue out at me. I copied him and pulled my cheek down to expose my full eyeball. Jiraiya rolled his eyes, his lips twitching to form an exasperated smile.

"So am I going to get to meet a baby, or did you get my hopes up for nothing?" He asked, both of his hands clutching the straps of his backpack high on his shoulders. The way he carried himself, the gestures he made… they were always so boyish and charming. I bit my lip as I watched him stroll beside me through the trees.

I nudged him in the side with my hips, bumping him off balance slightly. "You're slower than a slug." I took off running, my backpack bouncing loudly against my shoulder blades as I sprinted. "I bet I make it there before you do, Baka!"

Jiraiya scoffed, scrambling to catch up with me.

"Stupid butthead Tsunade!"

XXX

Good grief. I wish my boobs would grow as fast as Baka's arms do.

They were corded with thick muscle for a boy his age, but the way he held a laughing babe in his arms was delicate and tender. The reverence on Jiraiya's face as he gazed down at Nawaki appeared to be deeply genuine. Just that precious little moment alone nearly compelled me to demolish every carefully-built wall I've manifested to close myself off from him. It was odd, seeing such an adoring and fatherly gesture made by a teenage boy. I shouldn't be all that surprised, I suppose.

Shinobi do grow up faster than most.

Jiraiya dipped his head, blubbering and cooing as Nawaki grabbed his long index finger with a plump little hand. He laughed breathlessly, turning to me with a look of sheer wonder.

"Do you see this beautiful kid? One day, Nawaki's gonna have to fight off all the pretty girls with a stick!"

"Yes, I agree… He absolutely gets that from me," Grandpa muttered, a twinkle in his eyes as he beheld my brother in Jiraiya's arms. Grandpa Hashi flashed me a smile too, but I quickly looked away, blushing at the implication in his eyes as they darted back and forth between Jiraiya and me. I chose not to focus on him. Instead, I watched Jiraiya sway back and forth slowly, rocking the babe in his arms and crooning. "He's so happy," Jiraiya murmured adoringly. "Were you like this as a baby, Hime?" I shook my head, suddenly bashful.

"She was born with a hurricane for a soul, that one," Grandpa teased. He stated it as a fact but said it in a loving way with that soft glow in his eyes that only a proud grandfather can have for such demanding offspring. "It was impossible for Tsuna to fall asleep. Her mother and father had her younger than most other parents. They simply didn't know how to handle her." What an excellent way of saying they didn't give a shit. "There wasn't much of anything that would soothe little Tsuna but lullabies and snuggles." Grandpa strode up behind me, putting his warm hands on my shoulders and resting his cheek on the top of my head. I peacefully leaned into his touch as he kept on with his story.

"I would wear her all day long in her little carrier, and rock her in the dead of night when she couldn't sleep. She quickly became my best friend; we were absolutely inseparable. I loved the hurricane right out of that child and replaced it with the sweetest of summer breezes." He pressed a small kiss to the top of my head, and I turned to hug him to me tightly. Grandma and Grandpa were the only ones who enjoyed themselves and had actual fun raising me, despite how tough it had started out.

Jiraiya grinned at the two of us while he stroked the back of Nawaki's head fondly. "Hey, handsome?" Jiraiya whispered airily at the baby, his voice softer than the wind's sigh.

"Wanna hear a lullaby?" He shifted Nawaki in his arms, lining up his little body along the length of his forearm. "My mom sings this to me, I think you'll like it," he murmured soothingly, his eyes fluttering shut. Jiraiya began to softly hum a faint melody, bringing Nawaki up to his chest and holding him close. The lullaby was sad and haunting, a long-forgotten song traditionally sung in a choir of young girls. It sounded beautiful in his voice. He stopped humming and started to sing softly as he waltzed slowly around the room with the baby.

"Who will cry for me…when I die? Only the cicadas in the mountains…" His singing voice was hushed, deep, and just a little raspy, but still higher than I'd ever heard it. He never stopped swaying as he laid his cheek against Nawaki's chubbier one.

"No, it's not cicadas. It's my little sister. Don't cry… little sister, I will be sad for you." He peered down briefly at me, the muscles of face tugging lips into a smile as he sang against the skin of my brother's head. Grandpa Hashi's voice joined Jiraiya's, and my heart was so full like it could burst at any moment.

"When I am dead, bury me by the roadside… The passers-by will lay flowers for me." Tears began to form in my eyes, but they kept on singing, not even noticing. Jiraiya's hand cradled Nawaki's head firmly and attentively as they rocked.

"What flowers would they lay? Cam-cam-camellias… Water falling down from abo— "

The sudden whoosh of the sliding door opening roughly cut off Jiraiya's mesmerizing hymn. I could feel my skin erupt with cold sweat as I responded to the tense and familiar energy that always seemed to permeate from my mother. The instant I turned to see my mom's appalled face, I felt a deep, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Mom brought her dainty, manicured hand to her mouth in disgust, the long flowing sleeve of her vermillion kimono swaying upwards with the movement.

Here we go.

"What is he doing with my child, Hashirama?" She thundered at Grandpa, pointing an accusing finger directly at him. She was absolutely livid, as though Jiraiya holding her son was somehow tainting him. Her lip curled with revulsion as she smoldered with blind fury.

Grandpa walked over to her, cautiously stepping in front of me, Jiraiya, and Nawaki. The fact that my mother didn't call him Lord Hashirama meant she was too furious to even refer to him appropriately. Shit. Jiraiya glanced over at me with a pained grimace, his eyes filling with sorrow before moving on to my mom. He had stopped dancing but held on to Nawaki a little tighter than before as he glared indignantly at my mother.

"I was excited to show him my grandchild, Niwa," Grandpa replied, uncharacteristically bristling at my mother's tone. The fact that he dropped her honorific as well did not go unnoticed. I swear, the only time you will ever see Hashirama Senju seethe with anger is when he's forced to interact with his callous daughter-in-law. He usually waited until my father was around to voice his objections, not that Dad ever really listened to them.

