After last chapter's big reveal you might think the twists and turns of this arc are over. But, you'd be wrong.

WARNING: this chapter deals with some sensitive topics such as talk/ and a vivid flashback of child abuse, attempted sexual assault, and forced prostitution. To anyone who may be sensitive to those things, I would advise skipping over the first POV. Basically, if you don't want to read that, start reading after the first real line break.

Also, unlike in canon, Hashirama and Madara had not lost any of their siblings to the other's clan when they began meeting as children. The death of Kawarama (aftermath shown in a previous chapter) happened sometime after they met but before the big confrontation between their fathers and siblings.

This was self-betaed. As everyone can see this chapter is long. Very, very long. Because I wanted this arc to finish up very soon. Next chapter ends it. I may have missed some mistakes even after combing through this so many times. But I hope it turned out alright.

The thick scent of incense permeated the air, and memories washed over her with gale-force. The wood floor was polished to a shimmer, a spry bamboo by the door that she suspected would have made the Hokage envious. Ornate folding screens decorated either side of the room, and hid the corridors just beyond. Naoko sighed loudly. The young girl behind the counter gave her a quick, cursory glance.

Then a longer one, accompanied by a startled gasp as the kunoichi strutted over. She leaned her weight against the shiny surface and smiled pleasantly. "Hello," she cooed. "I'm looking for Madame Kobayakawa."

The stunned girl blinked doe brown eyes, lashes fluttering over the apples of her freckled cheeks. She bit down on her lip and fidgeted with the sleeve of her yukata unsurely. "S-She's not in at the moment."

Naoko raised a brow, not missing the way her eyes darted to the byōbu. Nodding, she raised her voice, "I see. It's a shame. I heard this was the best pleasure establishment in the capital and wanted to ask the Madame about securing services for a large party."

The flustered girl tensed, her throat moving with a quiet gulp. "Y-Yes, I apologize for the misunderstanding. Please wait a moment." She scurried off behind the screen paneling.

Naoko cocked her head, waiting. 'I didn't think my method was too bad…'

She heard the hushed voices, sensed the movement further back. One voice in particular was a brusque admonishment, though the words were lost to her.

Clipped footsteps made their way down the hall, and then the timid yūjowas returning with an older woman in a nicer yukata wearing a severe expression. It smoothed into a professional smile once she laid eyes on the Uchiha, shooting a small glance at the girl, who disappeared with her head bowed.

Madame Kobayakawa stepped forward, pressing a hand down her waist with a small bow. "I apologize for the misunderstanding. That one is among our newest. But we have many more experienced yūjo. If you'd follow me, we can discuss the arrangement somewhere private." One sweep over the proprietress revealed she hadn't changed much inwardly.

Though she wore more jewelry to flaunt the success running the brothel had offered her. There was a sparkling ring on one of her index fingers with a large cut of sapphire resting in silver. Her throat was adorned in a beautiful sapphire pendant to match and her lobes were heavy with the shine of pricy earrings.

Streaks of gray in her neatly pinned hair suggested she couldn't buy away the flow of time, although anyone looking would be more inclined to stare at the golden comb encrusted with pearls holding the hairstyle together.

Yes, Kobayakawa had spared no expense to make herself comfortable with the finest riches, evidenced by the high-end dyed cloth of her clothing as much as all the jewelry. Shame the smile pasted on her painted lips did nothing for the stern lines carved into her face.

Naoko hummed, treading lightly as they entered the hidden corridor beyond the byōbu. As expected, many closed sliding doors lined the hallway, the private quarters to the countless women who called this place home. "Do you have anything in particular you're looking for?" Madame Kobayakawa asked conversationally. "All our young ladies study the arts, you know. Many can play instruments and recite poetry if you'd like to unwind first."

"Is that so?" Naoko's eyes fluttered to the hand-painted pictures hung on the walls. "Is this artwork their doing as well?"

Madame Kobayakawa followed her gaze. "Yes, some of it. Here we are." They veered into a side hall to the right, one with a single door at the end. The office Naoko stepped into housed more paintings on the wall, a meticulously carved desk with documents stacked neatly, and a spot off to the side for tea time. "Please, make yourself comfortable. I've just brewed myself some afternoon tea."

The kunoichi kneeled wordlessly on a velvet pillow as Madame reached for a small bell on her desk. Three clear rings and one of the walls in the room folded in, revealing itself to be hollow. A young mousy girl stepped out hurriedly.

"Yes, Madame?" she asked.

"Fresh snacks. Quickly."

The child, probably no older than ten, flew away at the command.

"Now," Madame brought over a kettle and cups on a tray, setting them down on the low table between them. "While we wait, I'll tell you a bit more about my operation. I've run this pleasure house for nearly thirty years, and you weren't misled that we offer our clients only the finest girls. They're healthy, obedient, and naturally all beautiful."

Naoko accepted her cup of tea and breathed in the notes of jasmine. Kobayakawa offered her a delicate jar of honey. She declined. "And their ages?"

"Ah," Shifting, the Madame cleared her throat. "Most begin training here young, with a few exceptions here and there. By fifteen the girls are seeing their first clients. I could provide you with a more thorough account of the services and talents of each, should you need it. How many do you think your party would like to request?"

There was a small knock before Naoko had the opportunity to respond, and the child from before entered with a plate of steaming dumplings. Kobayakawa took them and shooed her from the room.

"You know, I came a long way," the Uchiha delicately selected a plump one from the bowl with her chopsticks. It was drizzled in sweet syrup and shaped to perfection. Kobayakawa's eyes gleamed greedily. To most, she might appear to be a stoic businesswoman. But Naoko knew. She saw the way the woman was internally salivating. There was no doubt that she had received such excellent treatment so far because the Madame assumed she and her "party" would be willing to spend big. "But I have to confess something…" Tempering her eagerness, the older woman leaned back.

"Hm?"

"I'm far more interested in information than the services of your yūjo." Her thin fingers were steady as she sipped her tea, steadier as she ate her sweets and wiped the corner of her mouth with a thumb. "I thought you wouldn't mind sharing it with an old friend."

Here, Kobayakawa's eyes squinted. "I'm sorry, have we…?"

Naoko sighed, "I was hoping I'd left more of a lasting impression than that. You say your courtesans normally begin training from a young age, but here and there you must have had some who started later. Around the age of thirteen, let's say."

The words sparked a reaction the woman personally found amusing. Kobayakawa's eyes flew wide, her back snapping straight as she lifted her chin. "Y-You!" she exclaimed. "Naoko. Uchiha."

In unfeigned delight, Naoko stole another dumpling, eating less daintily as she pointed a finger at the shaking proprietress. "It's been far too long."

"Not long enough," Kobayakawa hissed, her nostrils flaring. "How dare you show your face here? Do you have any idea of what you cost me?"

Naoko smirked, motioning to the jewelry. "It looks like you had no trouble making it up. …Or I should say, your courtesans had no trouble making it up."

Kobayakawa barked a short, bitter laugh that broke the unmoved, professional façade even further. "I run a business. One that has luckily been largely successful in spite of your past deeds. I refuse to apologize for recovering."

"Recovering?" Naoko reveled in the way the selfish woman stiffened as she caressed the word. "From what? It's been so long I can't imagine what you're referring to."

"The vile girl who deceived and betrayed us, that's what." Forgoing her cup of tea, Kobayakawa reached into her robes and produced a flask. The Uchiha could have sneered over the fact that even that was pure silver. Uncapping the lid, the brothel owner took several swigs. "A poor girl lost on the city streets, in danger of being taken advantage of. Until we swept in and rescued you. You were trained, clothed, fed—"

"Sold." Naoko tossed in. Kobayakawa glowered at the interruption. "It seems my memories of back then have blessedly returned."

"You were an incredible actress right until the end," Kobayakawa spat. "Had you not turned your back on us, you could have been the wealthiest oiran this capital has ever seen. I had hopes you could even ascend to the rank of tayu."

"All dashed, I'm sure." She feigned a pout.

Clutching her flask tightly, Kobayakawa's eyes flared in outrage. "You killed the biggest investor this brothel had at the time and stole off into the night. No one could service clients in that room for a year, because they were so traumatized!"

"I wish I hadn't caused them distress." Naoko said sincerely. "But I'm sure in your case you were annoyed you lost one of the bigger suites."

"Do you know how much blood was left behind?" Kobayakawa shook her head. "Splattered all over the priceless silk? The walls? The floor? Salvaging that room was almost impossible."

The kunoichi's lips thinned at the memory; young and on her first mission far from home, a cool head had fled her and desperation kicked in.

"This is an honor." Naoko peeked up at the older girl carefully brushing out her hair. "Really. You've been with us all of three months, and already you've caught Rintaro-sama's eyes."

"Yes. I won't let you down." The dark-haired girl stared down at her hands. Of course, she had. That was her mission. And neither her father nor Lord Tajima would tolerate a failure. Rintaro Ashikaga was a wealthy lord who happened to back a number of shinobi clans the Uchiha considered dangerous foes.

He had to die.

The issue was finding a way to do it. He was known to use body doubles, and carefully guarded almost always by the ninja he supported and employed. On top of that, the man was annoyingly shrewd. But their clan's spy network had finally found an opening.

Rintaro was a bit of a ladies man. He frequented the capital's pleasure houses. One in particular. He arrived every few months pretty predictably. That was when the Uchiha would strike.

But the daimyo was expressly against shinobi clans tarnishing his city. Bringing the might of the Fire Country's ruler down on them wasn't something the Uchiha needed. So, for the sake of discretion Tajima hand-selected a girl to go in alone, posing as an orphan looking for work in the pleasure house. Naoko was that girl.

Journeying to the capital ahead of Ashikaga's next scheduled visit, she prepared. Roaming the streets and acting like a lost, wayward child wasn't hard. Ōtsu-shi was huge, ten times the size of the Uchiha's territory and like nothing she'd ever seen.

If not for her shinobi training, she would have been robbed several times in the first days alone. It wasn't until she noticed a beautiful older girl frequently in the market and learn she worked at the most popular brothel in the capital, did her luck pick up.

It wounded her Uchiha pride a bit to beg, but anything for the mission was what she had always been taught. Jundo was amused, her ego stroked enough to agree to get Naoko an audience with Madame Kobayakawa.

Showing herself to be charming and intelligent, and promising to do anything it took to earn her keep, Naoko found herself in training. Though the young kunoichi always knew it to be a mission, she gave it her all, surpassing expectations to become a star pupil. Often, she shadowed Jundo, already the shinzō to the brothel's oiran.

"You seem lost in your head. Remember to remain engaged the entire time." said girl reminded. "Men like to believe we hang on their every word."

Acting as somewhat of a guide and older sister, Jundo was the one preparing her for the evening ahead. Naoko groused silently that she wasn't even allowed to bathe herself. And when she was dried, Jundo and some kamuro descended on her to perfume her in oils.

"Men believe everything we do is for their sake…" Naoko mumbled.

"Well," Jundo pulled the comb through her hair again and began pinning off sections. "Isn't it?" she laughed, and the younger girl chuckled weakly too. "Perhaps more for the sake of their money, actually." She threw in a wink Naoko caught in the mirror.

It also showed an image of herself she barely recognized. She was robed in a silken kimono that tickled, loosely tied for Ashikaga's easy access, to her disgust. Naoko spent some time mentally preparing for how far she would allow it to go once they were alone together. She would only have one chance.

And she wondered what kind of abhorrent man would expect such things from a child, but in the end drew the conclusion that it didn't matter. Whether by Ashikaga, her father, Lord Tajima, or her future husband, men would always expect subservience from her. The belief was so strongly held by the males around her, she had even been given a name to forever mark her obedience henceforth.

