1. One Thousand Hands

Despite its name, rain was a natural part of the Land of Fire, particularly in the hidden shinobi village, Konohagakure. For the trees of which the village was named to grow so full and lush, rain was an inconvenience the people of Konohagakure endured, no matter how hard or angrily it fell. On this dark night, it fell loudly without relief. The village leader, the Hokage, listened as the shinobi in the halls had to yell to speak over the drumming rain.

The rooftops of the village were an array of bright colors, now deepened to dark stones beneath the darkness of night. Very few lights remained flickering in the early morning hours. His eyes lingered on the glowing complex in the distance, wondering just what was occurring there now.

Tomorrow, he would have to invite the clan heads, including the Uchiha in the glowing distant complex, to discuss what exactly was to happen now. The Uchiha would have to offer something - or someone - to appease the village. A crime had been committed, and the village would not withhold punishment.

The Senju clan - the clan of the First and Second Hokage - was gonen completely eradicated. All that remained were three cold bodies in the village morgue.

The Hokage sighed as he moved away from the window to sit back down at his desk. There was a knock at the door just as he felt the cushion of his chair.

"Come in."

"Sir, we have the crime scene secure," announced a young man as he entered the office.

"What a mess," sighed the Hokage. "Where is the girl?"

"In the questioning room. Would you like to see her?" asked the jonin.

"Yes, please bring her here. And have someone bring us some tea."

The jonin bowed out, leaving the Hokage alone once again. He removed his hat and ran his hands over his face tiredly. His bones ached. He was getting too old.

"What a mess," he muttered to himself again.

Looking at the papers on his desk, he realized he had already been behind with his work, and now with this disaster, he would not be sleeping for the next week. He picked up a folder from his desk and opened it. Inside were four papers. Each had a photo of a person on it. They all shared the name "Senju."

It was a family - a father, mother, daughter, and son. Each had black hair, dark as the night. The little girl and boy's gazes were sharp. Their eyes were an alarming shade of deep red - something he hadn't seen in many, many years. The Hokage traced over the photo of the girl for a moment before looking back at the other three.

The boy was only four. Though he did not smile in the photo, there was an underlying sweetness to his expression that seemed innate, despite the severity of his eyes. The mother and father's files showed impressive benchmarks for shinobi - early academy graduations, early chuunin promotions, many successful S-, A-, and B-rank missions…

He sighed again. They had truly lost two valuable shinobi tonight, not even counting those who would have to die to pay for their crimes.

There was a knock at the door. The Hokage straightened himself out and looked up.

"Come in."

The door creaked open. The jonin from before had returned, but with him was now a tray of tea and a little girl no older than seven. Her hair was black and short. Her eyes were that deep shade of red. The Hokage shivered slightly as she looked up to look him hard in the eye. He thought of his old teacher's red gaze.

But it was not just the irises of her eyes that were red. Her face was red, blotchy, and the traces of heavy tears still marked her face. Her mouth was pulled tight with grief, nose red, and eyes nearly swollen shut. She locked eyes with the Hokage in a way that made the old man think she would either set the building on fire or drown them all with tears. And though he could not see it, the crevices of her hands were also so caked with red, she could not remove it even if she tried.

"Senju-kun, please come in. Have a seat," said the Hokage softly. He gestured to the lone chair before his desk. She eyed it suspiciously and then glared harshly up at him. He smiled gently. "It's okay. I'm sure you're exhausted. Would you like some water? Tea?"

She shook her head and then marched straight towards the chair as the jonin set the steaming tea on the Hokage's desk. She climbed into it loudly and then glared back up at him again, hands fisted into the gray, sterile clothes they had given her. He wondered just how blood-soaked her own clothes were now. He sighed inwardly as the jonin moved back towards the door and bowed out silently.

So young. What a burden she'd been given.

"I'm very sorry for your loss, Senju-kun," he said.

The little girl's lips trembled, and in her gaze, he saw every shade of grief and fury he could imagine. Her face twisted and stretched, and he wondered if she might explode at any moment.

But instead of scream or snap back, her eyes began to well up with tears again. Her mouth stretched wide, teeth bared, and her head bowed. He heard the soft sound of sniffles, and then sharp breath. A muffled sob broke free, and then a whimper, which broke and spread like flooding water.

The little girl let her mouth stretch open, and then a heartrending wail sang through the room. It fluttered and shattered through the windows and doors and could be heard from the floor below. The guards at the door - shinobi trained for their stoicism - twitched with discomfort at the sound. The Senju child released her grief into the dark night, crying and screaming. She called for her mother and her father and the little boy whose faces now remained aware only in the photos on the Hokage's desk. Her cries blended and contorted until even she did not know why she cried.

The Hokage's throat tightened, and his eyes burned as he watched the small girl grieve for her family. He thought of his own son - a jonin already - and wondered just how he had been lucky enough to never force his child to endure such misery when both Hokage before him and the Hokage after him had died and left their children behind.

Finally, her cries softened.