Mother was unfazed as she dashed aggressively to the side to direct her angry stare at Jiraiya and me. She zeroed in on the baby in his arms, her flat eyes narrowing back at us harshly. Her hands went to her slim hips, the long silk sleeves of her kimono falling loosely at her sides. Her lips started to curl again, her attempt at sneering while still appearing dignified and demure. She raised a shaking hand at Jiraiya, who had resumed rocking the baby in his arms, not even thinking to halt his movements in the face of my enraged mother.

"Hand him over, boy. You are far too familiar."

Mom has never tried to disguise her contempt for Jiraiya ever since I first brought him home as kids to meet the family. It's as if she wants to punish the two of us for having the audacity to remain friends.

Fucking bitch.

My eyes stung, becoming polished with a glossy layer of tears at my mom's cruel words. As I blinked, they dripped from my eyelids and slid down my heated cheeks. I bit my lip tightly to hide any sounds that threatened to escape from my mouth. I turned to Jiraiya, apologizing to him without saying any words. He just gulped and looked down at my brother sadly. Grandpa only huffed, clearly frustrated and biting his tongue. He never argued with my mother, no matter how wrong she was. He'll just wait until my father gets home to say something about it.

Jiraiya stepped closer to my mom, flinching at her wide eyes when he got close enough to safely transfer the baby in her arms. "Please forgive me, my lady," Jiraiya muttered softly, his eyes fixated on Nawaki's content features.

"Mom, how could you even say such a thing? He was only singing a lullaby!"

"He was singing a samurai lullaby. An ugly ballad of self-pity, weakness, and defeat. No son of mine shall ever hear it." The baby began to wail in her arms, sensing her wickedness, his little arms reaching towards his big sister. He began to squirm and squeal, his face tomato red as he screamed loudly.

"Now look what you've done," my mother spit out at me. "Both of you, out of my sight at once."

The tears flowed unchecked down my cheeks and dripped from my chin. I was too upset to cry out or wail; I just stood there as still as a statue while the unfairness of everything swept over me. My hands balled into fists at my sides as I stared back icily at her. I opened my mouth to say something, but felt Jiraiya place a hand in the middle of my shoulder blades. "C'mon, Hime," he whispered, rushed while he guided me out of the nursery. "Let's get something to eat."

As we went through the door, I chanced a look over my shoulder at my family. Grandpa was staring at my mom with utter disgust as she seethed behind our backs. I knew he wasn't going to say anything else to her, though. It's not like my mom is a kunoichi or even a regular civilian of the village. Lady Niwa is the daughter of the Daimyo, after all. The grotesque sounds of her yells and my brother's stressed cries could be heard throughout the compound on our way out. I wiped the tears from my cheeks bitterly, but they only flowed faster. My feet stopped carrying me forward, my legs shaking with a fierceness that stopped me in my tracks.

"My mom… I just don't know why she's like this, I'm so s-so—" I tried to say, hoping to beg his forgiveness for once again subjecting him to mistreatment at my family's hands. I choked, unable to form any words. I was overcome with an aching sense of disgracefulness that caused me to wobble tremulously on my feet. You fucking fool. What did you think was going to happen? My lower lip quivered as words finally started to make their way out of my mouth. "Jiraiya..." I began, yet that's as far as I could get. Instead, what followed was engulfed in blubbering sobs.

Jiraiya's arms wrapped around my shoulders from behind. I froze in his grasp, but his hold on me never faltered, not even a little. Should I even be surprised, though? He never hesitates when it comes to cheering someone up. His shoulder is always available in case you require something sturdy to cry on. He leaned back momentarily, rocking me slightly with him as he pulled up the sleeves of his white robe. His forearms were streaked with bluish-purple veins that sat comfortably on his silky, tanned skin. The beauty spots that speckled them jumped at me when he clenched his fists, the veins pulsating with concentration. I hung my head and sobbed, tears rolling uselessly down my cheeks and onto his skin. "I'm so sorry, Jiraiya," I tried to whisper as calmly as I could muster.

"Don't apologize for her," Jiraiya whispered, resting his chin on my right shoulder as he held me tightly against him. He inhaled deeply, the solidness of his chest pressing into my back snugly with every breath he took. I didn't have the energy to do anything but melt into his touch and allow him to hold me up. His words trickled down my neck delicately, causing shivers to wrack my entire frame. He only squeezed me tighter when he felt them. His usual lecherousness vanished off somewhere because there wasn't anything about his embrace that made me felt objectified. Jiraiya always knew when to turn it off.

"I can feel the pain that swirls in your brain, Hime. You make all these excuses for her as if it's possible to explain away how she treats you as if they hold actual answers. But they don't, Tsunade. People do things because their emotions are driving them that way… all those things that hurt you, Hime, have nothing to do with you at all… and perhaps that's even worse. Just… shut her out. She doesn't deserve to take up any free space in that beautiful head. Besides, everyone already knows what a bitch Lady Niwa is."

My tears had finally stopped, leaving only the ghosts of wet tracks down my face. He can always make everything better again. I thought to myself as I allowed my breathing to match his deep and even rhythm against my back. It was impossible for me to stay anxious or upset for too long whenever I find myself in Jiraiya's protective hold.

We started to walk briskly across the courtyard, trying to put more distance between my family and us. Our pace slowed considerably once we were far away from my home. Jiraiya bumped my shoulder with his arm, looking down on me with a smile. "I think my mom said something about meat buns and rice tonight," He glanced away from me uncertainly. "Or we could go out for dinner… uhh... your choice, my treat?"

I looked back at the warm, gentle boy next to me. He seemed desperate to make me smile again, causing a grin to slowly blossom on my face. I knew there weren't any joints around that could replace his mother's cooking. "Can we please eat with your folks?" He smiled brightly and nodded, the past five minutes already behind him.