Squeezing gently at the base of her neck, Jundo leaned over, breasts pressing into her back as the shinzō cooed. "After tonight, he'll be eating out of the palm of your hands forever." She pecked the Uchiha's cheek.

Unfortunately, the meeting couldn't be prolonged any further, and Naoko stood. Her palms sweated only slightly, but she steeled her nerves with the knowledge that after tonight, she would be returning home. A real kunoichi who had completed her first assassination.

Jundo was beaming as she took her hand and led her back to the suite Madame Kobayakawa had reserved for Naoko's use. The proprietress waited just outside the doors for them, her eyes filled with pride as she saw how expertly she had been made up.

Naoko kept her eyes wide and guileless, not wanting to alert anyone to her true intentions. She had already been coached after successfully enchanting Ashikaga into requesting a night with her. Highly unusual, because she wasn't a fully trained yūjo. But he insisted, the witty, beautiful girl having captured his attention completely. And it would be his downfall.

Kobayakawa placed a hand on her back, leaning down to whisper, "When it happens, shed tears. Be gentle. Submissive. Allow him to set the pace, and vocalize your pleasure."

Naoko cringed, every instinct protesting. But she nodded dutifully, and Madame stepped away. One more glance back revealed the smiles of encouragement from both Jundo and Kobayakawa. But when Naoko turned her back to them and slid the door open, she knew she was alone.

The room was lit, much more spacious than the one she shared with several other girls. It smelled fresh and fragrant, and Ashikaga himself was already sprawled back on pillows stacked on the floor. There was a low table spread with refreshments, and he was helping himself. He perked up when she entered, his lightly flushed cheeks raising in a grin. "You're a vision," he praised. "Not even this sake could make my mind hazy enough to miss your radiance."

Naoko smiled demurely behind a sleeve as she'd been taught, slipping the door shut and moving closer.

"Only for you," she responded.

"Oh?" he tilted his cup back, lips pursing around the taste of the sake. "Where did the feisty, charming girl from the last week go?"

"She's here." Naoko assured. 'More than you know.'

"Good," Ashikaga hummed, placing his sake down and motioning her over. "Because she's the one I want tonight. Come sit. There's no need to rush things, so let's chat for a while."

Naoko sat, and at his prompting served herself some sake. She took a few of the treats as well, because she was famished after having been told to diet for the day. Madame said there would be snacks in the quarters and her guests liked to woo the girls over food. Liked to watch them eat slowly and lady-like. And, they would hopefully help her keep her stamina up for the long night.

"Tell me about your day." he urged, resting his cheek in one palm. Ashikaga was a fairly attractive man, for one approaching middle-aged. He had nice lips and hazel eyes that sparkled, a beauty mark under the left one.

His chin had a sparse amount of trimmed beard and his tawny hair was tousled just-so. His build wasn't nearly as impressive as the shinobi she had seen, but he was fit, which was more than could be said for the average lord who lounged in some estate all day.

"I've been preparing to meet you," she revealed.

"Go on."

"I went with Jundo to pick up this kimono. It's my first time wearing it."

"Ah, the tailor did an excellent job, but you make the garment pretty."

"You said that the first time you saw me dressed up." Naoko said, sounding unimpressed.

"It was true then, and true now." Ashikaga chuckled. "What else did you do?"

"I played the shamisen in the gardens for the older girls. They said it relaxes them."

"You've never played for me. Why is that?" He downed more sake, though so far appeared perfectly lucid.

"Because you never asked." she shrugged.

"That was foolish of me. I shouldn't make you feel I don't appreciate your many talents." One of his hands slipped from under the table and reached toward her face. Naoko braced for it. She had known it was coming. His thumb ghosted across her jaw, moving until it ran over her lips. Every touch made her skin prickle in discomfort.

"You know, your features are truly beautiful. You were made for this line of work."

His thumb passed over her lips again and she parted them to speak. "Madame Kobayakawa says I could be a tayu someday."

"Yes," his eyes were half lidded, the sake finally taking effect. "I could see it. Men would crumble at the chance to have tea with you." She smiled coyly, pulling away to nibble her lips. Ashikaga took a sharp breath. "A natural-born minx." He whispered, "And to think you're mine for the night."

Naoko stood, slipping away from his touch gently. His pupils were pinpricks as she subtly gestured toward the large futon prepared, slowly moving in that direction. What he didn't know, what no one knew, was she had stashed a kunai in the layers. Outwardly, she fluttered her lashes. Inwardly, she had already planned for the escape route she would take when it was over. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Having second thoughts?" she goaded.

"No, I just didn't expect you to be so eager. You made me do a lot of chasing in the beginning," he rubbed a hand through his hair. "Then again, in the end you and all the others have the same goal, so I won't deny you." Naoko let him lay down first, and when he reached up she fell into his arms.

He cinched them tight around her waist and pulled her close, planting a kiss on her pulse. "Shouldn't you be more nervous? It's like you've done this before." He teased, peppering her skin with more slow pecks.

"No," she placed her hands lightly on his chest. "I've just been preparing for a while."

"That's right." he kissed her cheek. "Madame Kobayakawa told me usually you wouldn't be servicing clients for several more years, but you're advanced."

"And you're persistent." she countered.

"That too." When he reached her lips she held them shut, even as his grew firmer. His hands moved lower, then back up. "What's wrong?"

It occurred to her that she should pretend she was enjoying it more. He had to be properly distracted.

She tentatively returned his affections with a chaste kiss. "I just like making you wait."

"You've done enough of that," he huffed, beginning to loosen her clothes. Slipping one hand against her skin, he smiled triumphantly. "Like unwrapping a present."

The next series of events blurred. One minute she was in control of the situation, to a degree, and the next she was squirming away, his touch everywhere, his face hovering over hers. "You shouldn't move so much." He was getting impatient, gripping her jaw and trying to press her head down and steal a kiss.

One hand at the back of his neck, Naoko found her strength (and her kunai) scrambling to use it. He pulled back, satisfied, just as she drove the weapon into his chest.

Wide eyed, he coughed, blood gushing down onto her neck and face. Naoko drove deeper for good measure, twisting as his weak grip tried to pry her hand away. He jerked in a last burst of strength, and blood splattered the walls too.

It wasn't until he was sprawled dead underneath her that she touched her face shakily, realizing something was different. Her Sharingan had activated for the first time.

Stories in the clan said that it was impossible for an Uchiha to forget the memory that activated their doujutsu. The moment was sealed there forever, a brief flicker resurfacing every time they used their kekkei genkai. Naoko huffed, swiping some blood from her neck. If she would be haunted by this the rest of her life, then so be it. This blood and her Sharingan were the start to her rebirth.

Naoko came back to the present. To Kobayakawa's aged, sour face."He shouldn't have moved so much. And I'd say it's in the past," She had told herself that for years, then worked to make herself believe it. "So let's talk business, since that suits you better. I need information on someone."

"I won't give you anything," Kobayakawa grunted. "You're not welcome here, so get out."

Carrying on as if she hadn't heard, Naoko grinned shallowly. "You have to know the daimyo's being targeted."

"It's not my concern. One daimyo goes, another takes his place. So long as I can do business here like always…"

"I figure Goemon Ishikawa must already be around somewhere, biding his time. It'd make the most sense. And I know you keep a close ear to the streets."

"That so-called gentleman thief who robs the corrupt and gives to the poor?" Kobayakawa muttered. "It sounds like a children's tale."

Naoko blinked in boredom. "You're telling me you don't know why the daimyo's a target to begin with? I don't believe that. I know his current wife used to work here. It was a real scandal, right?"

"How would you know that? Who've you been talking to?" Kobayakawa demanded.

"I just think there may be other scandals he's hiding, wouldn't you say? Marrying a courtesan turned castle concubine isn't enough reason to want to ruin him."

"What business is it of mine? Or yours? What allegiance do the Uchiha have to the daimyo?"

"Hm…none, really. Call it a personal quest for knowledge." She curled a lock of hair around her finger, "Maybe I…sympathize."

"You didn't sympathize with Ashikaga and they were much the same type of man."

"No," Naoko laughed. "Not with the daimyo. I happen to like Ishikawa's style."

For a castle, every hall looked much the same to him. Kureno sighed heavily, scratching his scalp. Since Yurine wasn't around to fuss at him, it was probably safe to admit he had no clue where he was. It didn't help that the samurai never truly showed them around, or did anything helpful.

Toka had found them their quarters, told them they could explore without venturing too far and meet up in the evening. Eager to set out and take in the marvel of the capital, Kureno quickly agreed, but… There was no way he was going the right direction.

He felt suspicious just creeping through the halls, peeking around corners hoping to find the proper room. But, he didn't have much choice. He just hoped no one would get the wrong idea. He'd hate to have to explain to the lord of the castle, or worse…Toka. Just the vision of her stern, unimpressed face made him recoil as if already chastised.

His eyes drifted over to a painting on the wall that looked vaguely familiar. It was the Lord Azusa and two young girls, beside a different woman than the one who had been on his arm when he arrived. Ah, his first wife maybe?

Regardless, a little hope bubbled in Kureno, and a lot of relief. Now maybe he could find his way. As he jogged down the hall and stopped at the door he swore was his room, the content sigh on his lips turned into a startled squeak. Sliding it back revealed not an empty guest quarters, but the neatly decorated bedroom.

One that presumably belonged to the young woman inside of it, who was staring out the window wistfully.

She jumped a little, curling herself almost into a ball with her bare feet tucking up and under her. Rosy lips parted in a wordless exclamation, the already naturally pink hues of her cheeks deepening.

His breath hitched, taking in her extremely long, raven hair that spilled over the floor in silken coils behind her, tied at the end by a small white ribbon. Her pallid complexion made it seem like soaking in the sun didn't do her much good. The powder blue of her kimono was accented by golden-threaded flowers and secured with a matching gold obi.

They kept staring at each other from across the room, both too frozen to form words. A bird landed on a branch just outside the window and began tweeting cheerfully, temporarily capturing her attention. Kureno gulped, realizing in utter shame that he had intruded upon some poor castle resident.

"I…I…I'm sorry!" he sputtered, trying to back out of the door. "I really…thought this was my room. B-But I can see now it's not…" The shinobi bowed his head, waiting for her to yell, tell him he was a fool, anything to put him out of his misery.

She kept silent, allowing him to stew in humiliation that much longer. And for some reason, though he mentally whined at himself to vacate, Kureno couldn't help but continue babbling. "I'm new…to the capital. And I haven't really gotten a chance to memorize the layout of this big castle." The blonde rubbed at his neck. "I probably shouldn't tell you that though, makes me seem kind of incompetent…" he mumbled to himself. "Anyway, sorry for the intrusion, I'll just be goin—"

"Who are you? You shouldn't be here!" A sudden hand on his shoulder made him yelp. His feet choosing then to tangle themselves in what he could only describe as a silky material, and he went down hard, cheek slamming into the floor.

Dazed, Kureno blearily stared up at the face of a second young woman, this one with none of the soft, enchanting features of the first. This one had an intimidating blue gaze, borderline accusatory, with thick brows furthering the look. Her reddish-brown hair was cropped slightly past her ears, and the kimono she wore was no doubt expensive but much plainer. A simple navy with a purple obi.

'That's what I tripped on…' She must have been right behind him. Yet he didn't hear anything. Some shinobi he was.

Slowly, Kureno began to lift himself onto his elbows, ignoring the ache in his shoulder and side. Clenching his eyes against all the embarrassment of the last few minutes, he didn't expect the soft touch on his arm at all.

Eyes shooting open, he jerked away, only registering the somewhat spooked face of the black-haired girl after the fact. His quick movements having scared her a bit, he offered up a sheepish smile. "Sorry…" She got the drop on him too?! He was definitely slipping. Somehow, even with so much hair, she'd quietly made her approach.

