"Phew—that was bliss."
Fresh from the hot spring, Tsunade dropped into a seat opposite the boy, a loose yukata draped over her shoulders. Steam still clung to her skin; a few damp strands of pale-blonde hair framed her face. She stretched, unselfconscious as ever.
"Rain every day in this country," she grumbled. "Everything feels damp."
Across from her, Uchiha Sogetsu's brow twitched. For a second, even his practiced Spectator path composure wavered—then he set his expression flat and nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"Eyes front, kid. Am I that mesmerizing?" Tsunade leaned her cheek into a palm, eyes glinting.
"Please be mindful, Lady Tsunade," Sogetsu replied, utterly deadpan. If self-control were a jutsu, he was Jonin-rank.
The door slid again. Hikari stepped in, hair still damp from the bath, cheeks faintly pink. Her simple yukata fell to the knee, and she sat neatly at the side, stealing tiny glances at Tsunade… then at herself, a cloud of quiet dissatisfaction in her eyes.
"It's fine," Tsunade said, reading her in an instant. She ruffled Hikari's hair. "You're young. You'll grow."
"R-really?" Hope flickered.
"Really. Hikari's adorable; in time you'll bloom." Tsunade pulled her into a warm hug, grinning.
Sogetsu pressed his lips together, swallowing the quip that she could be Tsunade's great-grandmother by birth year alone. No need to spike the moment.
Hikari's gaze drifted back to the boy, fingers twining, the bashful rhythm of a first crush. Tsunade noticed, a faint crease touching her brow—not out of dislike for Sogetsu, but because Konoha's air was getting stormy: Sakumo's suicide still cast a shadow, the Fourth's succession was approaching, and politics had teeth.
Then she let it go. She'd be leaving Konoha after this. Life would teach Hikari what to name her feelings.
"Hanzo answered," Tsunade said between bites. "He needs prep time. The morning of the day after tomorrow, he'll assist with the reseal."
"The day after…" Sogetsu's eyes narrowed. "Let's hope that isn't cover for some other move."
"He won't try anything," Tsunade said, confident. "The old man's watching. Hanzo won't risk a war."
Sogetsu just nodded and ate. If Tsunade was the one picking up the tab (to offset "therapy fees"), he had a moral duty to put a dent in the budget.
—
Konan jolted awake with a cry, breath ragged.
The nightmare again. Only this time, the details didn't blur when she sat up—they etched deeper. She was the fulcrum of the tragedy. Captured. Used as a hostage. Yahiko died by Nagato's hand because of it.
"Konan?" Yahiko and Nagato burst in, alarm giving way to tight concern as they saw her white face and vacant eyes.
"Was it… that dream again?" Yahiko asked.
"It's my fault," Konan whispered. "I killed you, Yahiko."
"Hey—Konan, it was a dream," Yahiko said, rubbing his temple. "You said yourself you didn't remember the details, so—"
"No! It wasn't a dream!" Konan's voice broke. "I remember. All of it. It wasn't a dream."
She couldn't explain how she knew. She just did. It felt like fate tapping her shoulder.
"Tell us," Nagato said softly. "What happened in it?"
Konan drew a steadying breath and recounted—capture, a staged "parley," and the trap's jaws.
"Sounds exactly like something you'd do," Nagato murmured after, then glanced at Yahiko. "And something this idiot would do too."
"Hey! Why am I the idiot?" Yahiko sputtered. "You wouldn't?"
"I would."
A tiny smile ghosted across Nagato's lips.
"Did you see the enemy clearly this time?" Yahiko asked, face hardening.
"Hanzo," Konan said, eyes turning to ice. "He colluded with Konoha. They laid the trap long before the 'talks'."
Nagato's Rinnegan rippled with a cold light.
◇ BONUS & SUPPORT ◇
◇ 1 bonus chapter for every 10 reviews — drop a comment!
◇ 1 bonus chapter for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ Read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon → patreon.com/StrawHatStudios