"Anything you want, Tsunade," he said flippantly, offering me his arm. "Anything you want."

XXX

We made it out the dense brush leading up to the compound's entrance, the buildings and towers of the village now in plain view. Jiraiya and I sauntered passed rows of stores and restaurants on our way to his family's apartment. The crowd is like a river of people, everyone moving in the same direction for the most part. The two of us move not like pebbles in a jar, but like water molecules flowing smoothly past one another, friends staying together with arms entwined.

Standing outside a weapon stall, staring up at the clouds, was a tall, handsome man with spiky black hair, shiny with excessive hair product. He was Tsubaki Uchiha, a Jōnin like the rest of my team and me. However, unlike Orochimaru, me, and Jiraiya, he wasn't promoted at the record-breaking age of fourteen. I believe he had about ten years on all of us.

"Great," Jiraiya muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Although Tsubaki was older, he was still very hot… with lean, rigid muscles you'd see on a dedicated swimmer. He had short, tousled hair that was slightly unkempt on the sides where his headband ties frizzed it up. His dark eyes were framed with long lashes, and he had a somewhat broad nose. He wore the Uchiha clan's relatively standard attire, a high-collared purple tunic with the crest of his proud clan on the back.

He quirked an eyebrow at us when we got closer. The setting sun cast a long shadow on half of his face, obscuring the jagged scar on his right cheek that intersects with the corner of his top lip. It was a wound I healed on a mission a few months back. I had apologized in advance, knowing my skills weren't advanced enough yet to entirely prevent scarring. He seemed indifferent when he'd been injured, but the moment I mentioned a new scar, his face paled considerably. I'd never seen him look so upset. "As if I didn't look scary enough," he lamented, looking miserable as all hell. I told him gently he was still handsome regardless, hoping he wouldn't doubt my sincerity.

Tsubaki's been looking at me sideways ever since then.

I heard a low whistle leave his lips. "Princess Tsunade," he sang lowly, his tone flirty and salacious. "Where are you munchkins headed off to?"

Jiraiya flared next to me, in no mood for any teasing.

"My place. For dinner. Would've sent you an invite, but you're a tacky greaseball, and I hate you."

Tsubaki only chuckled, dusting off his flak jacket absent-mindedly. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking bored, with one of his feet planted flat on the wall he was leaning on. His dark eyes fixated on my arms that were wrapped around Jiraiya's bicep. His eyes narrowed at the two of us.

"Shit… what I wouldn't give to be you, pipsqueak," Tsubaki breathed, his voice full of longing as he looked me up and down hungrily.

"Well, maybe if you didn't brush your hair with a pork chop, you would be," Jiraiya retorted, causing Tsubaki to double over in laughter. Jiraiya's arm flexed inside my grasp. I quickly became fed up with all the tension. I just want to go home and eat, for the love of GOD!

My own eyes rolled skyward, already bored with the impending pissing match. I let go of Jiraiya's arm, catching his petulant scowl in my peripherals. Tsubaki only grinned.

"Can you guys maybe stop being dicks for like two seconds?"

"I apologize, Princess," Tsubaki bowed, and it honestly looked super dumb to me. I seriously wanted to die from the formality of it all.

"Good grief, do not call me that either!" I yelled exasperated.

"Forgive me, my lady," Tsubaki said, still bowing. "I'm ashamed to admit it, but I'm hopelessly jealous of him," he said, nodding his head toward Jiraiya, who looked like his head was about to explode. Tsubaki huffed, forlorn. "I'd do just about anything to call you mine."

"You do know she's 14, right? Aren't you, like, 35?" Jiraiya deadpanned.

Douche. You know my birthday was last weekend.

The good-natured mask Tsubaki had on his face dissolved for a moment as he scowled in offense.

"I'm 21, prick."

"Hmmm. Still gross. How come girls your own age don't like you?" Jiraiya asked innocently, cocking his head to the side and putting a finger to his lips.

"Oh, so now the peeping tom is going to preach to me?"

"Hey, at least I'm looking at women and not creeping on underage girls."

"You being scummy doesn't somehow cancel out whatever it is you're accusing me of. I honestly don't see how leering at naked grandmothers while they bathe puts you in any position to talk, loser."

Tsubaki loomed over to me suddenly, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward his chest. He looked into my eyes imploringly. "I'm not interested in any other girls: only you, Lady Tsunade. I hope one day I get the chance to court you and make you happy. With your beauty, our children are sure to be absolutely angelic." He flashed me a brilliant smile as if he didn't just say the most batshit crazy thing ever.

My blood ran cold, sweat covering my palms as I planted them on his chest to put a little distance between us.

"Ch-children?" I sputtered dumbly.

Jiraiya was purple in the face when Tsubaki reached down and grabbed my hand again, bringing it to his lips. He placed a soft kiss on my wrist, looking in my teammate's eyes the whole time. He seemed satisfied with whatever look was on Jiraiya's face before he dropped my hand and backed away.

"Please give my regards to Lord Hokage." He started to leave abruptly, his hands buried in his pants pockets.

"Yeah, well, should the village ever face an oil shortage, I'll be sure to let Lord Third know we can always invade your scalp!" Jiraiya yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify the sound.

Tsubaki huffed, turning back to call out to our retreating forms. "It's fucking hair gel, you ass!"

Jiraiya threw his arm around my shoulder again. Only instead of it being a comforting gesture, it felt like more of a spiteful one. I twitched angrily at his possessive touch as we began walking again.

"Heh, heh. I was kind of on roll today. All those hair jokes."

I shook his arm off again. This time he didn't react, just stuffed his hands into the pockets of his martial arts pants. "I can't believe the old man said he wanted to get you pregnant!" He laughed while simultaneously cringing. "That was so fucked, like honestly."

"Eh, it's pretty typical if I'm telling the truth." He chuckled.

"Typical of what, exactly? Men?"