"Apologize after you give us your explanation. What are you doing in my sister's private quarters?" The demanding voice asked. Throat dry, he turned to explain his (hopefully) harmless blunder.

"I was lost, so…"

Huffing, she bent down to jerk him to his knees by his collar. "Sure about that? My father hired you shinobi because you're supposed to be skilled and intuitive enough to capture Ishikawa. But I've got my doubts."

Kureno blinked, her words trickling into his mind. "Father? Your father hired us…" Gasping, he jumped to his feet, the slightly younger girl he'd encountered first scooting back and out of his way. "That means you're the princesses!"

In hindsight it was pretty obvious. Though the room was large, and uncluttered, the things placed strategically for decoration spoke of luxury a simple castle servant could never afford. And the way her eyebrows were trimmed, more circular, was common with nobility. It also explained why she had such lengthy hair. Another status symbol for wealthy women in the capital.

"Wait," she drawled. "You really weren't trying to harass my sister?" Her sharp eyes went from him to the girl still kneeling. "So this idiot didn't try anything, Tsuguko?"

Kureno's heart lurched, staring pleadingly at the silent woman. 'So her name's Tsuguko.' Expecting she would either speak up to vouch for his innocence, or offer up condemnation, it surprised him when she did neither.

With strictly ingrained grace, the princess stood, mindful of her hair and her kimono. Moving the short distance to her sister, she reached out, and without hesitation Tsuguko was offered a palm. Pulling it toward her chest, Kureno watched, bewildered, as she began tracing patterns with her finger. And the older princess waited patiently, allowing her sibling to do…whatever that was. When Tsuguko stopped, the older girl nodded solemnly. "Ok, it looks like it was just an honest mistake."

Kureno tapped the back of his hand to his forehead, exhaling in relief.

"I still can't believe my father hired such witless shinobi though."

Frowning, Kureno grumbled, "No one was interested in showing us around. I was doing the best I could."

Tsuguko looked sympathetic, which made her sister scowl. Taking her palm again, she did the same thing as before, Kureno cocking his head as he watched. Studying whatever was happening on her hand, the older princess shook her head. "No. I'll do it." she grunted.

Before he could decipher what had just passed between them, Tsuguko was dropping her sister's palm, and Kureno was being seized none too gently by the arm. Openly irritated, the auburn-haired girl tugged him from the room.

"Princesses aren't supposed to escort the help around, you know." she complained, to which Kureno withdrew his arm. Something about this blunt, outspoken princess with the sharp tongue reminded him a lot of the way Harihane would often dress down older members of her clan and prisoners alike.

"It's fine, I'll find my way back." he assured her, but she was quick to squeeze his shoulder, eliciting a wince.

"No. You can't just keep peeking in bedrooms. Not everyone will be as lenient as my sister and I were. Now let's go."

She marched ahead, shoulders back, carrying herself more like a warrior than a princess. Kureno sighed, because she was right. Chancing a glance back, he saw Tsuguko had gone to close her door, but was watching from the small slit of space still open. It could have been in his head, but Kureno thought he saw a small smile before her face disappeared behind the door. His heart skipped a beat, and he brushed it off, catching up with the other princess.

"Uh, thank you…" he rubbed at his neck awkwardly. "You're right that could have been a lot worse."

"Despite my father hiring you, and even providing you lodging here in our home, you should remember you're only a guest. And not even an honored one. Careful not to slip." The words were cold, but there was almost a hint of…earnest warning in them.

"I'll keep it in mind."

"Hm…"

They walked silently, itching to say something, to ask questions, but figuring it wouldn't be appropriate. The princess was barely tolerating him as it was.

"Seishi."

Kureno nodded absently. "Seishi, right."

"Are you even paying attention?" She stopped short, and Kureno nearly bumped her, sliding out of the way at the last minute. "It's my name."

Oh… oh! Princess Seishi and Princess Tsuguko, huh?

Seishi raised a brow, which he noticed wasn't shaped like Tsuguko's. "You're even stranger than I thought you'd be. And that's saying something."

Trying to hide his flush, Kureno cleared his throat as Seishi led the way again. Having now been introduced, he felt the need to offer his own proper introduction. "I'm Kureno Yuhi."

Seishi didn't respond, offering another small hum as turned a corridor. Kureno was amazed by how the place was somehow even deeper and more maze-like than he first assumed. He definitely would have been lost a while. Despite her disposition, he couldn't deny he was grateful. That problem sorted, his brain was occupied by the next thought. Though it wasn't really any of his business, one thought kept niggling at the back of his head.

"Hey, Seishi-hime…"

She scoffed. "Just Seishi."

"Seishi," he tried again. "Back there with Tsuguko-hime…how'd you know what she was saying? She never—"

"My sister doesn't speak." she revealed simply. "She hasn't in quite some time. But she's found ways to communicate we can understand. Does that satisfy your burning curiosity?"

Cheeks burning, he nodded quickly.

"Good. These are your quarters. Remember it, because you won't be getting guided around again." She spun on her heel and retreated before he could even offer his thanks. But with her attitude, she might rebuff it anyway.

Sliding the door open, Kureno side-stepped his raging sister, who immediately set into him about how long they'd been waiting.

Neither Toka nor Naoko looked in the mood to offer help as Yurine jerked him around by his shirt. The latter appeared amused. 'Today definitely isn't my day.'

As soon as the dagger left her hand, Sakura was spinning to snap the spear pointed in her direction away with a kick. She didn't have the liberty to watch what was happening to Tobirama when she had her hands full.

But it sounded like she'd heard him say the name Sanna. 'Izuna mentioned that name before. He said it's one of his younger brothers that died!' A growing ball of dread formed a pit deep in her stomach. She wanted to believe it was impossible, but it was hardly unfathomable after everything she'd seen and experienced.

Chancing leaving herself slightly open, Sakura blocked a slash from the twin dagger still in her attacker's hand. "Do you know Izuna Uchiha?" The two stumbled back as if struck. Even the mujina who had been helping her give them hell paused, waiting to see what would happen. Usamaro, unperturbed by the fray, scampered back over to her, having previously darted out of the way of an incoming attack.

The one with the dagger made a contemplative sound, reaching up. Sakura tensed, preparing to send him skyward if needed, but he only hooked his fingers under his mask and pulled it away.

Her heart thundered, suspicion confirmed. The boy smirking at her—a teenager himself—was undeniably an Uchiha. He wore half his hair cropped, and the rest untamed past his shoulders, perfect lips pursing and dark eyes smoldering her way. "I can tell by the way you say his name he means a lot to you." He was gone in a flash, and Sakura whirled in time to catch an arm that reached for her throat from behind. "But I think I'd rather hear you say mine, sweetheart." She growled, and the battle was back on.

The mujina dodged slashes from a spear-wielder, the remaining warrior, all while offering vicious claw swipes and snaps from their unnatural jaws. Usamaro yowled a war cry, joining them in attempting to trip the spear fighter by weaving around his feet.

Sakura dared to risk finding Tobirama, only to see he wasn't faring well, as she'd feared. He was on the defensive, and even that was half-hearted. Sanna was ripping through his lackluster kicks and punches, stopping his seals before he could finish weaving them. The enraged Uchiha was pummeling him into the ground with very little resistance.

Whatever fog the white-haired shinobi entered was still clouding his judgement. The swords lay abandoned, one wiggling slightly but not flying to aid him anymore. 'They must hone in on their user's will to fight.' Sakura ground her teeth, breaking away from the unmasked boy and diving around a wide swing of his dagger. 'And I'd bet Mizuchi's divinity that they're all holding divine weapons. Sanna said his sword's ability is called Soul Ripper…As distracted as he is, Tobirama can't afford to get hit even once."

As her mind worked out theories in an attempt to get them out of the mess they'd stumbled into, the pinkette was beginning to grow frustrated with Tobirama's refusal to so much as defend himself properly.

"You're really giving up just like that?! After everything we went through in The Under?" she shouted.

Tobirama glanced in her direction, but Sanna was quick to seize him by the hair again, bringing their faces closer. "You must not know him well. It's a sign he's more comfortable fighting literal demons than his own. The true mark of a coward." The Uchiha mused. "Koya, stop fooling around!" He tossed the black dagger back to the one who'd flirted with her, and he caught it in his free hand.

"Sorry," Koya sighed. "It's painful to think about a beautiful woman getting ripped to pieces, but my big brother's right. I'm taking it way too easy on you."

"That's alright," Sakura ducked under a blow, headbutting him only to twist a dagger out of his hand while he tried to defend himself with the other. "This isn't my best effort either."

Hissing, Koya stared at the last sibling still wearing a mask. "A little help here!"

"Busy," was the monosyllabic answer as the male fought off three mujina. Usamaro sat back and observed the chaos.

"Wanted to save my big trick until later, but…" Sakura saw Koya stretch his hand, and the dagger jerked out of hers. "You've probably figured out by now our weapons aren't ordinary, huh?"

"You're so eager to show off new toys." A familiar voice tisked. Sakura perked up, grinning openly at the elegant silhouette that appeared behind Sanna.

'It's a hell of a time for her to make an entrance but better late than never!'' she inwardly cheered.

"You again?" Sanna spat, moving away from Tobirama to guard himself. Oboro, the sword sitting idle on the ground, flew into his hands.

"Me again." Mizuchi wiggled her fingers in a mocking wave. "And as I was saying, it's obvious to me your friends need somewhere to test out their toys. Her nails gleamed in the sun as she lifted her hand. "I'm happy to oblige."

Sakura flinched as space itself ripped like cheap fabric, a very familiar, very ominous portal opening. "No!" Sanna roared over the noise, backing away.

"Yes." The goddess pouted, digging her clawed fingers into his clothes and flinging him through the rip.

"Sanna!" The boy that had hardly spoken suddenly cried out. Catching on, Sakura seized on their momentary distraction, gathering up enough chakra to make her fist glow and ramming it into Koya. His body snapped unnaturally as he whirred through the air like a projectile, tumbling into the pulsating distortion.

Turning to the stunned, final enemy and cracking her knuckles, Sakura sneered. "What's it going to be?"

He stared her down, gaze no doubt deadly beneath the porcelain obscuring his face. "It's not over." He declared, speeding past her with his spear and completely ignoring everyone to leap into The Under willingly.

Mizuchi sealed it instantly, clapping her hands lightly. "All in a day's work."

Adrenaline still pumping, Sakura approached the deity on wobbly legs, her cat and the mujina not far behind. Tobirama was deep in thought, not even remarking on Mizuchi's timely appearance.

"Even when your objective is so simple you find trouble." The heavenly being remarked as Sakura collapsed to her knees, spent. "I think that in itself is a remarkable talent."

"I can't take the snark right now." Sakura panted, pushing hair behind her ear, only for it to fall again. Usamaro wandered over to try and rub at her neck in comfort, causing a whine from Ubagabi. "What's going on now?"

"More godslayers have joined the struggle for power."

"We can see that!" Sakura whispered fiercely. She got to her feet. "But why are they…they were supposed to be—"

"Dead." Tobirama finished. "Sanna, Koya and Kamin. All of them died years ago." Sakura's eyes widened, not only because of his words, but the state of him. He was bruised, several cuts to his face and neck. And if the way his arm hung was any indication, he'd also suffered a dislocated shoulder.

Yet she knew if he had wanted to, Sanna could have done much worse. Instead he focused on exploiting Tobirama's weakened psychological state to draw out the confrontation and bat him around.

What she'd witnessed when he faced Sanna was nothing like the determined, fierce fight he had with Orochi. Something about the appearance of the three Uchiha rattled him to his core.

"Reviving the dead is not something just any deity is capable of. It's outside the power of most, and those who can manage it try their best not to cross boundaries. Everyone respects Yama's role. I would surmise Kanayago is working in leagues with someone. A shinigami perhaps." Sakura felt her headache worsening. The last thing she wanted to hear was there was a resident of the underworld tied into this.

