Work Text:
“Absolutely not.”
“Hokage-sa-”
“No!” Tsunade slams her hand on the desk as she yells at the T&I head, eyes blazing with enough fury to light them up a brilliant shining gold. The tall man is unfazed by her reaction, has seen enough horrors to not jump, startle or shiver in fear. Tsunade is known for her temper. Morino Ibiki is one of the few who are unaffected by those outbursts.
“That girl has just lived through a war!” she hisses through clenched teeth, all fury, spite and wrath. She's not unreasonable. She has proven herself to be a good leader, one who looks out for those under her command. Tsunade would do anything to protect the shinobi that depend on her. But she has limits. Two very strict lines that nobody survives crossing for long. One of them is Shizune. The other, Sakura.
“Exactly. She's untested, yet. As your apprentice especially she is in a very precarious position-” He doesn't get to finish.
“I will not allow you to torture her!” Tsunade spits, leaning over her desk, ready to lunge. Chakra crackles between her fingertips and her muscles flex as her body is consumed by strength that can bring down mountains.
“She will need to go through the process eventually. All jounin candidates do,” Ibiki points out and it takes some of the wind out of Tsunade's sails, turning a fraction of her anger into resignation. It's true. One day, that girl will have to strip down to her underwear and let those she calls allies inflict pain and other horrors onto her. You cannot make jounin without proving you are resistant to torture and interrogation. It's one of the core rules of the village. The damned, blasted village.
“The Uchiha has already agreed. Who knows what happened to that kid under Orochimaru's guidance. The Uzumaki signed up immediately afterwards. And Haruno can't follow suit without your explicit permission.” Because Sakura is Tsunade's apprentice and without her master's permission, nobody can take her away for anything.
“You're not getting it. Try again in a few months.” For all Tsunade cares, that unpleasant business can wait until the girl is weeks away from making jounin. She's only eighteen. There's still time. The man frowns but knows better than to talk back. Tsunade will not budge on this. No matter how strong the girl likes to pretend she is, Shizune lets her know about every time the girl confides in her and tells her about the nightmares she has.
It's not a breach of trust. Not exactly. The three of them are their own unit. Sakura knows that Tsunade is aware of her struggles and trusts her to take care of her in silence. Shizune and her share the workload, always keep an eye on the girl's food intake, watch her when they can spare an eye, adjust her hospital hours so she gets enough sleep. Leave small doses of sleeping aids where she can find them. Tsunade and Shizune both have known war. It's their duty to help Sakura through her first.
“Alright. Just don't expect Haruno to be happy about it.” He leaves without another word and Tsunade takes a moment to release a long sigh and bury her head in her hands. Moments later, she reaches for one of her sake hideaways and takes a large gulp straight from the bottle. She can't allow this to happen and she doesn't even know how much of that is her concern for the girl and how much is her own inability to let her come to harm. Sakura is an adult. She's young, strong, resilient. She won't struggle forever. Tsunade's hands shake and with a frustrated groan, she empties the bottle.
Fuck this village.
Dinner that night is a quiet affair. Has been ever since they all came home from the war zone. Shizune and Tsunade generally tend to be quiet during the evenings. Both have stressful occupations and lose their respective masks once the lights dim. That changed when Sakura joined them. First once, then twice. Soon, three times a week. Eventually, every night. Neither ever asked why she's not with her parents though with the help of an ANBU or two, Tsunade learns that tensions in the Haruno household have peaked.
According to a few casual comments uttered by Sakura, Mebuki and Kizashi never truly approved of her career choice. She waves away concerns left and right, always changes the subject when it comes up. Tsunade told Shizune to offer Sakura a spare room at some point until eventually the girl basically moved in with them. Silence is a thing of the past after that. Sakura doesn't like the silence. She withdraws when no sound is there to distract her, her eyes darken and she gets lost in her own head. Shizune makes sure the sake never runs out and Tsunade drinks more than usual to coax herself into a joyous mood.
Except tonight Sakura doesn't speak, doesn't react to anything, only silently moves her food around. Tsunade exchanges a single look with Shizune who then clears her throat and forces a soft smile on her lips.
“So, how was your day Sakura?” The girl looks up, startled, before going blank once more. She shrugs, then moves a piece of chicken to her mouth.
“Alright,” she replies and takes an entire minute to chew before swallowing the bite. She doesn't reach for more. Then-
“Why won't you let me do it?” She doesn't look at Tsunade so the blonde allows herself a moment to close her eyes.