"Of Uchiha men..." I trailed off.

"What do you mean?"

"He only wants me because if we were to have children, they would automatically be born with the Rinnegan. That's it."

"The Rinnegan? How is that possible? I just figured it was a Kekkei Genkai that needed to be awakened."

"As far as I know, that's not always the case."

"Then how exactly?"

I lowered my voice considerably. "It's possible to obtain the Rinnegan by combining Uchiha DNA and Senju DNA." His mouth gaped as he looked back in Tsubaki's direction. "That's why Uchiha boys are all over me like all the damn time. I'm the only female member of the Senju Clan… and every one of them knows that if I were to birth an Uchiha, it would automatically possess the Rinnegan due to both our bloodlines." I picked at a stray blonde hair sticking out of my bangs as Jiraiya gawked at me from my side.

While we were on this subject, I was reminded of something really creepy my uncle Tobirama told me when I was like, five. "I mean, technically, I don't even have to be knocked up to create it. They could pop out my eyeballs and replace them with a pair of Sharingan. I could open my new eyes and bam. There they are, purple rings."

He whistled long and low. "That's fucking weird. Buncha creepy bastards if you ask me," he said, kicking a rock into the wooden fence off to the side.

In all honesty, I sort of liked the attention I received from some of the Uchiha boys. Tsubaki was hot but a little too old for me, and he also made me uncomfortable with his leering. But the boys closer to my age were so sexy—,, especially Ryuji….

Ryuji Uchiha was a tall and sculpted man at seventeen, with long spiky hair down to his ribs and deep piercing brown eyes. He was always so quiet, but whenever I was around, he'd flash me the sweetest smile, one that gleamed brighter than the silver studs in his ears. Part of me wishes Uncle Tobirama was still alive so I can see the look on his face, should I ever get the chance to actually bring Ryuji home.

That would be so priceless.

"Why were you so silent the whole time? I swear, I've seen you lose your shit on someone for way less." He shot me a dirty look from the corner of his eye. The short, red markings underneath his eyes scrunched up a little as he squinted at me accusingly. "That someone is me, I'm talking about me here." I blushed heavily, scratching the back of my neck and avoiding that suspicious glare.

"Trust me, I don't like it," I lied.

I very much do like it, and I want Ryuji to suck on my tongue…

"But Grandpa says it's important for me as a Senju to treat their clan with respect, given our shitty past. And I don't wanna upset him by starting beef with the Uchiha Clan."

I tried not to imagine offering myself to a harem of shirtless Uchiha men like a slab of meat on a platter.

"Lord First said to be respectful to the Uchiha. I'm sure he didn't mean for you to allow them all to completely salivate over you and do nothing. Respect needs to go both ways, Hime."

"I didn't do 'nothing,'" I clarified. Baka raised an eyebrow at me like I was making zero sense to him. "I'm considering his offer. Maybe I do want a buncha onion-eyed ankle-biters running around the house someday."

"Onion eyes," Jiraiya snorted. "That's pretty funny." The sky started to bloom with pinks and oranges, signaling the beginning of the end of today. We stopped briefly to admire its beauty. Jiraiya suddenly gave me a pompous bow, his hands coming together at his navel as he bent forward with mock respectfulness. "We must haste, Lady Uchiha." I rolled my eyes at him when he stood back up. "Besides, my dad will eat everything if we don't get there fast enough."

XXX

Tsunade, age 17

Shortly after turning fifteen, Jiraiya left the village on his own for a couple years to focus on his training with the toad masters. I asked him why he felt the need to go, and he said he would never improve if he stayed in the same place all his life. I supported his decision, already aware of his inability to stay put for too long. However, his departure to Mount Myōboku caused me to fall into a deep and dark depression. There was this suffocating feeling of guilt like I took for granted the best friend I've ever had. In that moment of loss, my world collapsed in on itself. Where there was light became only shadows, the pain coming and going steadily like waves on frigid sand. Though my mind called out for his, the connection was gone. Jiraiya was gone.

Training with him usually brought on its own drama, since he always had a problem controlling his urges, but it was still something I strangely looked forward to. Not so much for his heavy-handed advances, but for the chance to make prolonged eye contact with those onyx eyes, to see the humor drain from his face when he decided to get serious and strike at me. With Jiraiya missing from my daily training sessions, I felt completely and utterly lost.

Rational thoughts could barely form in my mind before they were replaced with the melancholic longing and the fantasies of what could be if only I were brave enough to quit lying to myself. Food became like cardboard, a laborious chore to even eat. I daydreamed about how amazing it would be when I finally get to see Baka's face. I recalled every distinct feature of his, his spiky white locks, that little mole on his nose's left side. I logged all of his quirky mannerisms into my brain. Whenever I was with Orochimaru, I talked of nothing and no one else but him, and now it seemed Orochimaru had started to avoid me because of it. Could it be everyone's bored of hearing it by now, tired of listening to me?

In his absence, I spent most of my time with Jiraiya's parents. I get along well enough with my grandparents, which was great because they were still the clan heads, and you always want to be on the right side of your clan leaders. Despite that, my parents are a completely different story. My father is a lot like my Uncle Tobirama, but in demeanor only, not in looks or skill. He doesn't possess the talents of our clan, and yet his expectations for me have always been astronomically high. My father has forever tried to live vicariously through me, even though I'm technically a prodigy who surpassed him long ago. Recently, though, they were so busy with Nawaki that I felt even more out of place being at home. They really only wanted to discuss shinobi matters with me, and that got real old fast. Without Jiraiya in the village, I slacked off a bit with my training, and my parents eventually took notice. I started to get singled out. My parents never failing to remind me of my standing as a Senju every chance they get. Grandpa would always be at my defense since clan politics always disgusted him, but part of me couldn't help but wonder if maybe he was a little disappointed. I hated myself for making Grandpa's life more difficult.