"Doesn't make much sense to me." Tsubute sat down on his fluffy rump and scratched behind one ear with his foot. "Don't you gods always pick from the living?"

Usamaro pawed gently at her foot, wanting attention, and Sakura picked him up absently. Apparently having missed her, or simply sensing her stress, he licked at her cheek, his whiskers tickling.

Ubagabi stood on his hind-legs and whimpered. "Hey, that's unfair." Although the pinkette smiled consolingly down at him, she focused attentively on what the goddess's response would be.

"Usually." Mizuchi conceded, unusually quiet. "Funny…for all the hatred toward Kaguya's line, the other deities do recognize the worthiness of that blood…selecting a godslayer can be an arduous process. Not all humans are suitable. But even if Kaguya's power was a mere imitation and the abilities she passed down, leagues below what true gods are capable of, they are exceptional among humans. They make good vessels."

"There are clans full of living people to pick from that could be godslayers then!" Sakura stared at Tobirama, who was still mentally distant. "Why go through the trouble of bringing some back to life?"

"That is something I imagine only Kanayago and her shinigami accomplice could answer. And make no mistake, they will return for a final conflict. Sanna, was it? He seems quite adapt at navigating The Under. I suspect at most that diversion will hold them for a day on earth. You must have a weapon forged in that time to contend."

"I was trying to when they interrupted." Sakura huffed.

Mizuchi shook her head. "Time runs out. No more excuses."

Saying nothing, the kunoichi turned away, eyes trained on the boulder she was tasked with splitting. That was well within her capabilities. But to do so using nothing but a fingertip of concentrated musubi? Sakura had been trying and failing all morning, far too distracted.

"Finish quickly and find me at Hitotsu's forge." The goddess instructed, leaving Sakura behind with a handful of a mujina, her needy cat, and the stolid Tobirama.

Despite what the deity claimed, Tobirama felt it unwise for them to remain in the open, not leaving the spot where they had been ambushed already. Haruno seemed oddly more agreeable, not offering any objections when he told her to move her training to the forests of Choshu.

If anything the kunoichi appeared curious as to why he was still coming along, but she didn't ask about that either, and he felt a lick of gratitude at her ability to read a situation. 'She's now able to read you, too.' he told himself.

Usually, the notion would leave him defensive and with the sense of violation. It spoke to how much the short amount of time they were in the valley had begun to change his perception that the Senju simply accepted it as fact and moved on.

What he hadn't quite gotten used to was how Haruno was more open about scolding him over his well-being. She fussed over his bumps and bruises, and especially the dislocated shoulder, despite knowing he was capable of tending to himself.

For reasons he'd rather not dwell on, Tobirama still allowed her to pop his arm back into the joint, his cheek twitching once in discomfort. He stopped her when she tried to examine the cuts though, declaring he would heal any in danger of infection himself, to avoid her continuing to poke and prod.

The pink-haired girl finally stepped away as he healed the scrapes that she deemed concerning, huffy but satisfied.

They trekked to the neighboring village with the accompaniment of several of the mujina, and Haruno's plucky cat. She chatted with the furry monstrosities at her feet, who explained they were elated to be out, back in the surface world.

Haruno asked them sweetly about where they were living, and they eagerly said they had found abandoned territory nearby to occupy. Tobirama would bet it wasn't so much abandoned as it was the neutral strip of territory between the beavers and the otters that the beavers had once taken over. Which meant they'd ended their occupancy. He said nothing, filing the information away for later.

"You don't need some fancy weapon, you know." Ubagabi grumbled. It was mildly irritating for the shinobi to realize that even with the proper body back, the knowledge of their names collected in Haruno's brain was imprinted into his now. "We could transform and be your weapons. Whatever you want."

Haruno giggled, oblivious to the way the mujina was glaring at the cat she was carrying in her arms. Tobirama thought the feline's mismatched eyes held a smug gleam. "Thanks, but I'm not sure any weapon would be able to take out a deity other than a divine one."

"Still a thought." the creature sighed, fluffy tail dragging the ground dejectedly.

"Those three meant business." Tsubute acknowledged. "Of course it'd be better for Sakura to have a real divine weapon. We got no business sticking our necks out like that at this point."

"You don't mean that, Tsubute," Mio pointed out. "We'll always be grateful to Sakura. She set us free!" Any traces of self-consciousness in her abilities appeared to have faded since she left The Under. "And we'll always come if you need us. Tsubute too."

"Don't," he growled, tone noticeably lacking venom. "Make plans for me. I make the plans."

They laughed at Tsubute's puffed fur and angry nose twitch, and he proceeded to ignore them. Talk turned to other things, like what they could and should do now being set free. "I kinda like the forest here. Everything is so clean, fresh, open." Iori mused.

"Ripe for our taking." Komugi crowed.

"Hey!" Haruno let Usamaro go, placing her hand on her hip and lifting a finger. "We should've gone over it before, but you can't go wreaking havoc whenever you want here."

Several of their mouths popped open, revealing the disgusting, too-large jaws full of teeth. "But…"

"You're naturally inclined to mischief." Haruno continued. "I understand it's who you are. But look around you and tell me if you really think this is the kind of place that would stay this quiet and beautiful if you did what you were doing thousands of years ago."

Tobirama observed how they dropped their heads with a note of surprise. Haruno really had a hold on them if she was able to appeal to their dwindling better natures.

"We'll behave," Mio promised.

"Can't say we'll never find trouble, but," Ubagabi grinned, evidently in a better mood since Usamaro had stopped getting carried. "We'll be sure we don't ever bother anyone here who doesn't deserve it."

A dubious agreement, because the mujina had shown their sense of morality to be sketchy outside of aiding themselves and sticking with Haruno. She side-eyed them, and they stared back innocently.

"We'll come back to this." she warned.

"What I really wanna know is what happened back there with that Sanna guy." Tsubute piped up. "Why'd he toss you around like that?"

Tobirama tensed, having been fine to just walk and allow his presence to be forgotten.

All the other round eyes looked his way at their leader's question. Haruno peered his way, too, but there was evidence of something besides curiosity or disgust in the depths of her green gaze.

One of his hands slid absently to the blade strapped behind him, its weight pressing lightly at his lower back. The other rested on his hip. When he saw Sanna's cold features and memories came back, it was hard to find the will to use either one. "It won't happen again." he said, voice flat.

"That's it?" Iori prodded. "You killed Orochi, one of the most terrifying beings in The Under, but against that godslayer, you—"

"It won't," he ground his teeth, tone sharpening, "happen again."

Haruno's eyes flickered between him and them. Then she paused, crouching down next to a curious Ubagabi and pulling him into her arms. The mujina squeaked, vibrating in excitement as she began whispering in his ear. Moving away, she smiled down at him. "Got it?"

The mujina couldn't nod fast enough. He tackled Tsubute ruthlessly, nipping at his ears and headbutting him playfully. "If I beat you to the border, I'm the new leader." he declared.

Tsubute kicked him away with a snarl. "You think I'd give up my position to a lunk-head like you?!" He snapped his powerful jaws and Ubagabi danced away with a giggle.

"You won't have a choice~" he goaded, dashing away at high speed.

The other mujina were already amused and invested in the game, laughing as they sped after him with an enraged Tsubute in the rear. Their furry hides were far ahead on the path in no time.

Only Haruno's cat stayed as she stood back up and dusted her hands, eyes sympathetic. "I thought you could use a break from that." Raising a hand to her brow, she squinted after them. "I'm honestly not even sure if they know where they're going."

Again. Haruno had acted in thoughtfulness on his behalf yet again. After months of hardly tolerating each other, this new shift in dynamic was all at once strange but natural.

She obviously didn't take offense to his prickly demeanor anymore, and he had a hard time mustering up the level of wariness he once carried in abundance for her. Spending time in her body, and then the process of switching back, felt as though they had brushed souls. No one, not even his family, had ever seen him that vulnerable on an intimate, spiritual level.

He'd rather not have to, but as she was perhaps the only person who might extend understanding in this moment, he felt exposing himself just a little more was a necessity. "You can say it." he grunted.

Haruno focused her attention on his face, hers predictably open and bewildered. "Mind being more specific?"

"I wasn't exactly useful during that encounter."

Haruno found her cat, happy to brush at her ankles and as starved for attention as the mujina. "I know, but…someone doesn't just come back from the dead. Well," she contemplated. "Not by conventional means."

Tobirama chose not to ask what that cryptic comment meant. Haruno still had a well of mysteries he hadn't uncovered. The thought once made him regard her as too unhinged and dangerous, but Sanna resurfacing reminded him he was much the same. "I did it."

"Huh?"

"I reacted that way because I'm the one who killed him all those years ago."

Haruno nodded slowly. "Because of all the ongoing wars." she guessed. "You didn't—"

"No," he rasped, as if his voice was fighting to remain inside. "It wasn't a battlefield. He wasn't even a threat at the time, but…I'd lost so much to the Uchiha."

"So it was revenge?" He could tell Haruno was trying her best to reason it all out, but the furrow of her eyebrows said the pieces weren't quite connecting.

Tobirama's vision blurred, reforming to show the forest on that day with clarity. "It was just because he was there."

The young Senju glowered down at his reflection. Cold red eyes, snowy hair and skin as pale as their sworn enemies. Dragging his palms through the water, he splashed his face, mind racing. After it was all out in the open, Hashirama came clean.

He met and befriended an Uchiha his age, had been meeting with him for over a month. Not just any Uchiha, the oldest son of the clan leader. The heir. Madara. Tobirama already hated him. His nails scraped at the skin of his neck as he attempted to wash the flecks of dried blood marring his complexion.

His armor and sword lay near him on the bank. He could go home and clean himself. He could sit through a dinner charged with barely restrained animosity. But the forest…the Senju were children of the forest.

Clan stories passed down said when their Mokuton-possessing ancestors died, the forest called them home. Tobirama didn't have the Mokuton, and he suspected he never would. But he appreciated the serenity here, and the way it could sometimes calm him.

Their father was furious. Their mother was…well, as usual hard to read. But Butsuma wanted to teach them a lesson. They did not need friends. They could not make friends with children outside the clan. So he took them on a raid. One against a smaller clan whose resources had been dwindling for a while.

Tobirama was smart enough to understand they, like many of the smaller shinobi families with less territory and assets, faced extinction soon. Because of their shortage of able-bodied adult ninja, a considerable section of their remaining fighters were under-experienced or children. Child soldiers just like him.

Their father claimed that several of their members had been caught trying to sneak onto Senju territory to pilfer grain, eggs, and at times luxuries like honey. Tobirama didn't care. They were acting in desperation and the Senju were a big clan fortunate enough to have more than they needed. What they ran out of or couldn't make, they traded for.

But adults were petty, and no one ever asked the opinions of children.

The attack was launched at dawn. Even seeing their settlement and the disrepair of so many houses was pitiful. It didn't feel right. His father gave the word and the pack of fifteen adult Senju hurtled themselves down on the people who barely had time to grab up their own weapons and prepare. He and his brothers hung back. Their father turned on them with dark eyes holding darker promises for disobedience. "Go!"

The three of them listened, but he suspected that each of them felt something flake off and die inside. Tobirama wasn't sure how many members of the enemy clan there were. But definitely less than a hundred. Maybe less than ninety or eighty. Everywhere his eyes spun he saw underfed, thin bodies toppling to the ground. Children with haunted, tearful eyes cut down so easily by healthy grown men and women ten times stronger.

Itama was darting around, trying to simultaneously avoid getting in the way without actually engaging anybody. But his little brother had to know that couldn't last. Someone was going to confront him, and he would have to kill or be killed. Hashirama was locked in combat with a woman with a crazed look to her face. Whatever someone became when desperation morphed into its final stages.

