Dusk.
Tsunade walked along Konoha's streets with her head lowered, two boys trailing quietly behind her.
The girl's usually sleek, glossy high ponytail was slightly disheveled today, its usual shine dulled. A faint shimmer of tears lingered in her eyes, and the occasional suppressed sob betrayed just how shattered Konoha's little princess truly was.
Jiraiya trudged along with his head hanging low. Seeing the girl he loved so openly distressed, he didn't dare approach her, only following silently—hoping his presence alone might offer some comfort.
Orochimaru's complexion looked even paler than usual. He understood Tsunade's pain better than anyone. His own parents had perished in this brutal war as well.
With a mind more sensitive than most, Orochimaru knew that what Tsunade needed now wasn't empty reassurance, but simple companionship. Unfortunately, the few words of comfort he possessed paled in comparison to Jiraiya's usual silver tongue.
Yet at this critical moment, Jiraiya was acting like a coward.
When it was time to step forward, he shrank back like a turtle hiding in its shell.
So Orochimaru chose the same path—simply walking beside Tsunade.
As a teammate, he would remain at her side.
Lost in that thought, Orochimaru suddenly noticed Tsunade slowing and turning back. She forced a fragile smile, tears trembling at the edges of her lashes, her struggle to restrain her grief making the sight painfully heart-wrenching.
Seeing that smile—more painful than open crying—Jiraiya finally couldn't hold back and stepped forward.
"Tsunade… you know how villagers like to spread nonsense. Lord Hokage is so powerful—there's no way he would—"
The word die never left his mouth.
Tsunade cut him off.
She was terrified of hearing that word right now.
"Granduncle is the Hokage. Even Grandpa used to be afraid of him. He's so strong—nothing could happen to him."
"He knows so many forbidden techniques… Water Release, Fire Release…"
Her voice cracked again and again as she spoke, as if desperately trying to convince herself more than anyone else.
But the fragile dam couldn't hold.
Tears burst free in a sudden flood.
She choked out a rushed, "See you tomorrow," then turned and ran toward home without looking back.
A girl's pride forced her to hide her weakness from her companions.
She was the Hokage's granddaughter.
In moments, her figure disappeared from Jiraiya and Orochimaru's sight.
"Jiraiya," Orochimaru said coldly, turning to him. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"
Watching Jiraiya stand there dazed and hollow-eyed stirred a rare flicker of irritation in Orochimaru.
The same Jiraiya who once begged him to play the villain so he could swoop in like a hero—
And now, at the most critical moment, he'd frozen like a block of wood.
"I… I…" Jiraiya couldn't find his words.
He'd wanted to say something. Do something.
But for some reason, his mind had gone blank, as if his soul had slipped out of his body.
"Tch."
Useless.
Orochimaru sneered inwardly, then turned away without another word, heading back toward his own home.
Only Jiraiya remained standing in the street.
Bathed in the fading glow of the sunset, his shadow stretched long and thin. He lingered there blankly for a moment before finally snapping out of his stupor.
He walked home alone, his thoughts in utter chaos. Now, countless comforting words flooded into his mind one after another.
Too late.
—
Senju Clan District.
Tsunade rushed through the gates in a blur, unable to wait another second to reach her grandmother, Uzumaki Mito.
Grandma Mito would know what had happened to Granduncle.
The moment Tsunade burst inside, she caught sight of a familiar splash of red.
Mito was seated at the table. The tabletop was filled with dishes, untouched.
"Grandma… Grandma…"
"People in the village are saying… Granduncle, he—"
Tears streamed freely down Tsunade's face as she threw herself into Mito's arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
Mito wrapped her arms around Tsunade and gently patted her back.
Grief welled up inside her once more, tears shimmering in her own eyes as several thoughts flashed through her mind.
The news leaked this fast?
Who was it? Sarutobi Hiruzen? Shimura Danzo? Uchiha Kagami?
Faces flickered through her thoughts in rapid succession.
Yet the strongest emotion of all was a simple, aching sorrow—
My poor granddaughter…
"Grandma," Tsunade sobbed, lifting her tear-soaked face. "Granduncle… is he really dead?"
Mito looked into those trembling eyes.
She wanted desperately to say no. To say Tobirama was fine, that everything was nothing more than ugly rumors.
But she couldn't.
Truth was fire. Lies were paper. Paper could never wrap fire forever.
Deceiving Tsunade now would only deepen the wound later.
Better a sharp pain now than a long, festering one.
Mito's heart tightened as she gazed at her granddaughter. A thousand words passed through her mind before she finally spoke softly.
"Tsunade… you're the Hokage's granddaughter. Do you remember what your grandfather and granduncle always told you?"
"No matter what happens… you must stay strong."
"Grandma will always be with you."
Tsunade's eyes widened.
The last fragile thread of hope snapped.
Her sobs grew louder, tears pouring freely once more.
Mito could only continue holding her, soothing her in a low voice.
—
The sun slipped beneath the horizon. The moon climbed into Konoha's sky.
Pale moonlight washed over the streets—but reflected only scattered silhouettes. The lively bustle that usually lingered late into the night was gone. Tonight, the village lay eerily quiet.
In just one afternoon, through the tireless efforts of the Uchiha, the news of Senju Tobirama's death had spread across Konoha like a virulent plague.
The village's Hokage had fallen.
The man who had led them through the First Shinobi World War, who had stood on the threshold of ushering in peace—had died at the border negotiations.
Who still had the heart to celebrate?
Would Konoha's future remain as peaceful and prosperous as before?
Grief and uncertainty drove villagers to shutter their doors early.
—
Inside the room, time slipped by little by little.
Tsunade's crying gradually weakened. Exhaustion finally claimed her, and she drifted into sleep still wrapped in sorrow. Tearstains lingered on her cheeks, promising dreams that would not be gentle.
Mito moved quietly, lifting Tsunade onto the bed and covering her with a blanket, every motion careful, afraid of waking her.
She watched her granddaughter sleep and sighed softly.
For shinobi, separation by death was an old companion.
Yet life would still go on.
Just as the sun would always rise again.
"Tsunade… you must become stronger," Mito murmured.
She stepped out of the room, fetched a basin, and washed her face. She, too, had cried for a long while.
Now, however, there were matters far more important than tears.
Konoha's future rested squarely on her shoulders.
"Senju Momoki."
Mito's voice rang out, calm and steady.
Momoki appeared almost instantly. He had been waiting nearby, ready for her summons. The sound of crying had echoed through the night—this was no time to slack off.
"Go," Mito ordered evenly. "Bring those brats to me."
"Yes!"
The night was not finished with them yet.
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