Luckily, I could be myself around Jiraiya's family with no hesitation. They treated me like I was their family too, even going so far as to call me "daughter" in the years that their son had left. Despite my grandfather's amicable relationship with Jiraiya, my parents didn't approve of our friendship one bit. There was just nothing they could do about it since we were hand-picked by the Third Hokage for his students. My mother and father didn't think it was proper of me, Princess Tsunade, to associate myself with a trouble-making boy from a scandalized family.

There was a reason why Jiraiya's family lived in the apartments on the outskirts of the village. They still resided in the city, but alongside the thick, wooded area on the way to the cemetery. The apartments were cute enough, with a backyard garden full of cherry blossom trees shared by all the other tenants. There was even a beautiful koi pond in the middle of the rock garden outback. But it was still a far cry from the clan compounds that people from prominent clans were living in. I always wondered about it, but I never asked Jiraiya what happened. I only heard whispers that his mother had been caught up in a big scandal involving many of the most distinguished clans in the Leaf, with the Senju Clan at the center of it all. Over the years, Jiraiya had been in quite a few fights with our peers, Orochimaru and I even felt the need to jump in to help many times.

One thing came up every single time.

"Son of a whore!"

We jumped in, not because he couldn't handle himself, but because Orochimaru and I hated hearing someone badmouth Jiraiya's mother. The two of us never pressed him about it, though. And whenever Sarutobi-sensei had to inevitably deal with the fallout of our actions, the look on his face clearly told Orochimaru and me not to even bother asking.

So we didn't.

Around the time Nawaki turned two, Jiraiya had been gone for a little over a year. Things at home were much worse than usual. It got so bad that I started to spend less and less time with my precious little brother, opting to be alone somewhere rather than being vehemently scolded by Mom and Dad for whatever reason. If it's not one thing, it's another. Always. Unfortunately, Grandma Mito and Grandpa Hashi couldn't always be there to help me.

Today, it was my mother who was upset with me. Big surprise there.

My mom was standing in the courtyard, her hands interlocked while she stood in front of the stone fountain. She was alone standing there, waist-length blonde hair swirling fiercely in the wind behind her. She regarded me with hardened eyes as I approached her. When I got close to her, I could see my nervous expression reflected in those cold emeralds she called eyes.

"Daughter," she sneered. It didn't hold the same reverence as it did when Jiraiya's mom and dad said it. I sighed, preparing for an argument.

"Hi, Mom," I said softly. "Where's little bro?" I ask, looking around guiltily.

I hate it here. I don't even have a reason to feel guilty, and yet I still do.

"He's out with your grandmother. Where have you been?"

I had spent the day training at Jiraiya's house with his mom, but there was no way in hell I'd offer that information to her. "I was training with Hayami and her clan. My taijutsu is really improving thanks to the Hyuga." I tried to brush past her, but she nearly clotheslined me. I stopped in my tracks, meeting her furious eye.

"If you were training with Hayami, why would she come by today –alone– to return the sakura hakama you let her borrow?" She smirked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath. Hayami, you considerate bitch.

"You were with that harlot, weren't you? How many times must we forbid you from associating with scum? That boy and his rotten family have nothing of value to offer us. It's bad enough Lord Third was short-sighted enough to put that brat on the same team as you."

The rage I was struggling to keep down bubbled to the surface.

"Your judgments are baseless! They're amazing people, and all you do is disrespect them!"

My mom lurched forward, grabbing me by the hem of my top. "They're trash! I forbid you from visiting that disgrace of a woman. Kagami Hatake is a filthy whore, and you will end up just like her if you're not too careful."

Hatake? What does she mean by Hatake?

"I don't even know what a whore is! But if Miss Kagami is one, then I want to be one too! She is a wonderful woman and a formidable kunoichi, and I want to be just like her! She is the only one who wants to take the time to train me anymore. Ever since Jiraiya left, Sarutobi-sensei has been devoting all his time to Orochimaru. He's too busy grooming the next Hokage to teach me anything anymore!"

My mother reached backward and backhanded me with all her might. It stung only a little, but the pain inside me was profound. Mom…

"My word is final, you insolent little bitch!" She jabbed me in the forehead with her finger, slowly advancing as she punctuated each word with gritted teeth and sharp little jabs to my temple.

"I…don't… care… what your excuse is! Disobey me again, and you will be sorry, I promise you that, Tsunade."

Before I could even think, I ran my fist through the stone rose statue of the fountain behind her head. She flinched but didn't move as debris and water showered us both. I shivered miserably as the evening winds chilled my drenched body to the bone. My mother's blonde hair was darkened with water as it hung over her face like a sopping wet mop.

"The day you can beat me in a fight is the day I let you order me around." I snatched my backpack from the ground at my mother's feet. She looked shocked but also enraged beyond belief. "Don't wait up," I muttered lowly as I brushed debris off of my shoulder. The pure unadulterated anger coming from my mom suddenly bloomed into sheer joy, a manic smile creeping its way to her face. That's when I knew it was time for me to get the fuck out of there. She's past being angry; she's at the point where she is looking forward to making me pay. I hoped she didn't see the fear in my eyes as I dashed off. Even though deep down, I know she did.

She always did.

I flew through the village, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. By the time I'd passed the hospital, I could feel my dad following slowly behind. I looked over my shoulder to see that he really was tailing me, slow but steady. I ran faster, trying to get back to Jiraiya's place as soon as possible, even though I already spent all day there. I picked up the pace as I frantically made my way to the only safe place for me that existed. The bitter irony of it all is hard for me to choke down. My grandfather helped found this village, yet the only place where I felt safe was in some rundown apartment.

I planted my feet in the center of the water tower, using my legs' strength to gain momentum in the air. I could hear the loud crunch of metal as I jumped, and I knew Lord Third and Danzō would give me shit about it later. But that wasn't a problem for now. I soared through the air, hearing distant gasps and gossip from down below as I landed on the balcony rail of the Hokage's mansion.