Tobirama whirled, his sword clanging loudly with another, knocking it back. The boy was his age, unsurprisingly, and he appeared just a little surprised. But then they were dueling in earnest. Tobirama had to admit, with some more weight to him and a little better training, his enemy would be very impressive. He was already holding his own quite well, all things considered.

It had to come to an end though, as all battles did. The boy gasped as he lost ground, his weak arms straining as Tobirama kept up the onslaught. Understanding was starting to dawn in his eyes. The Senju could see the exact moment when he realized it was already over. He struck, aiming to make it quick, and with a clean strike to the heart the boy slid from the blade, mumbling his final words. After that, Tobirama killed four more—all children—before he looked around and saw the battle was done. Butsuma was standing over a woman and man he assumed to be the clan heads. Their words were fervent and pleading but they fell on deaf ears. They died hand in hand, their bodies thumping as they fell one on top of the other.

He and Itama stood close to Hashirama on the march home. Their father's fury had calmed, message delivered, but his older brother's anguish was so volatile everyone else was giving him a wide berth.

If Tobirama was being truthful his stomach was in knots, not just from the events of the day, but because of Hashirama's chakra. He endured it, though, grabbing for the tanned wrist every time it jerked.

Now, by himself, his thoughts tightening his throat and twisting at his heart, Tobirama felt it all.

Rage. Rage at adults for never listening. Rage at himself for always following. Rage at Hashirama for provoking their father into teaching them this lesson. Rage at the whole, rotten world who plunged innocent children into this from the moment they were born.

He kept scrubbing, but it was no longer really about getting the blood and dirt off, angry welts left in the wake of his fingers.

And Tobirama felt guilt. Guilt over every time he'd swung his sword or used a jutsu and someone had died. Guilt that they wanted to live just as much as he did, that they might have had siblings they wanted to protect just like he did. Guilt that sometimes he didn't know their names, and in the heat of battle he didn't care because it had to be them. It had to be them or else it was going to be him.

Stupid. He felt stupid. The clan praised him as a tactician. Last year, his mother and father had started bringing him to strategy meetings, because he had overheard a conversation between two seasoned Senju generals and pointed out a flaw in one of their elaborate plans.

Now he was required to be at all of them; adults slid maps in front of his nose and told him to give them his thoughts. He guessed that meant he had use, besides just as a sensor-type. He was smart.

Everyone was all to fine forgetting. At the end of the day, he was a nine-year old. And tired. And stupid for not being able to figure out a better way to live than being used.

Hashirama talked about them going off one day and starting a place where they'd be safe from wars. He had said it more than once. He told them Madara felt the same way. Who cared what lies an Uchiha told to get close to his brother? There was also nothing that said any of them would live that long.

Kawarama hadn't. Kawarama, who had proudly bragged to them about the tooth he'd lost, and caught minnows in this very river with Itama. Kawarama, who died with his guts in his hands, whimpering and terrified.

The mangled body the unit of shinobi brought back after a successful skirmish against the Uchiha with "minimal casualties" was not how he wanted to remember his little brother. He refused.

Tobirama couldn't believe Hashirama had a friend from the same clan that took him away from them. Even after Kawa's death, Hashirama kept seeing Madara. He told them he couldn't hold his friend accountable for their brother's demise. He told them when he broke down, the Uchiha had consoled him, and understood his pain.

The Uchiha were capable of love. He had seen it. But Tobirama couldn't help but be bitter anyway. At them, and at Hashirama. Butsuma did what he had today because of Hashirama's foolish actions.

His nails pierced the skin of his palm, and he shook his head. No, their father was going to wipe that clan out no matter what. Teaching his children by having them participate was just an excuse.

The sun was sinking. Dinner would be over soon, if it wasn't already. Tobirama stood, going to collect his belongings. Hashirama had probably had it out with their father again. If their mother saw, she would intervene, passively but effectively cooling everyone's tempers. But if she wasn't…

His back had just healed up from the last time, and his brother would hate it, but he had gotten used to taking punishment on his behalf. He was as much punishing himself as he was shielding his siblings.

Tobirama had the sword at his side again, the coolness of it familiar and grounding. It knew his every sin. He bent for the armor, then snapped back up at the waist, reaching for the hilt of the blade instead. "You really think that's smart?" His chakra flared, catching instantly on the intruder behind him. "…Uchiha?"

He didn't know this exact Uchiha, precisely, but he had memorized the general feel of their clan. With some training and practice, the white-haired boy figured out he could catalogue the faint similarities inherent in those with familial ties and deduce their heritage that way before he even set eyes on them.

Turning around slowly, he saw with a little pride that he was right. It was a pale boy with deep brown hair, blinking nervously at him. The high-collared shirt was as much a giveaway as his physical features. "How did you…?" he whispered, then nodded in acceptance. "Are you Tobirama?"

Tobirama narrowed his eyes, advancing with sword gripped tight in his hands. "I should be the one asking questions. This is Senju territory. You don't belong here, and if you think you're going to spy, you shouldn't have been so sloppy."

Strangely, the Uchiha played with the hem of his shirt, "I didn't come as a spy. My big brother told us about a boy from the Senju clan that wants peace just like he does. He said they would meet at the river sometimes."

"Your brother?" It clicked, and Tobirama felt disgust vibrate through him. "Madara."

The Uchiha nodded at the name. "I'm Sanna."

"Get out of here." Tobirama warned, the cooling embers of his anger stoking up again. "I won't tell you again."

"Wait," Sanna held up both hands. "I didn't even come with weapons. Because I don't want to fight. I thought if there's a Senju Madara admires and calls a friend then…" he bit at his lips until they were pink. "Then maybe they're not really all our enemies."

"Uchiha killed my little brother." Tobirama told him. "They are all my enemies."

He lunged, and Sanna stumbled into the shallow end of the river. The dark-haired boy cried out as the sword got him in the arm, managing to roll away and get back on his feet before Tobirama could bring it down again. "I'm sorry about your brother!" he panted. "I just wanted to meet Madara's friend and—"

"So you can tell my brother more lies?" Tobirama was seeing red. "So you can take him away from me too?"

Sanna's face was pale, eyes wide in fear. The Senju vaguely mused that his face must have been twisted with so much wrath. "No, because I want—"

Tobirama let go of his sword and grabbed for the Uchiha with both hands, seizing him by the throat. "Stop it. Stop lying!" His grip slammed the younger boy hard into the sharp rocks in the shallows.

Sanna wailed, his arms reaching up to find purchase on the hands holding him captive as Tobirama did it again. The second time they heard something sickening crunch, and the younger boy went limp. Tobirama, breathing hard, felt his head starting to clear.

He wanted someone to pay for the way he felt, but, the whole time he'd been attacking, this Uchiha didn't fight back. Pulling away, pulse racing, he stared down at the crumpled boy whose eyes were beaded with tears.

"H-Help…" he whispered. "I can't feel anything."

The crunch. Tobirama kneeled carefully, confirming with a brief diagnostic what he already knew. The hits had caused a bad fracture. The numbness he was complaining of was more than likely to be paralysis. And the blood in the water and on the rocks wasn't a good sign either.

In that moment, the features morphed, and he saw Kawarama under him and reaching out for help. He took the hand without hesitation, but the body under him was Sanna's, and his eyes had become the bright crimson of the famed doujutsu. "I'm scared. I want…my family." This boy… was around Kawarama's age.

Tobirama reached a shaking hand out, trying to see if there was anything he could possibly heal. He couldn't save Kawarama, but he could maybe fix this. He could.

Sanna's sharp cries of pain started before he even touched the boy's wound, and Tobirama stumbled back. The crying was so pathetic, snot bubbling at his nose. It started out boisterous, like a baby with healthy lungs coming into the world. Then it weakened gradually, lessening into miniscule moans and hiccups before the Sharingan faded away to dull brown. Lifeless brown.

Tobirama's jutsu deactivated, the hand that had held Sanna's sliding out from under the flaccid palm. Had he been the one struck by paralysis? Why else would he watch as the boy took his final breaths in front of him like that?

Tobirama remained with the corpse until nightfall. Carefully, he gathered it onto his back and crept to the edge of the Uchiha territory. Undetected, he delivered Sanna back home, and stole off into the night.

Haruno never interrupted once. Not so much as a gasp. "There are many battles where killing enemies filled me with regret afterwards." he concluded. "But Sanna was the only time I killed someone outside of battle."

"So," she took a deep breath. "That's why he hates you so much. That's why you didn't really fight back."

"Yes." His shoulders sagged. "He never fought back when I…" Something had…loosened. A little relief, maybe?

The pinkette beside him was thinking deeply. "I bet his clan doesn't know he's revived, either."

Tobirama shook his head, having concluded as much as well. Izuna and Madara would never get over losing their brother at his hands if they knew. It was hardly unreasonable. If either of them were personally responsible for the deaths of Itama or Kawarama, he would never stop until he paid it in full.

Killing Sanna felt like he had killed Kawarama himself. They were practically the same age, both victims of senseless bloodshed. Killing Sanna had further solidified the idea that Uchiha had just as much right to their humanity as he and the other Senju did.

They weren't just enemies, not just shinobi, they were truly as human and capable of pain as he was. It was a truth he'd spent many long years running from after that, or he'd never have been able to take down another Uchiha.

Hashirama knew he had killed Uchiha, and had been forced to kill some as well. But not even he knew that he was the murderer of his best friend's younger brother.

"Would you do it again?" she asked.

Glaring, he met her eyes dead-on. "Is that all you have to say?"

"Answer the question." she insisted, gently.

Tobirama schooled his emotions into nonexistence. Although it was probably too late after everything she'd seen, "No." She didn't need to ask. He had wanted to go back and undo that since the moment the light left Sanna's eyes.

Haruno looked pleased, like she'd expected that answer. "Then haven't you already changed?"

"I...if I had, I would have at least taken responsibility for it back then. The Uchiha struck back in retaliation for that. Other Senju died when it could have just been me."

Haruno frowned, standing directly in his way so that they almost bumped chests. "If the Senju and Uchiha were at constant war it would have happened regardless of that." Her eyes softening, she sighed. "What alternative do you have at this point?"

"…"

"If he wanted to believe in peace once, maybe there's still a way to reach him." He had to envy her idealism, which reminded him so strongly of Hashirama's in this moment. "But how could you know if you're already planning to give up on yourself?" Tobirama found it hard to maintain eye contact, knowing she was right.

"Haruno…" She tilted her head, waiting. "Has anyone ever told you how meddlesome you are?"

"On occasion," she smiled. "But I know I'm right. You're not ready to let it end like this because of a childhood mistake."

Sensing she wouldn't drop it, he decided to at least humor this. "So then what do you suggest?"

"We regroup." she said simply. "There's three of them and they've all got divine weapons. I have to secure one myself, first and foremost. And you have to mentally prepare. We've got a day at most so let's get on with this."

In the past, he might have had reason to decline, but any such reasons had since gone away. Haruno had proven herself trustworthy and determined. An ally willing to risk her life for him. Like they were old comrades.

"Your confidence is inspiring, but the final showdown is the true test." They had traveled far enough that Choshu was within sight.

"That's why I think we might need some help, and I know where to start." She sprinted toward where the mujina stood around arguing, some idea no doubt already taking shape.

The otters were happy to see them again, luckily. Explaining where they had been the last several days was the easy part, as it turned out. Trying to get them to accept the mujina proved more difficult.

But, only because the yokai were boisterous and had no concept of boundaries. They eyed up the otter's land like they were thinking of moving in. Sakura nudged Tsubute none too gently with her foot for offhandedly remarking about how they looked like they had more than they needed already.

"You've been through quite the ordeal." Chuya said, ignoring the unsubtle way the mujina made eyes at the huge string of pearls she wore. "If you'd like, we can finish the discussion in the safety of The Couch."