“You think I'm fragile. Everyone else gets to do it. Why do I have to be left behind again?” Sakura murmurs more to herself than either of the older women. In the silence of the dining room, her words are clearly audible nevertheless. Tsunade grits her teeth then forces herself to relax. No matter how much she wants to avoid this conversation, it has to happen.
“There's no rush. Nobody in your year is even close to making jounin.” She tries rationality first which Sakura responds to best. Usually, that is. Dull green eyes look up and they're so empty Tsunade resists the urge to clench her fists.
“Sasuke can barely train without throwing up the second he sees blood. Naruto scratches his skin raw every night. Ino is on medication and barely speaks. Lee lands himself in the hospital every day, Tenten resigned from active duty, NOBODY IS FINE!” Sakura yells, fingertips digging into the wooden table. She breathes heavily for a second, then abruptly withdraws her hands and falls silent once more. It's a mild outburst as far as Sakura's rage goes. She gets them from time to time and it's a miracle she hasn't accidentally hurt Shizune yet.
“I am responsible for you and I don't think you're ready. The stress the process puts on your body and mind... it could break you. For good.” Sakura clenches her jaw so hard Tsunade hears the creaking of her bones. She's quiet, then looks up with fire in her eyes.
“You wouldn't break me.” Silence. Tsunade's breath stops as she's caught off-guard by what the girl implies. With a snap, time resumes and Tsunade doesn't notice she got out of her chair until she's already standing.
“No.” It's a hard no, one that allows no room for discussion. She won't. Refuses to. Would never. With all her might, Tsunade pushes down the itch to rage at the girl for even putting her in this position. For daring to try and do this to her. Then, she remembers Sakura's fragmented state of being and swallows the anger.
“And never ask me again,” she growls before stomping away and retreating into her bedroom where she smashes a stupid glass ornament.
“Fucking bitch,” Tsunade curses quietly, then drinks until she passes out.
“Shizune? Have you seen Sakura?” Tsunade doesn't look up from the letter she's currently writing. It's not an easy task. She's been on edge all day ever since she woke up with an odd feeling in her stomach. She's nervous, easily distracted and her damn hand won't stop shaking. A mixture of nervosity and sheer energy thrums beneath Tsunade's skin and it's this close to driving her insane.
“Hm... not yet. But her shift only ended a few minutes ago. Perhaps she met up with her team.” A feeble excuse and they both know it. Sakura avoids her team like the plague. Her infatuation with the Uchiha turned into smoke and ashes as trauma began taking her over. Tsunade's not entirely sure what issues her apprentice has with the blonde brat but she runs from him whenever she so much as spots his hair in the crowd. The only reason she knows what they're up to at all is due to her recent yet undeniably close friendship with the Hyuuga girl.
“I give her ten more minutes. Then I'll go look for her.” And drag her back to have dinner, goes unsaid. The girl likes to run off and hide in clubs or bars. She hasn't taken to drinking, not yet, and fuck if Tsunade isn't grateful for that. Sakura needs the noise and the people around her. Distraction. She dreads the day the girl decides that waking up in a stranger's bed is the best way to keep the demons at bay. The last thing that one needs is to develop the same unhealthy coping mechanisms that kept Tsunade going for decades.
“I'm technically done for the day. I can-”
“Hokage-sama!” Both women look up at the chuunin that stands in the doorway, breathing heavily. The man looks harried and judging from the way Tsunade's skin positively vibrates, she wonders if now finally the other shoe is going to drop. He holds a piece of paper in his hand and approaches her quickly, handing her the document.
“The list for the TRT candidates. The process was rescheduled three times and they already started two hours ago. I'm sorry for the delay but nobody thought it necessary to inform me earlier,” the man explains with a faint red blush on his cheeks and Tsunade is just about to wave him away, when her eyes slide over the list and her heart stops.
“That fucking kid!” she snarls, then drops the list as she almost jumps out of her chair.
“Tsunade-sama?” Shizune asks before her instincts kick in and she follows Tsunade. She's just on the verge of breaking into a sprint, but Tsunade grits her teeth and forces herself not to run through the village like a maniac.
“How the fuck is Haruno's name on that list?” she demands from the man who can barely keep up with her, suppressing the urge to violently beat his head into a wall until he answers.