I looked through the glass helplessly, hoping that Sarutobi-sensei would read the situation and come between my dad and me. But as I peered inside, I saw the bewildered face of Lord Third as he turned in his seat. In front of him were a squad of ANBU and several shinobi from Intel. I could see the startled face of Inoichi Yamanaka's father as I distracted from what was most likely a very crucial mission report. I couldn't have shown up at a worse time. Lord Hokage looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to stop staring at all of them. "Take it somewhere else!" he screamed at me through the wall of glass between us. I nodded and jumped again, bending the bars of the railing with a screeching crunch.

I never stopped running, jumping from tree to tree, building to building. I wiped the sweat from my forehead, exhausted, not from physical exhaustion, but from fear of what my dad plans on doing to me. I know I talk a lot of shit about my dad's lack of skill, but there is one elite skill that he's possessed for some time, and I planned to avoid it at all costs. There was a reason my dad was the commanding officer of the Konoha Torture and Interrogation Force. My legs nearly broke from beneath me and collapsed onto the nearest branch. My heart started racing, and I knew that I couldn't quit. I had to keep going. Branches constantly attacked me, leaves crunched under my feet, and big, brown logs seemed to appear out of nowhere as if to halt me. But I still pushed forward. I wanted to stop before my lungs gave out on me, unable to calm myself in the face of terror. My blonde hair was matted with sweat, my arms and legs all bruised and cut, and my clothes looked like rags, dirty and tattered. I looked like a leaking pipe, but still, I had to escape him.

I made it to the bottom of the hill on the path to the backyard garden of Jiraiya's apartment complex when my dad caught up with me. Off in the distance, I could see the stretch of land covered in headstones. I switched tactics, whipping my body around to face him and flung a kunai at his shoulder. He wasn't expecting me to attack, not used to engaging in combat that wasn't entirely one-sided. It sliced open his burgundy robe at his shoulder, crimson liquid flowing freely down his arm and blending into the fabric. I concentrated my chakra to my fists, ready to pummel his head before he got the chance to hurt me again.

But my luck had long run out.

Using one of the few jutsus my father excelled at, he paralyzed me with a complex set of hand signs. My body slammed into the dirt and grass mid-stride. I could see my father's feet as he stood calmly off to the side of my head. He was wearing traditional sandals with stiff, white tabi socks. He used his big toe to nudge my petrified body, rolling me roughly, so my back hit the ground. I stared up at the evening sky, the sun almost ready to set. Tears slid into my ears silently as I waited for him to start.

"You worthless cunt," he growled. "You thought you were really doing something earlier, weren't you?" he mocked.

I couldn't move, but I could still scream. "Leave me alone!"

"Quiet, you little bitch. All you've really done is put the last nail in your coffin." He kicked me in the rib, but I sucked in my cry of pain, not wanting to see the frisson of excitement in my own father's eyes at my suffering.

"As if I fucking care!"

My dad continued on as if I'd never even spoken. From the corner of my eyes, I could see his robe brandishing the colors of our clan, twisting boldly behind him in the wind. "We don't need you anymore, daughter. You've proven to be a useless heir for many years now."

"Oh, I'm useless? Because I didn't inherit the fucking Wood Style? Sounds like someone else I know," I spit out in rage. The bottom of his sandal made a deafening slap against my forehead, wrenching my head to force me to look to the side.

"You can insult your father all you'd like, but you will never lead the Senju. You are nothing more than a barely significant bargaining chip I could use to marry you off to another clan. Your brother will restore our clan to greatness one day while you birth your husband's meaningless whelps."

This was something he's said to me before, yet something inside me snapped. I laid there paralyzed, but unhinged.

"I don't give a fuck about leading the clan! Our clan is bullshit. There has only been one cool Senju, and that is Grandpa Hashi. You didn't inherit the Mokuton, neither did Uncle Tobirama, I didn't, I doubt Nawaki will either! When will you realize that our family's mighty legacy already ended because of you, the talentless son of the God of Shinobi? Grandpa creates life with the palms of his hands; you only know how to destroy and cause pain. And it can't even be used in combat. You're so useless you don't even get scheduled for missions, you're only of use when someone needs to be tortured. Fuck you, dad. If you weren't restraining me, I would crush you. And you fucking know it!"

Everything was silent, but the wind and my huffing breaths. I knew I shouldn't have said any of it. All I've done is make things worse for myself, as usual. Because my father surprisingly has another skill. He can cause you immense pain once you're stuck in his paralysis. All he needed to do was turn his outstretched fingers into a fist, and my body suddenly felt like it was on fire.

He knows when he sees my eyes brimming with tears that he should relent before people in the village start talking about us again. But he doesn't stop, because that's something a decent person would do. Only when I'm openly weeping and broken does he stop. He'd always pretend to feel guilty afterward, but that never stopped him before, and it wouldn't stop him this time. He enjoys abusing me too much. And we were too far from Grandma and Grandpa for them to stop this before it even started. As usual, I was on my own.

Searing shots of pain ran up and down my body, a scream escaping my cracked lips as the devastating sounds bounced off of the trees. My father was now crouching next to me, soaking in my anguish with a forced look of indifference. As if to pretend as though this was a simple matter of disciplining one's child, rather than an excuse to lash out on someone he truly hates. Me.

His presence at my side was like an iron fire poker digging into my rib. I glanced over to see my father struggling to hide a smile before giving up and letting a gleeful grin stretch across his face. He was conventionally handsome, but whatever charm he once had was now long gone. His crimson hair was long and unruly, and dark circles outlined those bloodshot brown eyes. His skin was paler than the tanned skin the rest of our clan had. He hadn't spent too much time outside in quite some time. I hated everything about him, his light brown eyes- my eyes- and the beautiful red hair he didn't deserve that he inherited from Granny Mito.

Fucking die already!