"I'm very sorry for your loss," he repeated quietly. "And I understand there's nothing I can say to alleviate your pain. But we've brought you here because we want to make sure you are kept safe. The people who did this will be captured and punished, and they won't be able to get to you. I promise you are safe here."

"What about my family?" she asked abruptly. Her eyes were wide and piercing. The Hokage suppressed a shiver.

"Their bodies are being taken care of and protected."

"Where?"

"Somewhere safe. Someone will take you to see them tomorrow," said the Hokage.

"I want to see them now!" she demanded furiously. Her lips then trembled, as the grief began to burst through her anger. Her tears began to flow again steadily. She did not wipe them away. "Please!" she begged. "I want to see…" She hiccoughed. "I want to see my… okaa-san."

Her words died into soft sobs again as the weight of her loss finally settled into her limbs and heart. She bowed her head and let the tears trickle into her lap and clenched fists.

"But why did this happen?" she sobbed. The tears now soaked her sterile clothes, but they only seemed to magnify the anger in the girl's heart. "Why didn't you protect them? How could you let this happen?"

Children of shinobi often grew into adults a startling pace - much too fast - and in an instant, the Hokage knew that this girl had also become a victim to the sad cycle. The Hokage' stomach clenched as he stood from his desk. Senju jumped as he moved around the desk towards her, recoiling into her seat further like a cat. As she pulled back, he looked her in the eye and then dropped to his knees.

"Hokage-sama!" blurted one of the guards, but the Hokage put up a steady hand. The room quieted again as he removed the large hat from his head. He sighed and ran a hand through his thinning hair. The night air was cool against his scalp. He looked the girl in the face again from the floor. Her eyes were wide, afraid.

"Senju-san, I, the Third Hokage Sarutobi Hiruzen, apologize for your loss," he said firmly. He then put his hands down and lowered his forehead deeply until it touched the floor between his hands. He remained low as he continued, "And I apologize on the behalf of Konohagakure, for this deep failure. I know there is no way to compensate you for the loss of your family, but I swear that this village will do all that it takes to protect you."

He sat back up slowly again to look her in the eye, still kneeling, to see her crying again, eyes ablaze. Though her gaze felt as if he could burn beneath it, he did not waver.

"And as the student of Senju Tobirama, I apologize for not protecting his descendants, but the Will of Fire remains strong. On my life, I swear this to be true," he said softly. His own eyes burned with tears.

He bowed low again, and when he sat up once more, her eyes were still wet, but she did not cry. Her lips were pulled tight and wide, and he imagined the face of her great-grandfather Hashirama.

He stood up slowly, his joints aching with every movement. He really was getting old. Once standing straight, he looked at the men at the door, both of whom looked deeply moved. The one who had brought the girl had his mouth pulled tight, as if to prevent himself from also crying.

"Please contact my wife and ask her to arrange something within our own private quarters for Senju-san. She will stay with us until we are able to arrange better accommodations to her liking," said the Hokage. He looked at her carefully to see if this was okay with her, but her head was bowed and shaking again. He took a deep breath to steady himself and put a hand to her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

Dawn on Konohagakure was gray and blinding. As news of the remaining Senju clan's slaughter fell upon the village, a deep wave of sorrow settled over the Land of Fire. The next day, three men from the Uchiha clan were given up by their own and arrested for the murders of the Senju family. Within another three days, they had been sentenced and convicted. One month later, they were hanged before the entire village as reparation for their crimes.

So tragic, the villagers whispered. The two clans who acted as the foundation for Konohagakure would never find peace with each other. It seemed the Uchiha's Curse of Hatred had finally defeated the Senju.

In between those dark days, a funeral was held for the last of the Senju with all of Konoha in attendance. In the front standing beside the Hokage was a young girl no older than seven with newly cut black hair and eyes redder than the setting sun. She did not shed any tears.

A few rows back stood a silver-haired boy, age 14. He did not pay the funeral much mind, and he would not remember much of it even later that evening. Years from then, he would look back and regret his lack of respect.

The same girl became a regular fixture in the Hokage's household after that. The staff was told she was a distant relative who had been orphaned and taken in by her generous great-granduncle. They told themselves that her sad past explained the perpetual anger in her young face and did their best to forgive her for her harshness. She was just a child, after all.

For many weeks, she did not speak, and for months after that, she did not look upon anyone with anything more than disdain. She cut her black hair short with blades meant for killing. She slept with another blade beneath her pillow.

Through it all, the Hokage remained patient. He showed her how to aim her blades, how to move through her hand signs so that her anger could be redirected for a purpose. The servants whispered that it was appropriate, for she had already become as hard as the stones into which the Hokage of the past had been carved. She could become a warrior - someone to protect her village.

The last daughter of the Senju was alone with only blades and memories to remind her of the clan she had lost. Even her name was no longer hers to keep. The Will of Fire had continued to uphold the village. She wondered if her family had held it a bit too close, for they had been allowed to burn away for it.