“Um.. w- wouldn't you know?” he asks and all Tsunade can do is roar like a frenzied animal. That stupid idiot tries to get herself ruined while she and Shizune work overtime to make sure she's fine. Oh, that brat is in a world of trouble and if it takes Tsunade beating her on a training ground within an inch of her miserable life, then by the Will of Fire, she will do it!
“I, um, I think she had parental permission...” Tsunade is sure she cracks more than just one of her teeth when she clenches her jaw shut. Parental permission. She wonders just what kind of lie the brat told her parents or if they simply don't care enough about their daughter's obvious post-traumatic stress syndrome. Whatever the reason, Tsunade is too furious to care. And not only at Sakura. Of course, that one would be sneaky enough to look for a loophole and damn Tsunade for not thinking of it herself.
Tsunade storms into the T&I building like a woman ready for war. She ignores the desk chuunin, brushes past men and women in grey and ignores the jounin attempting to follow protocol and ask for identification codes. When the doors don't open in time, she kicks them down. Any other day Shizune would scold her. Today, the dark-haired woman's eyes are blazing with the silent yet deadly fury she calls her own.
“What the shit is that noise, we're trying to haze some chuunin here-” Mitarashi is brushed aside, protest silenced as soon as she lays a single eye on Tsunade.
“Where the hell is my apprentice?!” she demands and the purple-haired tokujo merely points at a closed door at the end of the hall.
“She's just getting started,” the woman adds and Tsunade takes a single step, unintentionally causing the entire building to shake.
“Fucking hell,” Mitarashi curses but Tsunade is already on her way. She's fury, she's rage, she's war and when she throws that door open, as thick as a person and crafted from pure steel, she pulls it off its hinges and leaves a dent in the floor when she drops it.
What she sees in front of her clouds her gaze, turns her vision red, fills her with the kind of wrath that has her conquer battlefields. There is the kid, tied to the wall, stripped to her underwear and in front of her is Ibiki, an assortment of various torture devices on a table next to him. Tsunade's eyes search Sakura's body and when they see old scars next to new red lines, she forgets herself.
They don't talk. Sakura is still there, Tsunade knows this because she knows the little shit inside out and even though her sensory capabilities are weak, Shizune and Sakura are two she knows by heart. The kid is around. But Tsunade doesn't see her, doesn't hear her, doesn't get any hint that she's alive. And if she's being entirely honest to herself, it's probably for the best. She doesn't trust herself to have enough self-control to avoid a repeat of that utter disaster a few days ago.
And fuck. What a disaster. She sighs and buries her face in her hands, rubs her eyes, doesn't dare look in the mirror. Her vision is blurry but it takes her only a second of less than careful deliberation to reach for one of the countless bottles on her desk and empty it with a single swig. She hasn't been sober once for the past week. That, too, is probably for the best.
The sun set hours ago and the window to leave the office and go home for the day has long since passed. Countless papers and documents litter her desk, the ink in her pen is dry. She hasn't done any actual work all day. The backlog is massive. Shizune would probably scold her but Shizune is watching over the kid because Tsunade can't.
The bottle falls from her grasp as her fingers relax, hits the ground with a soft thud. The sound echoes around the room, the only noise to be heard aside from her own breathing. She dismissed the ANBU earlier. She hasn't moved since, slouching in her chair, head tilted backwards, staring at the ceiling.
“Fuck this job,” Tsunade mutters quietly to herself, feeling every single one of her years in her bones, tired and spent. She's too old for this. There's plenty of things she's too much for this. She's not like Sarutobi who spent his twilight years bent over this desk until it inevitably killed him. He didn't care enough and that was what made him so good at it. Tsunade cares too much.
A tentative knock pulls her from her thoughts. She's tempted to ignore it. If it was important there would be a mask in front of her and anyone else has no business still being in this tower at this hour. Another knock. Tsunade's head swivels around and for a single moment she considers not giving in. She does, in the end. With her system cleansed of alcohol, the world is less bright and she already wishes she was drunk again.
“Come in,” she calls. She was mistaken, she thinks, as gravity-defying hair and muddy boots slouch into her office. It's a mask after all. The man pauses for a moment before reaching up to remove it from his face. Technically it's against protocol but it's not like either of them ever gave a shit about protocol.
“Godaime-sama,” Hatake greets her with dull eyes. He's tired. The bone-deep exhaustion that has become second nature to the man shows on his skin. Tsunade briefly considers telling him to go to the hospital before discarding the idea almost immediately. Getting Hatake to a medic is an uphill battle and she can't be fucked to deal with that right now.