"Again, we let these humans into our sacred home when they have even more suspicious creatures with them?" Noburu complained, as vigilant as ever.

"They have not betrayed our trust so far." Enmei countered.

"We shouldn't continue giving them an audience until they do! I only want what's best for the raft." His dark brown body bristled as Ubagabi poked at his sheathed sword, receiving a smack.

The curious mujina growled lightly, backing away.

"We'll make sure they're on their best behavior." Sakura promised, shooting the mujina a warning look.

The otters were just as gracious as before, and Sakura just as fascinated by everything she saw in their home. The glimmering walls, the treasure trove of pearls, the playful pups and the adult otters who constructed weapons and armor. This time, however, she had to keep one eye on the mujina at all times to make sure they didn't get "lost" anywhere they shouldn't be. Watching them interact with the riverside animals was amusing though, if nothing else.

Tsubute had been swarmed by a group of young pups, and was uncharacteristically flustered by the way they hung on his every word as he told them about his acts of heroism. Ubagabi easily fell into playing with other pups, showing them tricks like how many oyster shells he could juggle and the way he transformed into anything they called out.

Of course, there was one pup who wasn't interested in playing with anyone. No one but Tobirama, that was. As soon as the same orphaned cub from before laid eyes on him, she scrambled over, darting excited circles around his feet and squeaking urgently.

Without a word Tobirama crouched down to her level, and when she had worn herself out she tried crawling into his lap. Something she only managed with his assistance. The little chuffing noises she made nuzzling his chest were cute, and Tobirama didn't seem to hate the attention.

Seeing everyone was preoccupied or behaving themselves well enough, Sakura followed a small group preparing to fish in the underground river. They were lively and welcoming, interested in hearing about her time in The Under, and talking about what the clan had been up to while they were gone.

"The beavers haven't bothered you in two days?" Sakura wondered why. The agreement had been they would help the otters drive the beavers off in exchange for clues about what was happening in the valley. But that was before the grand reveal of "Cat's" identity and true motives, or the involvement of the goddess of iron.

If she had to venture a guess, it was Kanayago's doing that gave the beavers a divine weapon. Though now that she knew more about the process, Sakura wondered how an animal, and one who wasn't a proper godslayer at that, could handle the power.

A tawny otter with light brown eyes slipped into the water, dipping under the surface. Another, entirely black save for a blotchy white star on his chest, nodded. "Old Hisoki didn't look like himself the last time we fought. It was a day or two after you disappeared."

Sakura's heart sank with guilt that they had seemingly abandoned their new animal allies, but the semiaquatic mammals didn't appear to be holding a grudge.

The submerged otter resurfaced with a fat fish in her mouth. She climbed onto shore and set it down. "He looked like he was in pain, especially when he tried to use that sword."

'Because if it's a divine weapon and there's no musubi, which I'm guessing is the case, then continuous use has to be draining something else…like life-force.' Sakura couldn't deny if that was true, then she felt some pity for the beaver.

He probably wasn't even aware he'd been tricked and used, just a means for a diversion while Sanna and the others went between the territories hunting for Ippon-Datara.

Usamaro had crept up beside her to ask for attention, and Sakura rubbed her loyal pet behind the ears a few times, earning deep purrs. He got distracted the minute another fish was thrown on the ground near them, his eyes growing as big as saucers.

"I should go see Chuya." Sakura announced, watching the otters slowly accumulating more fish. Usamaro continued to stand by and salivate over the haul, but when he craned his head to lick at one, he was swatted over the nose by a webbed paw.

"She should be preparing dinner. We'll be there soon to bring her these. You remember the way?"

"Actually, I do." Scooping up the cat so he didn't impede the process, Sakura left them to finish their task.

As she passed through caverns, admiring the rippling colors of the walls and the adorable otters scurrying around, Usamaro had stopped squirming, appreciating being held. Chuya was easy to spot, standing in the same room she had been the last time they visited, holding the giant pot again.

"Sakura," she looked up and smiled. "You came by to see me." She really liked the large, silver otter, whose congenial nature reminded her of Katsuyu.

The kunoichi put down her cat, and he found a comfortable place to curl up, yawning. "Is that okay?"

"Perfectly fine!" she chirped. "As soon as they bring in the fish I can add them to the stew." Turning around, Chuya grabbed a mound of leafy greens and put them into the bubbling broth. "It's the best way to celebrate you returning safely from that place…The Under, was it?"

"Right. You've never heard of it, huh?" Sakura rested her head in her palms as she sat and watched.

"Well," Chuya grabbed some fresh-water shrimp and tossed those in as well. "When I was just a pup, my father told stories. According to him, there were spots in the valley none of us should ever go near. They felt…off. And he once saw a friend of his fall through a glowing hole. No one ever saw him again after that."

Sakura sat up a little. "Those must've been the veins to The Under."

"From what you explained that sounds likely. If those other humans who've been all the problems are going to escape soon, what do you plan to do? Is there any way we could help?"

Before the pinkette could respond, otters came in heaving baskets full of fresh catches. "We brought the fish, Lady Chuya!"

Giddy, the largest otter clapped. "Good! You can set them down over there." she pointed.

They did as asked, and the silver-furred leader picked one basket up and brought it closer to her pot. "Let's get these cleaned," she murmured, humming as she set to work. Using a sizable shell, she chopped the fish's head off, then began taking the scales from its flesh.

Her nimble, neat work was almost relaxing, and a lazy idea floated through Sakura's brain. 'I wish I could use musubi as efficiently as she uses that shell.' She'd of course mastered chakra control years before setting foot in the past. But maybe that was the problem.

Trying to approach the precise and measured control of divine essence the same way she would chakra hadn't gotten her far. 'I just figured less would be more. But musubi is so chaotic by nature…shoving it out for attacks works just fine because that's always what it feels like it wants.'

Sakura listened to the sounds of Chuya's rhythmic cutting. 'Wait, when I controlled the Dragon State transformation it was about finding a balance so the power could come blasting out without it backfiring. Control might mean giving it everything I've got and then…'

"Chuya?" The otter paused at the sound of her name, nose twitching curiously. It was tough, but Sakura momentarily withheld her gushing to press on with her question.

"Do you think I could try cutting one?"

"Oh!" The otter blinked. "I mean, you're a guest. But sure, I won't say no if you don't mind getting your hands dirty."

That was all it took for the pink-haired girl to shoot out of her seat and run over. She had to climb onto the raised table Chuya was using, which was as tall as some buildings in Konoha.

Grabbing up a fish in both arms, Sakura smacked it down on the surface and closed her eyes. The force buried deep inside flared to life, but she concentrated it all to two fingers, imagining a taut string snapping back right before it unraveled too far. She watched her own hand in wonder as two fingers shifted into talons, the rest of her arm as pale and human as ever.

"Haah!" The fish's head popped off easily, and Sakura separated scales from meat with excitement starting to thrum inside her chest.

"Oh my…I can't ever say I've seen it done like that before."

Flushing, the kunoichi turned wide eyes to the otter who had been watching the whole time.

"Sorry," she let her fingers return to normal. "I think I just had a breakthrough."

Chuya still insisted they all stay for a meal. And how could they refuse when the otters had gone all out for their sake? Tobirama gave her a strange stare from across the table that probably had something to do with the way she nearly choked on the food she was shoveling down. Sakura couldn't be bothered to mind her manners when the animals didn't seem to care and she felt like he was so close to finally having what she needed.

They collected Usamaro and the mujina, saying their goodbyes with the promise that if the beavers resurfaced they would definitely help. Extracting Arisu from Tobirama's shoulders was as difficult as it was heartbreaking. She squealed and squirmed, having to be taken away by an adult otter and scrambling to get back to him the entire time.

The journey to Tenryu was mostly uneventful, Sakura rambling about various theories of what would happen next and Tobirama making quiet input when he felt it was necessary. The mujina decided to wait in their new territory, not wanting to distract her too much during the next trial. Although she didn't want to voice it, the pinkette thought that was best anyway. Ippon Datara barely tolerated visitors to his forge anyhow.

She tried to be polite and knock, the door creaking open like it had been left unlocked. Peering inside, Tobirama staring in over her shoulder, she saw the blacksmithing god tinkering around. Smiling a little Sakura stepped in and the Senju shut the door behind them. Mizuchi was also present, seemingly annoying her fellow deity just by virtue of the fact that she was occupying his private space.

"My godslayer returns. Triumphant, no doubt." Mizuchi was never one to hold back on gloating, and now was no different. Sliding from the work table she sat on, the goddess moved to Sakura as if she was going to offer her an embrace.

"Hold on. We need to see her complete the third trial before you get too sure of yourself." Ippon Datara picked up one of the big chunks of iron she brought from The Under with surprising strength. "Mind cutting this?"

Mizuchi beamed, Usamaro trilled as he explored the forge, and when Sakura turned around, she found Tobirama standing right there. Silent but somehow reassuring. He nodded, and she stepped toward the blacksmith to accept the deposit. Placing it on the table for everyone to see, Sakura sized it up, beginning to channel the musubi. Tuning out everyone and everything, she dragged her clawed digit across the iron. It sliced like a thin sheet of paper. A disbelieving laugh bubbled up from her throat as she stepped back, waiting on the god's appraisal.

Ippon Datara snatched a small piece of the iron from the table and rolled it around in his palm. Lifting his head, he laid his heavy stare on her. "You have proven you have both the control and mettle to cut The Under's iron with a single touch. The Third Rite is complete." he said.

"Then I get to move onto the last one?"

"That's correct," Mizuchi nudged her forward just a little more, until she was standing in front of the forge. "I expect a strong finish."

Baffled, Sakura stared at the empty cold forge then back. "W-What? I thought I couldn't get a divine weapon until I finished all the Rites."

Ippon Datara scoffed. "Forging a divine weapon is the final rite." Rubbing a hand over his helmet, he added, "And it's the deadliest. Most godslayers come this far just to be found unworthy in the end."

Sakura gulped.

"If you thought The Under nearly ended you, then be advised this is going to be even harder on you."

"Haruno…" Tobirama's voice from the corner snapped her out of it, and she gifted him with a reassuring grin.

"I've got this." Heart thumping, she directed her attention to the divine pair. "How am I involved in the forging process?"

His helmet prevented the entirety of his expression from being seen, but Sakura had a sneaking suspicion he was furrowing his brow at her by the way his visible eye narrowed. "A divine weapon isn't just celestial because it's forged by a god. It pulls some of its user's divine essence during its creation. Not too little, and not too much. We deities do prefer balance in all things."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "I've heard that before."

"That being said, Sakura," Mizuchi stepped up to wrap a hand around her shoulder. "You should be aware that my musubi is now linked to your life force as much as your own chakra. Having too much extracted will kill you. But a deity's divine essence is almost infinite. This step is far less harmful for actual divine beings to undergo."

The pinkette gaped, her brain soaking everything in, and wondering why she hadn't been told sooner. Then again, she'd never had a choice in becoming a godslayer, so considering the risks wouldn't have mattered much. "I granted you as much as a human vessel can handle when we met. Which is typically no more than the amount that can be cupped between one's palms."

"I've only got one chance at this," Sakura clenched her fist, taking a deep breath to ground herself. "And there's not much choice."

A solemn air descended over the room, Tobirama's expression unreadable. Ippon Datara guided her to a spot in front of a closed valve-like opening she never noticed. The metal framework forming an arc that surrounded had two rectangular handles, one on each side, as if for grabbing.

Green eyes took in the forge more carefully, every pipe, every half-finished weapon, every warp in the messy wooden floor. To think this could be the last thing she saw… Then, her eyes met red ones, and for the space of a minute, something softened in his face.

"I'm ready." she told the room.

Ippon Datara took all the iron and dumped it into a deep metal basin connected to some intricate piping.