Father didn't seem at all bothered by the screams pouring out of me, his only daughter. If anything, he seemed amused by my pain. His stony-eyed stare raked over my twitching body before him as if he were inspecting a freshly plucked turkey, ready to be rubbed with herbs and put in the oven. The sunset rays above reflected off the beads of sweat that settled on my dad's forehead.

My agony was his entertainment.

After what felt like hours, he finally released me from his hold. My mind screamed for me to retaliate, but my body wouldn't respond. Sending a single punch to my stomach, my father stood up fully and began to leave, but not without giving me one last lingering glance to the daughter he claimed to everyone that he loved.

"Don't bother coming home."

"Like it's up to you. It's Grandpa's house, not yours."

He whipped back around, and before I knew it, I was back in his hold again. He clenched his fist, the pain once again coursing through me.

"Lord First won't live forever, you know. One day, Tsunade, I'm going to marry you off, and my family will finally be able to wash the stain of you off our legacy. I won't even accept a dowry for trash like you. You are nothing to us."

"Hiroki Senju!" A deep voice cut through my screams and my father's low threats. I instantly knew who the voice belonged to. "Release her now, you piece of shit!"

From the top of the hill, I could see a giant figure bounding towards us. Jiraiya's father barreled down the path, sharp katana bouncing against his hip. My father looked like he wanted to flee, but he quickly straightened up and faced the larger man with a prideful, calculating glare.

"Sanjiro," my father spit out with derision.

Sanjiro is a very tall, well-built man who towered over everyone in our village. He had waist-length, spiky black hair that he usually ties back into a long ponytail that hangs past his waist, with two shoulder-length bangs framing his face. He often wore the standard Konoha-nin uniform, but right now, he was careening towards us shirtless with a pair of threadbare drawstring pants he always wore when Kagami did the laundry. Like Jiraiya, there were red lines under Sanjiro's eyes, but his markings extended further down his face, whereas Jiraiya's were only about two inches long. His sharp, chiseled face still looked youthful, aside from the laugh lines he had developed around the corners of his mouth. He had a large, smooth mole on the left side of his nose that his wife would always lovingly kiss as he laughed and pushed her face away.

He wasn't laughing right now, though. I'd never seen him look so angry as he watched my father with revulsion.

"Tsunade, can you move?" Sanjiro asked me frantically. I nodded my head from my spot on the ground, my arms wrapped around myself as shivers wracked my still soaked body. "Run inside, sweetie. Kagami will take care of you."

I wanted to do as I was told, but I didn't want him to involve himself with my father once again. Bad things always happened to people who dared cross him.

"Please don't do anything," I cried brokenly. "He isn't worth it."

He looked down at me, smiling sadly. "Yes he is, my dear. Go on inside, I promise I'll handle this. It'll be okay."

I was too afraid to leave him alone with my dad. I knew he was a formidable fighter, especially with a sword. But my dad lacked honor and has never been afraid to fight absolutely dirty. Instead of leaving, I allowed him to physically put himself in between my dad and me.

"You sound awfully confident for someone raised by samurai trash. One day, you and the rest of your pathetic family will be banished from the Leaf. Mark my words. You've never had the right to live amongst us, Sanjiro."

Sanjiro never lowered his sword, just cracked his neck as he looked at my father with amusement.

"My father was a samurai, but my mother was a kunoichi of the Leaf. I have every right to be here. It's you who doesn't belong. Your parents are the most astounding ninja in our country's history, and yet their only child is… a pathetic jackass?" Sanjiro popped his jaw and cracked a fierce smile. "You've never been anything but a stain."

The smirk on my father's face completely fell. I couldn't help but shiver with terror at what was to come. My dad balefully raised his hands to perform his hand signs, when suddenly a woman's voice rang through the clearing.

"Hiroki!" I turned to see Miss Kagami screaming from the rock garden. "Get the fuck away from my man before I rip you to shreds!"

Her rage held all the power of a wildfire. You could practically see the flames roaring in her eyes from all the way over here, ready to ignite anything that she came in contact with. The closer she advanced on us, the more visible her rage became. It was clear she saw nothing but pulsing reds. Her fingers coiled into fists around the handles of her kunai. Waves of fury rolled off her as the blood rose to her fair cheeks. The term anger, barely even touched the tip of the volcano that she so clearly was in at that moment. My dad's hands fell to his sides. I'd never seen him so intimidated in my life. I couldn't keep the smile from taking over my face at my father's expense. Trailing at her side and behind her were four snarling ninja dogs. Oh, shit, she really isn't fucking around!

Jiraiya's mother, Kagami, is easily the most beautiful kunoichi in the entire village. She's tall and slender, with an enviable hourglass frame. She has the most beautiful shade of sapphire eyes tinged with green around the pupils. Her hair-which, she usually wore down-was long, silky, and silver. The color of her hair did not age her one bit, though. Right now, it was styled in a long, spiky fanned-ponytail because she had been training me earlier today. She regularly wears a fitted mesh bodysuit that covers her from her neck down to her thighs, along with a black miniskirt, an aqua blue haori with shuriken printed all over the fabric, and pale grey shin guards. She was currently wearing one of Sanjiro's giant black yukatas over her bodysuit, her forehead protector still on from our training session.

Kagami may be an outcast in her own village, but there were always still whispers about how she is the most desirable woman that resides here to this day.

My dad sneered at her hatefully. "Oh, look. If it isn't the village whore."

Sanjiro growled.

My father's words didn't affect Kagami whatsoever. She just laughed bitterly and entered her battle stance, her ninken dogs poised to strike. "A whore who still never fucked you."

Despite the situation, Sanjiro started guffawing at his wife's words. "No matter how many times he tried."

What little color my dad's pallid skin contained quickly drained from his face. He was white as chalk, which was a sharp contrast to his scarlet hair. Me? My eyes and mouth were frozen wide open in an expression of stunned surprise, and although I was staring straight at Dad, he appeared not to notice me at all. He just stood there dumbly, looking stupefied.