“You're early,” Tsunade comments and really, that's a first. Hatake shrugs, fingers clutching the mask so tightly she wonders which is going to break first.
“The mission went smoothly. Mitsuhide won't be a problem anymore.” Tiny droplets of red decorate the vest of his ANBU uniform and Tsunade nods. Sometimes she wonders which is worse. Committing one murder after another or being the one who makes the call in the first place. She does this damn job that she never wanted only to realise that her intentions never meant shit. In the end, she's no different from Sarutobi.
“See a doctor.” She says it anyway. Hatake is going to ignore the order, he knows it, she knows it, and he knows that she knows. He still nods but doesn't leave. Instead, he lingers. Usually, Tsunade waits until that emotionally crippled mess works his way towards admitting what bothers him. Tonight, she has no patience left to spare.
“What do you want?” she asks, not unkindly, but she wants Hatake out of her office so she can drown in her own misery some more. He shuffles awkwardly and avoids her eyes.
“I... Sakura. How is she?” Fuck's sake. Oh, she doesn't want to deal with this. But there he stands, like a wet dog left out in the rain and Tsunade remembers that while his other two kids are just as fucked up, at least they almost cling to their former sensei. Sakura avoids everyone she ever knew and she's the one he always worried about the most.
“Well shit, Hatake. I don't know what to tell you,” she says and rubs her forehead. Tsunade allows herself a second to sigh, then returns her attention to him. He looks like he knows exactly what her answer implies.
“That kid is determined to crash and burn. Therapy doesn't do shit for her because she refuses to talk. Heavens know I have no idea what goes through that one's head,” Tsunade mumbles towards the end before reaching up to rub her temples. There's a lot of anger inside Tsunade and most of it is directed at herself. She's a medic, THE medic, but she doesn't know how to fix this, doesn't know how to fix Sakura and she's sick of watching those around her crumble to pieces because she's let them down.
“She doesn't want to talk to me either.” Hatake's voice is little more than a whisper and when she looks at him he's small, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The war has taken a toll on him too but this? This, he takes personally. Despite his failings as a teacher, he considers the kids his and when Sakura runs away from him it is rejection of the highest order.
“Yeah. Same.” It's hard not to feel like a failure when someone you care about keeps falling and you can't catch them. Hatake lingers for another moment before the anxiety gets to him and he's off to the memorial stone. Tsunade stays behind, reaches for another bottle and stares out of the window until the sun goes up.
“I'm going to move out.” The kid stands in front of her, eyes hard, lips pressed into a thin line. It's the first thing she's said to Tsunade in a week.
“No.” Sakura is an adult and can do what she wants so Tsunade's refusal has no legal ground to stand on. It's still the first thing that enters her mind and leaves her mouth through grit teeth. No matter how strained their relationship has become at least like this Shizune can keep an eye on the girl, make sure she eats and takes her damn sleeping pills.
“I'm not a damn child. I can do what I want,” Sakura says with a bite to her words that makes Tsunade's fingers twitch. She can feel the blood in her veins begin to boil as her temper rises. A sharp pain races through her jaw but she presses down even harder to reign it in. They're a terrible combination because they're too damn similar. Tsunade taught that kid to be like her and fuck if she doesn't regret it.
“You can't even take care of yourself!” she hisses because she has shit impulse control and she's so fucking done with looking at Sakura and seeing nothing more than a broken mess she can't repair. It's the wrong thing to say. Tsunade knows the second she's done speaking. Sakura's eyes go dark and her face slack. For a moment, nobody speaks a word. Then, Sakura looks up, empty and dead to the world.
“You're not my mother.” For the fraction of a second, all air leaves Tsunade's lungs. When it returns, it brings the fury. A small voice in her head asks her why she's even angry. She never tried to replace her mother or provide the function of one. Tsunade has no motherly instincts to speak of but the way the kid utters those words, as if she rejects everything Tsunade has ever done for her, as if she rejects her in her entirety. She forces her teeth to part and digs her nails into her palms to refrain from lashing out before almost growling:
“No. I'm not. But you're my apprentice and I care-”
“I DON'T WANT YOU TO!” The sudden volume causes Tsunade to flinch. Suddenly, in stark contrast to before, Sakura's face is open and vulnerable. Her eyes are glassy and all Tsunade sees is a person held together by razor-thin wire, a fragile construct that is moments away from shattering. She hates it.