"Then pull those toward you. As hard as you can." Sakura felt the muscles in her biceps clench as she dragged the heavy bars in like she was flexing. The forge rumbled, valve unfurling to open. Even standing with her back to it, the heat and light was so all-consuming the kunoichi almost thought her vision had been permanently seared away.

Though, she could hardly focus on that through the rising temperature as the power of the forge increased. Everything from the smallest cut to the gravest wound she had ever known paled in comparison to the excruciating strain of becoming a living conduit. It felt like someone was ripping her apart at the molecular level, tearing fistfuls of her soul out with meaty, callous hands and then stuffing it back in wrong. Just to do it again.

"You have to hold it, Sakura!" Mizuchi called. The whole place was so filled with light, all that gave her a sense of everyone's placement was the sound of their voices.

"E-Eas-easy f-for you…" She couldn't even get out the rest.

For the first time since meeting him, the blacksmith spoke with something similar to passion in his voice. "The forge is lit, and the iron's melting!"

Something tore through the air over the roar of the forge. It didn't sound human, and it took her a beat to determine the noise was actually from her. Every inch of skin felt licked by the intensity of the sun, and Sakura wouldn't have been alarmed at all if her clothes had been incinerated off her and she was standing there naked.

Her grip buckled, fingers clammy and slipping from the metal. Only willpower kept her holding on as best as she could.

Ippon Datara cursed aloud.

Sakura knew. She knew it wasn't going to be enough.

Tobirama kept his arm pressed tightly over his eyes. After Haruno started powering the forge, the intensity of the heat and pressure ratcheted up until it was just too much.

He couldn't see anything, but he could feel everything. The flare up of divine essence was battering at his mortal body so hard it stole his breath away. If there had ever been a point where he didn't believe in the might of the gods before now, Tobirama knew it meant nothing.

The blacksmithing god sounded excited, but it was Haruno's screams that were piercing his soul. Screams, or the agony of a dying beast. He couldn't tell which. But, henceforth there was no probability he would forget them.

It was the curse that confirmed what he suspected. Something was going wrong. Tobirama ground his teeth and dared to lower his arm slightly. "What's happening?" he snapped. "Her chakra signature's waning."

"Divine weapons are linked to one user because it takes a piece of their soul to forge! Wrapped in musubi, of course," the dragon goddess sounded unusually choked up. "It's taking more than she can survive giving."

"The iron's almost finished!" Ippon Datara announced, "But at this rate your godslayer won't survive to see the molding."

Stumbling, his senses disoriented, Tobirama took one step into the light. Locking onto the weakened chakra signature wasn't too difficult; it was blindly searching with arm outstretched that would have made him feel like a fool any other time.

"Haruno!" he bellowed. "You're going to kill yourself!" Her silhouette appeared before him, backlit by the forge as though she had descended from on high. "Let go!" Her chin dropped to her chest, skin sizzling with energy.

Tobirama carefully got closer, only for her head to snap up, revealing the green of her eyes was completely replaced by the overwhelming brightness of the musubi being drained from her. Every corner from the sclera to the pupils were gone, so that he couldn't even tell if she saw him. A map of lines carved down her face to her neck and across her collarbones, continuing underneath her clothes.

"Does it make sense to die like this?" Tobirama couldn't believe someone so stubborn existed. Couldn't believe that despite the fiery atmosphere, his body felt cold in terror.

Panting, she shook her head twice. A steady flow of blood leaked from her nose and mouth. "Co-come so f-far!" The dribble of crimson fell down her chin. "I'd be…ashamed…" she scowled, "to let it end here!"

The Senju froze, cognizant of her words, but unable to keep watching her destroy herself.

"But…all my life I've been looking for a way to truly stand strong, and protect everyone and everything that matters."

"But how could you know if you're already planning to give up on yourself?"

Those words… of course she'd live by them. She had probably told herself the same thing many times. Knowing what he needed to do, Tobirama firmly placed his hands on her quaking shoulders, hearing her sharp intake of breath.

His palms burned like he'd set them in something acidic. "I wouldn't advise that," The sharp warning of the god came with agony like nothing he'd ever experienced.

Tobirama nearly sank to his knees, only leaning on Haruno really keeping him upright. Someone had ripped his soul itself in two. There was no other way to describe the ominous tear inside that transcended his physical vessel.

'Haruno…there might still be traces of divine essence in my body from when our souls switched places.' At least, he was fervently hoping that was the case. 'So take it back!'

The room spun, Tobirama's vision nearly blotting out as he stood there. The deep throbbing up his arms and through his neck felt like he had blown out a vein or three, but, Haruno was starting to look better. More in control.

"That's enough!" Ippon Datara hollered. "It's in the mold!" Haruno released the bars, sliding down against his chest, boneless.

It took great effort to pull his hands away, the skin sticking painfully. Replacing them swiftly, the shinobi clutched her waist as they tipped backward. The sting in his backside was a relief, in an odd way, letting him know he was in fact still alive.

Leveraging himself up on one arm, Tobirama peered down through foggy eyes to see the young woman half-conscious on his chest. She didn't stir when he swiped a thumb at the drying blood on her face. "Ha—Sakura?"

Lifting her head, she blinked. Half-lidded beryl irises.

Tobirama hadn't counted on any of this, and just a month ago he would have counted anyone who told him it would happen as a lunatic. Now, he could only feel a growing bond with the pink-haired kunoichi. "Did I finish the weapon?" she asked.

Sitting up, Tobirama shuffled the thoughts of how Sakura straddled him to the back of his mind and motioned over his shoulder.

"If you could just manage to pull yourself away from your heartfelt embrace, I'm about to cobble out your new weapon." Ippon Datara's sarcastic drawl didn't fail to hit its mark. The skin of his ears and the highest points of his cheeks felt warmer, even though the temperature was noticeably cooler. Sakura leapt away with an embarrassed stammer, her face lit by a rosy hue. She mumbled something at him, something that sounded grateful, then wobbled to the deities.

Closing his eyes and centering his thoughts, he climbed on his own feet. Sakura stood beside the goddess as the blacksmith removed the iron with tongs. The way awe shone on her tired face made her look like an excitable child.

Hammering away at the square with powerful strikes, Ippon Datara's efforts split the block. The mujina mentioned that a divine weapon's form was decided largely by the soul of the user. And Sakura's soul was unyielding and fierce.

Tobirama walked over to join them, briefly noticing Usamaro under the table with huge pupils, a little shaken but inquisitive.

The blacksmith forced a hefty rod into Sakura's hand. "It's little wonder it took such effort to finish. Insert that into the hole there." Doing as she was told, the weapon finally took shape. Glimmering characters engraved themselves into the side of the head.

At long last, Sakura had her divine weapon.

"Has it told you its name?" Mizuchi asked.

"Hanabusa!" she raised the incredible double-sided battle axe into the air. From handle to head it stood taller than her, the largest one he'd ever seen. She wielded it as if it were a standard kunai.

"An axe!" Mizuchi gestured to the divine weapon as if she'd crafted it. "Hitotsu, you are officially relieved of your duty. Thank you for your cooperation."

Slumping down onto the floor, the weary god batted a hand her way. "Just get out and take the trouble with you."

Tobirama noticed Sakura listing and stepped over, offering support in the form of his shoulder. "You overdid it."

"Scold me later." Sakura didn't refuse his aid. "We have to finish this."

"Before you go…" Mizuchi had finally stopped teasing Ippon Datara, wearing a serious mien, "You should know the chances of encountering Kanayago are high."

Keeping a steadying arm around Sakura's waist, Tobirama arched a brow. "You're a deity. Between the two of you, there has to be more information than that."

"She's unhinged, to put it bluntly." The blacksmith tilted his head back, focusing on a point none of them could find. "Always has been, but probably more so now. Because she hasn't captured me, and Mizuchi's known to ruffle some feathers."

"You can't blame me for her instability." The dragon goddess scoffed. Grinning wryly, she pushed a finger against her lip in contemplation. "Kanayago only forges weapons for males. She's incredibly jealous that way, you see."

"Jealousy and rage are also the qualities she tends to favor in the ones she keeps close." Ippon Datara supplied. "Blacksmithing the perfect divine weapon means drawing out passion. That varies from god to god. I do it for the love of the craft. But she's…different. As long as the recipient of her weapons is filled to the brim with negative emotions, she's able to forge for them without issue."

"What about weaknesses?" Sakura urged.

The deities shared what could only be described as a flat look. "Dogs." they replied.

"Dogs?" Sakura repeated, unsure. "You mean big demonic dogs with four inch fangs?"

"No, nothing that dramatic." Ippon Datara assured. "Kanayago was once mauled to death by dogs when she was young. Don't expect her to let her guard down enough to be taken by surprise now, but if you want to invoke fear, any earth dog will do."

Sakura grimaced. "O-Okay..."

"If that's all," Mizuchi cleared her throat. "I suggest you go. Rest briefly while you can." An invisible force shoved them back, out the door. Usamaro barely managed to run after them. Tobirama glared as it almost slammed on their noses, the dismissal clear.

Sakura shifted some of her weight from him, and he was cognizant he had still been supporting her around the waist.

Neither mentioned it as he retracted his arm. "How about something to eat?" she suggested.

Out on the street, people were already gaping at the menacing axe in her hand. "You're going to want to put that away for now first."

Peeking around at everyone who was pointing, Sakura fumbled to find a storage scroll anywhere on her person. Remembering he had one himself, Tobirama silently handed it over. She snatched it quickly, the divine weapon disappearing until later use.

Sakura hadn't realized just how much forging Hanabusa took out of her until she had a steaming bowl of soba in front of her. It was hard to get the noodles to her mouth fast enough, and she suddenly felt hypocritical for all the times Naruto had done the same thing after a long mission and she'd scolded him.

Tobirama sat beside her with his own bowl of cold soba, eating noiselessly. She didn't even hear a single slurp. But her bowl was empty before she knew it, and she stared at the bottom longingly. Until a new one was gently sat in its place as the old one was collected.

Smiling at the noodle bar's owner, Sakura set in on her second helping. Tenryu was great. Everyone was so gracious and helpful, even to total strangers. The thought that innocent people from such a peaceful village died because of Sanna wasn't going to go unpunished. There was a faint snap, the pinkette looking down at the broken chopstick pieces sitting in her clenched fist.

Tobirama stopped eating, observing her dilemma and then handing her a new pair. A little sheepish, she accepted the eating utensils and broke them up to continue her meal. This was nice. Strange, but nice. She and Tobirama had gone from hardly more than strangers to partners and now settled into interactions that felt almost like a new friendship over the last several days.

Sakura's noodle consumption slowed down. She was only just absorbing that he used her given name at the forge. And that the way his rich timbre made it sound was incredibly pleasant.

Noticing the Senju watching her discreetly, she shook herself free of that…unnecessary thought… and began eating again. Only to accidentally miss the noodles and bite down on her tongue instead. Hoping he didn't see it, she hissed to herself.

"Sakura,"

Her spine straightened, the warmth pooling low in her belly again. She glared in his direction, the noodles hanging from her mouth. At this point he had to be perfectly aware and doing it on purpose.

"What is it?"

Tobirama, undeterred by her tone, sat his bowl aside and waved the offer for another one off. "What you're trying to do...it's not that I doubt your power. I have a great deal of respect for it, actually."

The kunoichi was glad there was nothing in her mouth or she may have choked. "I wouldn't have guessed that."

Tobirama didn't meet her eyes for a moment, staring down at the bar. "I…might have been hasty in deeming you a threat." he admitted.

'That's understating it.'

"When this all began I did think you could be easily corrupted, that maybe you were even halfway there."

Sakura sipped at her water, thinking back to Sekai when the blights had muddied her thoughts. If he had seen her then, he'd have known he was right. In the past she had lost herself.

