Tsunade is far too used to drinking her troubles away. However, lately she has only sat with a bottle of sake, holding it not because she is drinking but just because she needs something to hold onto, something that's tangible because everything else is slipping away so fast. She wonders if the sake bottle may slip through her hands, too, and sometimes she worries so much about it slipping away that she grips it so tightly the glass shatters in her hand and the alcohol is spilled all over. Then everything's in pieces anyway, and she can't help but to feel as if nothing she can do will stop the shattering.

As she watches Sakura flit around the hospital, she finds herself envious of the young woman. Sakura is perfect and lovely and frightening. Sakura has her whole life ahead of her. Sakura, if she works hard enough, will have all of the ones that she loves back with her soon. When the envy flies away, Tsunade finds herself frightened for Sakura. She worries that history will repeat itself soon, and she prays that Sakura does not fall into the same situation she herself has fallen into.

One day Sakura is humming as she finishes dressing the wound of yet another casualty of battle, and Tsunade's heart gives a painful tug. "Sakura?" she calls, the lips of her lips twisted slightly up in a sad smile. Sakura, caught mid-hum, looks questioningly up at her mentor and smiles ever so slightly.

"Don't be the last one," Tsunade commands, the gentleness of her words and the meaning of them lost as they pass her lips. For now, Sakura only looks questioningly at her teacher, desiring further information but too busy with bandaging to stop and ask. It's not for her to understand now, but maybe when she's older, she'll learn what Tsunade meant.

Tsunade prays and hopes that her protege never will.