“I just... just leave me alone!” Tears roll down Sakura's cheeks and Tsunade is at a loss of words. The first time Sakura shows true emotion and it is the one she is least equipped to handle. Comfort doesn't come natural to her. It never has. And the kid pays the price for it.
“I'm not your fucking child and I'm so done with everyone treating me like I'm made of glass!” Sakura cries and shouts, her voice hoarse and choked. She pauses and takes a deep breath, pressing her fists against her forehead.
“I'm fine, okay?! I'll be fine as soon as I can just... breathe.” She's hyperventilating. Tsunade wants to reach out to regulate her breath but stops herself. It's the response of a medic. Sakura doesn't need a medic, she needs... not her. What Tsunade can offer, Sakura has no use for.
“All you're doing is suffocate me.” The kid shakes her head and turns around, leaves with shaking hands and without looking back. Tsunade stays, her hand still enveloped in the green medical chakra that is all she can do and is still never enough.
“I worry.” Tsunade doesn't miss a beat, signs another letter and places it on one of the various stacks of paper on her desk. 'Of course you do', she thinks. Shizune always worries. It's the only reason she followed her around the Nations for over a decade, happily neglecting her own wants and needs in favour of an old raging alcoholic that was meant to be the one taking care of her.
“She's getting worse,” Shizune murmurs. Tsunade doesn't want to hear it. It's not like she can do anything about it. The kid was quite clear last time they spoke. She doesn't want help. And maybe it's better that way. Short of foisting the kid onto a therapist and making sure her body is taken care of properly, there's little Tsunade can do.
“She shows up on time looking like she hasn't slept in weeks and does her work like someone else is controlling her. It's little more than muscle memory... she's stuck inside her own head. I think she only comes to work so she doesn't have to stare at the walls of her apartment all day.” Grief and worry colour every single word Shizune speaks. The sound is almost unbearable. Tsunade signs another letter and ignores the urge to reach for one of the bottles under her desk. Putting in the work and doing her job has been getting harder lately. She can't afford to drink, not when she's days behind her usual workload.
“She's like a ghost. Her skin is so pale she looks like she's sick.” Shizune's voice wavers and Tsunade wishes she didn't pick up on it. Heavens know that kid is like a little sister to Shizune who has a tendency to look for those who need help but aren't ready to admit it yet. She's only thankful that Sakura yelled at her instead of Shizune. Tsunade is used to letting people down. Shizune isn't.
“Tsunade-sama.” The urgency in her voice makes Tsuande look up from the papers in front of her. Shizune is a grown woman but she grew up with Tsunade as her only caretaker. No matter how old, Shizune will never outgrow the fact that the only person vaguely resembling a maternal figure in her life, is Tsunade. No matter how old Shizune is, the small kid that bruised her knees and cried while Tsunade healed the wound, is still stuck inside her head.
“She's so thin.” She looks at her like she's supposed to do something about it. Like she's supposed to have the answer. The one person that is closest to her, that should be disillusioned the most, is the one whose faith is as unwavering and endless as the ocean. Most days, Shizune is perfectly aware that Tsunade is an addict that prefers to run from her problems instead of facing them.
Days like these, Shizune looks at Tsunade and all she sees is the last remnant of the Senju, the legendary third of the sannin, miracle worker, Godaime fucking Hokage. Tsunade is all of that but more than anything else, she is exhausted. She feels like she has given everything to the world and all that is left for herself is crushing regret and a never-ending sense of disappointment in everything and everyone.
“The kid made her opinion quite clear,” she says, duller than intended before averting her eyes to return her attention to her duties. She can't help Shizune, not with this, but that doesn't mean she has to stick around to watch realisation sink in.
“She's an adult. She can take care of herself.” Tsunade doesn't believe anything she says, merely echoes what Sakura spat at her weeks ago. She has nothing to say on the issue. No solution to the problem. It takes someone like Shizune to help someone off the ground. Tsunade is nothing like Shizune.
“You... are just giving up on her?” Shizune asks as if she doesn't think Tsunade capable of such a thing. She turns around then, faces Shizune because she has to draw a line here. The woman needs to understand where she's gone wrong.