The words came out before I could stop them.

"What the fuck!"

The three adults around me all completely ignored my outburst. Kagami concentrated her wind chakra to the blades of her kunai, sharpening them considerably. My dad gulped but still dared to antagonize her.

"Are you seriously threatening your better?" He asked incredulously.

Sanjiro snorted with glee. "You actually think you're superior, twat? You know one jutsu."

Kagami chimed in with laughter as she stepped closer to my dad. "That's a laugh. I was in the ANBU Black Ops, I know you already know that. And I don't need a little justu to torture your feeble ass."

"I don't need a jutsu to take you peasants down."

"Last time we saw you on our property, you burned down our farm and nearly killed our son," Sanjiro declared with hatred. "Now you've come back… to torture your own daughter? Big man, you are."

Kagami rushed him, grabbed him by the throat, and sweeping her leg, she effortlessly took down my father, who didn't even bother to put up a fight. She tightened her fingers around his jugular, keeping him in place in the dirt. "If I hear about you or your bitch wife hurting Tsuna again, I will have my dogs rip you apart. And the same goes for you showing up at my house. It's a fuckin' promise, Hiroki."

My dad turned his head to spit at their feet. "Fuck you, Hatake whore." His eyes met mine for the first time since Jiraiya's parents showed up. "Tsunade, you're banished from the compound. I hope for your sake you said goodbye to your little brother. Your face is no longer welcome here anymore."

I tried to put on a brave face, but his words broke me to my core.

"It wasn't welcome before either. Plus, you don't have the authority."

Grandpa Hashi would never let that happen.

"Like I said earlier. You won't always have someone there to save your ass like usual. Don't think about coming back."

He dusted off his burgundy robes, the proud colors of the renowned Senju Clan. I felt bile start to rise while I turned his words over in my head. Fright seized me as I considered the safety of my grandparents. My father wasn't strong enough to take them head-on, but he was dishonorable enough to unseat them both in other ways, and I didn't want to consider the possibilities. Especially after finding out he's the reason Jiraiya's family lives in this part of town after the house fire…

I don't recall the walk up to the apartment. I was stuck watching my father's retreating form until suddenly I was in the warm, familiar space of Kagami and Sanjiro's home. It was technically more modern compared to how most of us lived in the village. It was a Japanese-style raised bungalow with a balcony in the back and a staircase on the unit's side. There were six of them next to each other that made up the apartment complex. Jiraiya's bedroom faced the garden out back, and I envied his view all the time.

Kagami rubbed my arms, shocking me with how cold my skin had become. "Tsuna, how about you take a bath while we cook you up something hot to eat?"

At that moment, there was nothing more in the world I wanted than to do just that.

I nodded, trying to smile to reassure her. Tears slid down instead.

"Ohhhh, honey."

Two pairs of strong arms wrapped around me as sobs wracked my body.

"You will never overstay your welcome here, sweetheart," Sanjiro whispered, tightening his hold around his wife and me. "No one can hurt you here."

Kagami kissed me on the cheek, her eyes searching mine. There was concern in her gaze, but also an unfathomable amount of love. It made me happy to know this is what Jiraiya gets to come home to. It is no wonder he is the kind of person he is, being raised by these two amazing people.

"Jiraiya-kun's room is yours for now. I'm having a talk with Lord Third tomorrow. You will see your little brother again, Tsuna. I promise." Kagami smoothed my hair back, and I leaned into her touch. She let me without hesitation.

"And if your parents want to keep being difficult, I'll collect all your things, and you can stay here for as long as you want. We love you, baby." Sanjiro kissed me on the forehead.

"I love you guys, too. I don't know what I'd do without either of you."

When it came to my family… I had to learn how to take care of myself, deal with my own problems, and not lean on anyone, learn how to fix myself alone after each painful fall, and find the road to real wellness. I guess there's a reason warriors and heroes have parts of their story alone, the part where they psychologically mature into a person others can rely on. The journey is brutal, ruthless. But currently being surrounded by these two compassionate, mighty parents, I started to wonder if this really was the journey I was meant to embark on. Maybe life doesn't have to be so hard all the time…

Kagami made a bath for me, even taking the time to add petals and soap to make it look more luxurious. I was so tired I didn't also take the time to examine what kind of flowers I was bathing in. I just slid down into the water, letting it block out the rest of the world's sounds. Next to me on the sink was a pile of Jiriaya's white robes with the red flames at the bottom. They ended up being tight around my chest, considering these were clothes he wore as a child. But no one has seen him in some time now, so this is simply all we had of him. And I honestly didn't want to wear anything else.

How spoiled is Baka that he has his own bathtub, yet he chooses to perv out at the hot spring?

Mushroom soup, bitter greens with tomatoes the size of peas, rare roast beef slices as thin as paper, noodles in a green sauce, cheese that melts on your tongue served with sweet blue grapes. It was more than I could've hoped for. They even gave me my first taste of sake, which surprisingly made everything feel very... okay.

Later that night, after a round of hugs, I retired to their son's cozy room. I reverently rubbed my fingers along his soft mattress. I was so used to my cold, minimalist room at home. I was used to my stupid futon on the floor. His comforter was thick and irresistibly soft, like a billowing cloud. I toppled onto it, relieved to rest my weary feet. Warmth and darkness enveloped me. My thoughts were full of Jiraiya. Hoping he was happy and enjoying himself, but still ready to come home to us soon.

As my consciousness ebbed, my mind went into a free fall, swirling with the beautiful chaos of a new dream.

XXX

i want to apologize for promising regular updates and then not giving you guys anything for two months... that was scummy. ive been dealing with major health issues this whole time and im still concentrating on getting better. ive also put my participation in the protests against police brutality first because its such a major issue out here in america. it honestly feels like this country is imploding on itself right now. im going to do what i can to keep writing this story i love. life is just crazy here right now. i thank you all for still reading and for being patient. you guys are amazing.