'I've come a long way since that.' She was quick to remind herself.

"Your power is enormous and otherworldly. I've seen it more than once now. But I've also seen that in order to wield it the way you do, your inner strength must be even greater."

The young woman couldn't do anything but curse at her racing heart, falling right through those cat-like eyes of his when he finally looked at her. "Sakura." It was pumping so wildly she thought it might rupture. "I don't see you losing yourself, not when you're steered so strongly by the power of your heart."

It wasn't large, or explosive. It didn't outshine the sun. But when he said that, his lips pulled into a small but genuine smile, Sakura wasn't sure she'd ever seen him so clearly before.

Not when they swapped bodies or when he confessed to his remorse over killing Sanna. This was Tobirama offering her his trust and acceptance. At long last, she had his acknowledgement.

"Thank you." If she said any more than that, she was liable to tear up.

A flicker of understanding passed over his face, then a nod. Without making a big deal about it, he returned to sipping his water and people watching.

There was a comfortable calmness between them, Sakura finishing up her noodles. The air was blowing a nice breeze their way, the background sound of people chatting at the bar was relaxing. And then Usamaro, who had been sleeping near their feet, yowled. At first she thought someone had stepped on him, ready to tell them off for injuring her cat while soothing the feline.

It was instead a twitchy otter who'd shoved the disgruntled cat out of the way, standing on two legs so that it reached her hip. "There you are!" he gasped, out of breath with his pupils blown. "We've looked everywhere for you!"

Tobirama turned in his seat, and she followed his gaze. Sure enough, several more otters hung back, staring at them from across the street. "What's wro—"

"It's the beavers!" The animal was clearly worked up, flailing his paws. "They…"

"Attacked?!" Sakura hopped off her seat, already getting out the money for their food.

"No," the otter groaned. "They surrendered. They want a truce. Lord Enmei and Lady Chuya are talking with Hisoki and his sister now."

Sakura scratched her cheek, still not understanding the sense of urgency. "Isn't that a good thing?"

"It would be…" the otter had started pacing in front of them on all fours. "But I think we might have bigger problems."

Tobirama also vacated his stool, one word on his lips. "Sanna."

Sakura nearly tripped over her feet as they dashed into forests Choshu's Neck. There, as the messenger otter had said, was a large gathering of semiaquatic animals. Otters and beavers watched each other tensely as their leaders conversed. However, it wasn't really that scene that surprised her as much as the third group interspersed with them.

"Sakura!" The happy shout of her name was the only warning that preceded the exuberant mujina jumping into her arms.

She held him away from her, frowning a little. "Ubagabi?" she questioned. "What are you all doing here?"

"We heard the commotion and came to check it out." Komugi explained as she came over. "Can you blame us? We're usually the troublemakers. It's hard to imagine anyone giving us a run for the title."

"We were bored, too." Iori sighed, trotting up to them. "And maybe snooping a little bit…"

Sakura set Ubagabi down, much to his displeasure. She had to give it to them. The mujina were always honest with their mischief. "Shut up!" Tsubute hollered, running into the mix. Noticing her, he cocked his head and flashed terrifying teeth.

Although, it wasn't as alarming as the first time since she was used to it, and fairly sure the mujina weren't going to turn on her. "You told us not to make nuisances of ourselves. So we offered to help, uh, mediate whatever's going on here."

"I take it your brand of diplomacy fell short." Tobirama never could help but be critical of the mujina, and they in turn often enjoyed pushing his buttons. But Sakura didn't have much time to scold either parties at this exact moment.

"Eh, just remember we're not really animals." Tsubute clucked. Except the adorable little paw he was waving around made it hard to believe that. "We could make everyone fall in line if we wanted to, with the ultimatum of total annihilation."

Sakura's eyes shone with contempt for the idea, and the smart-mouthed mujina backpedaled. "Heh…Not that we ever would. We're on our best behavior."

"Ah, our human friends have arrived," Enmei boomed, carefully walking toward them. The beavers hung back, Hisoki staring their way as if he recognized them. "Sorry to summon you, but after discussing it, Hisoki and and Hatsuko would like an allegiance."

Hisoki grumbled, tail beating the ground restlessly. "The weapon that human gave me nearly killed me a few days ago. It took almost dying to see I, we," he motioned to his fellow beavers, "were being used. He never intended to help us destroy the otters. His goal was to destroy us all."

Hatsuko voiced her agreement. "Yes, and that cannot stand. We want to strike back to repay this."

Chuya stared over at her mate. "What do you think? Is it worth trusting them now?"

"Under normal circumstances, I would never agree." Enmei said. "But…I can't see a bigger threat from the beavers than the one that dangerous human poses." His eyes softened hopefully. "We know you plan to confront them, and we'd all like to join in this battle."

"We can't promise you'll all survive it." Tobirama spoke up.

"That's the case with any battle, human." Hatsuko retorted. "Stop trying to withhold a good time!"

Clutching his head in paw, Noburu muttered his disapproval. "Trusting humans and beavers? This is madness…"

"This is an all our nothing kinda situation," Tsubute surprised Sakura by jumping to her shoulders.

"You too?!" Ubagabi squealed.

He went ignored as the mujina leader made himself comfortable on his perch. "Count us in too. We just got here. We don't want everything turning upside down unless it's because of us."

"Sanna's going to come out of The Under ready to end this," Sakura told everyone. "We should be right there to confront him before he can try and tear a town apart again."

"The Under's entrances and exits are webbed around everywhere." Tobirama mentioned.

Tsubute jumped down, striking a triumphant pose. "We lived in The Under for longer than any of you kids have been alive. We can sniff out the veins without any issue. And! I think I know where cat boy's going to pop up."

With the beavers and otters no longer at each other's throats, traveling through the valley without the concern of stepping on someone's territory was a breeze. The large procession found itself in a fertile valley, one with an airy wheat smell.

"Shiga herb." Tobirama surveyed the quiet place. "This is where it all began."

Sakura felt every hair on her neck and arms stand at attention, a blanket of malevolence sullying the air quality. "And, it's where it'll all end too."

Sanna and his brothers stood waiting at the other end of the field. The pinkette stared at the two additional figures beside them. "Is that…?"

"Sakura!" The chirpy voice and deceptively innocent face. "I was hoping so much we'd meet again."

Lip curling, the kunoichi reached for the scroll sealing Hanabusa. "Erika! I should've known."

"Express delivery." Sanna smirked. "Instead of sending you to the shinigami, I brought one straight to you."

The tall woman hunching over next to them had a far-away look in her eyes, biting her lip in anticipation. "A godslayer. Mizuchi's godslayer."

"Kanayago." Sakura acknowledged.

"Don't say my name with your filthy lips!" The goddess snarled. "I asked these three to capture you alive, but I've gotten impatient. The Heaven's placed a bounty on you. Whether you're dead or alive doesn't matter, so as long as I take some of you back as proof of your demise, I can use the rest for the kindling of my forge. Then that dragon bitch is next."

"Haven't you died once already, lady?" Ubagabi giggled. "A few times in fact."

Kanayago rolled her eyes. "You're those abominations that whore Benzaiten made."

A series of vicious noises came from the entire group of mujina. It didn't take much to figure out their goddess creator was a sore point for them. "Hey, I wonder what divine flesh tastes like…" Tsubute said.

Komugi's body sank low to the ground, ready to pounce. "There's only one way to find out."

Kanayago shot her arms to the side, and her body was enveloped in a suit of armor. The silver shone fiercely in the sunlight, every inch of her covered up in metal. The full casing stood over ten feet tall, and the center from the chest to the abdomen glowed red. "She's got a furnace built into her suit."

The goddess's laugh was a sharp crack, "That's right! Just try dealing damaging." A samurai helmet with a face plate appeared, concealing her further. The eye holes and mouth grate glowed with the same fiery intensity as the portable furnace.

"She can show off all she likes," Erika raised her fists. "I don't need any fancy protection to hurt you Sakura. Lord Yama isn't here to rescue you with mercy this time."

Drawing Hanabusa to her side, Sakura reveled in the way their enemies stopped to appreciate her new weapon. Even Erika's eyes momentarily grew hesitant. "That's right, but he's not here to save you from me, either."

Whew! This chapter was a powerhouse. Very long, very emotional, very glad it's finished and out there. This is technically the conclusion of the TobiSaku arc. It's turned into a two-parter. So this is part 1, and the next chapter part 2 finally closes out the arc. What did everyone think about the ways they changed with each other over the course of this? Gaining a bond with him was like dial-up internet service for Sakura, but finally! A connection. It's going to be nice to write their shifted, friendlier (and eventually loving) dynamic going forward.

At this point, Tobirama and Sakura will fight for their lives against three godslayers, a creepy goddess and a shinigami, so next chapter is more of the battle! The mission in the capital is far from done, though. Speaking of: Yes, Naoko's past is pretty sad. I had it planned this way for a while. There's always been a reason why she's so untamable and sultry, and it all goes back to the way she was abused by adults as a child in one way or another.

A byobu is a decorative, multi-paneled folding screen

A yujo literally means "woman of pleasure" so a term for a prostitute or courtesan

An oiran is normally the HBIC of prostitutes in a brothel. She's very high ranking and is even allowed to be more selective with her clientele than lower ranked women. Her clients normally are important, and she's trained in a number of things outside sex work so she can provide other entertainment. She is expected to be intelligent, graceful, charming, and witty. Maybe a little mysterious too. And naturally, gorgeous.

A tayu is the highest of the high ranking prostitutes in a pleasure district. She was very, very pricy and her clientele was exclusive. Her social status was so high, she could be thought of as a celebrity and was given a very luxurious life, usually. Because of Naoko's looks and charm, she was expected to ascend to this rank one day.

Kamuro are child attendants in a brothel. So they were assistants to the courtesans. Normally between the ages of 5-9. They would run errands to get snacks, help the courtesans dress and prepare before meeting clients, make sure the clients were enamored with the courtesans by giving cute answers about how the prostitutes felt about them to stroke their egos, things like that.

A shinzo is an older girl apprenticing under a courtesan. In this case, Naoko meets the shinzo to the oiran at that time.

So that concludes my brief 101 on ancient pleasure house hierarchy. There's a lot more, but this is the gist that's important for this subplot.

It was mentioned previously but Naoko means "obedient child". An ironic name because this mission is what made her decide to spend her life being the opposite, especially to those in power. Jundo, the girl who guided Naoko during her time at the brothel, is also ironically named, as it means "chastity, purity".

The return of the menace known as Erika! Up to her old tricks. But now we know how Sanna and his brothers were brought back to life. Do Madara and Izuna know all their brothers have returned? No, as briefly touched on in this chapter, they do not.

And Kanayago, Goddess of Iron! Let's discuss for a minute. She's rather...unsavory. And is written that way in a lot of the lore, too. She's said to have a deep hatred for women, and only take on men as disciples in the ways of iron working/blacksmithing. If one of her disciples has a wife who gives birth while he's apprenticing, she sends them away, not allowing them to return to the forge until they've purified themselves. If he's at a point in his work where he can't stop, he isn't allowed to go home. And he has to avoid looking at the face of his newborn. Some lore says she does the same thing if a man's wife/girlfriend has her period while he's apprenticing. He has to leave. She also has a thing for dead bodies. Yes, seriously. In this fic, it's because she uses them as "kindling" when she forges. The lore's not really clear on why she loves and keeps the company of corpses though. Furthermore, Kanayago has a lot she hates. Dogs, hemp, women and ivy. After reading this, I'm sure she's got a lot of admirers now ready to swipe right on her dating profile.

Reviews are so great. If you enjoyed this behemoth chapter, all I ask is that you consider leaving one. Even if it's mostly keyboard smashing I'll appreciate it. I'm so grateful for everyone's love, support and patience.