“She doesn't want my help. She said so to my face. If she falls ill, I will treat her. If she wants to continue working, I will let her. If she wants a mission, she can have it.” She talks like she's issuing orders to her ANBU, hiding behind a mask of professionalism that's so ill-fitting it's tragic.
“But that's all I can do. I'm not who you think I am. I'm not a miracle worker and certainly not a therapist.” She could stop there. It's enough. But something in Shizune's face that Tsunade couldn't name even if she tried, has her utter the rest anyway.
“You, out of all people, really should know better.” Shizune's eyes are wide and she looks at Tsunade as if she were a stranger. Then, without saying a single word and her lips pressed together so tightly they lose all colour, she whirls around and storms out of the office. Tsunade stares after her and violently squashes the tightness forming in her chest. It's for the better. Shizune can't go the rest of her life expecting people to be someone they're not.
Tsunade signs another letter, reaches for one of the bottles underneath her desk and knocks it back. The rest of the day passes in a blur. When she comes home that night, Shizune isn't there but that's fine. Instead of having dinner with her, Tsunade drinks until she passes out.
It was just a matter of time, Tsunade thinks darkly as she's faced with the two relics that really missed the appropriate time frame for passing from this world onto the next. It's the fourth day in a row that has her stay in the tower instead of going home to sleep in an effort to try and do all the work she neglected.
It's nearly impossible for Tsunade to motivate herself so she removes any and all temptation by not leaving the building. If she were to go home she would only slink into the first bar she comes across, making the problem a hundred times worse. The chair is terrible to nap on for even a single hour per night but she did this to herself by accepting the hat in the first place so she has to bear the consequences.
“Your conduct is unprofessional and your work ethic practically non-existent,” Mitokado drones on, giving off the distinct impression of an academy teacher lecturing a student on their missing homework. Tsunade doesn't appreciate the comparison.
“You were aware of the responsibilities when you accepted the position. You are weeks behind the current schedule which is unacceptable,” Utatane chimes in, seamlessly continuing where the other one left off.
“If the situation does not improve, we will be forced to take action.” It's meant to be a threat though it's hard to take either of them seriously. Tsunade never cared for authority and what little power those two imagine themselves to have over her means nothing in the face of her absolute lack of desire for keeping the hat.
It's nothing more than a stray thought, and yet it sticks. She stares at the mountain of paper both on and next to the desk on the floor. This is what she does. She sits in this office every day, signing letters, writing documents and treaties, issuing one kill order after another. When she goes home at night she drinks, sleeps for a few short hours, then does the whole thing again.
She can't stand it. Tsunade hates her fucking job. She can't even remember why she accepted it in the first place. An image of Naruto flashes in front of her inner eye, followed by one of Nawaki and Dan.
Oh, right. A stupid idealistic little kid that thought being a paper pusher was the be-all and end-all of one's existence. He inspired her back then, instilled a sense of loyalty and responsibility in her that she'd lost long ago. It worked well enough, for a while. It was enough until she dragged herself through yet another war and then suddenly, it wasn't.
This village kills people. It killed Nawaki and it killed Dan. It killed her grandfather, the entirety of her family and now... Now Tsunade has become exactly what took everything she loved and drove her into exile. Now it is Tsunade who kills brothers and lovers, grandfathers and families. She thinks of Sakura and the pencil in her hand snaps. Apprentices.
“Do not think we won't find another successor-”
“Do it.” Tsunade's voice is hollow but she raises her head and meets their eyes. They're both quiet now, stare at her in disbelief.
“Do it,” she repeats, not once stopping to think.
“Find me a successor.” Utatane and Mitokado exchange a single glance. Tsunade cares little for their silent conversation. She returns to her paperwork, keeping any and all thoughts locked up until she's alone and can afford to have them.
“Tsunade-hime, you can't mean to-” She interrupts him without looking up.
“I do. Leave now. And find another idiot to do the job.” Her hands tremble but she keeps them carefully controlled until both elders have left the office. Once the door falls shut, Tsunade releases a single shuddering breath before leaning back in her chair, feeling the weight on her shoulders lighten for the first time since she set foot back in this godforsaken village.
She's in the middle of an argument with one of the daimyo's ambassadors when it happens. Tsunade has the mother of all headaches and the desire to take this man and throw him through the wall grows with each passing second. Politics are a nightmare and she can't wait for the day that she loses the damn hat finally comes.
She's just about to lose her patience and snap at him that they can't spare half a platoon of high-ranking ninja just so they can look good at the daimyo's parade when her door is thrown open. A harried-looking chuunin stumbles inside, catching his breath before saying two sentences that make Tsunade's world go dark.
“There's been an emergency. Haruno-san is in surgery.”
She runs before she even fully realises that she's doing it. Shinobi get injured all the time. Most wounds are easily treated and taken care of. But all Tsunade can think of is that Sakura is stationed inside the village, has a number of mental health issues ranging from severe PTSD to depression and that those she loves always get taken from her.
She bursts through the doors of the hospital and barks at the nurses, demanding to know where she is, what happened and who is in charge of her surgery. Tsunade doesn't wait for an answer. She doesn't stop, forcing the nurse reporting to her to run alongside, delivering the details between one breath and the next.
“Haruno-san failed to come to work today so Shizune-sama went looking for her. She found her in her apartment, unconscious and with cutting wounds on both wrists. Shizune-sama said...” The nurse trails off but Tsunade knows exactly what she's going to say next.
“... she said they were self-inflicted.” Red flashes in front of Tsunade's eyes and she remembers her hands stuck in Dan's open chest cavity, desperately trying to keep him alive-
She clenches her jaw and banishes those thoughts from her mind. Later. She is a professional. There's enough time to lose her mind later.
“Who does the surgery?” Tsunade can barely speak with how hard she bites her teeth, slipping into the headspace of a medic rather than that of an old woman who is fucking terrified.
“Shizune-sama,” the nurse answers as Tsunade barges into the prep area of the only emergency room whose outside light glows red. She moves her hands through her hair and gets it out of her face, drops her bracelet into the sink and grabs a set of rubber gloves.
“I'm taking over,” she declares, dropping her haori on an empty table. The nurse nods, then scurries out of the room to notify Shizune. Tsunade doesn't waste a single second and follows. She doesn't interact with the assisting medics, spares Shizune no further thought. She enters the operating room, takes a single look at the patient and gets to work. She's a medic. It's all she is but at least this once, it's enough.
The surgery is over soon. The wounds were already healed by the time Tsunade took charge but what remains is the taxing task of combating the massive loss of blood. Stimulating the body and coaxing it into mass-producing blood is something generally not advised due to the enormous amounts of chakra needed. Tsunade herself forbids it unless there is absolutely no other way.
She ignores her own rules and pumps her chakra into her patient's body, feeling the energy drain from her body. Despite that she keeps going until colour returns to pale skin and it's like she never lost any blood to begin with. She leaves the assistants to it then, exits the room, discards the gloves and washes her hands. Tsunade gathers her haori and leaves the hospital, not stopping until she reaches her home.
The door falls shut behind her and when it does her hands go slack and the haori falls onto the floor. Tsunade leans against the wall, slides down as her strength leaves her, drops her forehead onto her knees and weeps.
Sakura is fine. It's what Shizune tells her at least. Tsunade hasn't gone to see her. She's not sure if she doesn't want to or if she can't. The whole village is in an uproar because everyone knows Sakura and everyone loves her. Countless shinobi owe her their lives, even civilian families have been treated by her many times.
Too many people want to know what happened, too many people look at Tsunade and expect her to do or say something. She's the Hokage after all. More than that, Sakura is her apprentice. They even lived together for almost a whole year. It's what Naruto yells when he storms into her office, distraught and crying, looking for someone to blame because the alternative would break his heart.
Tsunade lets him. He rages and screams, breaks a chair and the door until the Uchiha shows up and takes him away. Throughout the entire ordeal, Tsunade sits still, stone-faced and silent. He calls her a monster for it and she lets it wash over her. The boy almost lost his best friend to suicide. He needs this and because it's the only thing she can give him, she gives it gladly. He says it's her fault. Tsunade silently agrees.
Hatake never shows. ANBU says he's glued to the memorial stone so she assigns him a watcher while placing his name on the 'at risk' list, right next to Sakura's. Then, she moves on. Does her paperwork. Signs more letters. Listens to the elders. Drinks until she falls asleep. She's dimly aware of what she's doing. Knows she's running in the only way she can while being stuck in this village. Shizune notices but never calls her out on it. It's better this way.
A month passes and everything stays quiet. Tsunade learns from Shizune that Sakura willingly signed up for therapy again and this time, seems to be making an effort. She's not yet allowed back to full-time duty but helps out in the children's ward. Naruto, the Uchiha and Hatake closed their ranks around her, not letting her get away with avoiding them anymore.
The council is still breathing down her neck but since Tsunade hardly leaves the office anymore she gets a decent amount of work done which gets them off her back, if only temporarily. Not much longer, she tells herself, just one more day. If she takes fewer visitors, nobody points it out. If she doesn't personally hand out missions to the lower ranks anymore, nobody talks about it. If she drinks herself under the table every night, only the ANBU above her head are there to witness it.
Sakura doesn't come to see her either. Tsunade doesn't expect her to. She has nothing to offer and the kid knows it. She's bouncing back and that's all that matters. And it's not like Tsunade is going anywhere. She's right here, on stand-by, ready to do the only thing she can do while praying every night that she won't need to.
A week later, she gets to go home for the night for the first time in forever. Tsunade isn't exactly thrilled about it but maybe sleeping in a real bed will grant her some measure of peace that the chair can't provide. She barely takes the time to clean up after herself and leaves a trail of shoes and jacket on the way to the kitchen.
Shizune's working the night shift so there's no one around to throw a disapproving glance at the sheer army of sake Tsunade drags out from one of her many hideaways. Shizune's habit of discarding alcohol thankfully doesn't extend to the house they live in but Tsunade is a creature of habit. She's just about to lie down on the couch and drown her sorrows when she hears the faint sound of a fist tentatively meeting the wood of her front door.
“Fucking hell,” she murmurs, briefly considering just ignoring whoever it is that dares visit her at this time. The last shreds of responsibility and awareness of her position in this village make Tsunade get up anyway. She shuffles towards the door and, not caring to wipe her annoyance off her face, opens it.
On the doorstep, drenched from the rain pouring outside and with red eyes and red wrists, stands Sakura.
“I- I'm not okay,” she whispers before collapsing in Tsunade's arms, salty tears mixing with the rain streaming down her face.
“You can't do this! This is insanity!” Utatane's face is so red it makes her look like a vegetable. Mitokado isn't looking much better. Tsunade cares little for either.
“I told you to find a successor,” she speaks calmly as she stands in the middle of her office. The door is open, allowing their conversation to trickle down the stairs into the foyer of the Hokage tower where a fair number of shinobi go about their daily business. It's only going to help her, gives the council one less leg to stand on.
“We expected to have at least another year, possibly two. This is far too soon,” Mitokado insists, causing Tsunade to raise her brows.
“Doesn't sound like it's my problem,” she points out, prompting another round of heated arguments coming from both elders. Tsunade stands her ground. This day was going to come sooner or later and she has reached her limit. She's done. With everything.
“You are the Godaime Hokage! You cannot simply resign because you feel like it!” By now news will have reached the jounin HQ. They're a gossipy bunch and by noon the whole village will know. There's no chance the elders can spin this into anything else, make public opinion work for them. Tsunade sold her decision as a done deal. She's not going to take it back.
“I have cited multiple reasons which have led to my decision. The council had ample warning beforehand that I was looking to pass on the hat. Finding a successor was one of your favourite threats which has led me to believe you had one in mind.” She hates that kind of talk but in meeting the elders on their own ground she takes all wind out of their sails. While they make the final call, it's not them Tsunade has to convince. If she seems reasonable enough the jounin advisors will be on her side, easily outnumbering those two who seem dead-set on arguing her to death.
“Even if we did, they aren't ready. There needs to be at least a six month period of mentorship and intense training under your guidance to prepare-”
“Shizune can do it.” Shizune will do it. That was decided two days ago, hours after Sakura fell asleep, sent into oblivion by Tsunade once her wounds were healed.
“While we won't deny that Kato-san has performed admirably as your assistant she's not qualified to stand in for you. The village cannot be without a kage, we need to at least appoint an interim Hokage-”
“Appoint Shizune.” That was not part of the discussion they had but Tsunade knows Shizune is more than up to the task. Heavens know that woman has shouldered more than her fair share of Tsunade's duties over the years. If anything, she is overqualified to be an assistant.
“With all due respect-” Tsunade raises her hand, interrupting Utatane before she's able to gain momentum.
“Shizune has been my assistant for the entire duration of my kageship. She is intimately familiar with the daily ins and outs of the profession. Her risk and priority assessment are both excellent and she has much more patience for posturing diplomats, nobles and daimyo.” She refuses to budge. It's over and because it matters, Tsunade will stay until the elders accept her decision instead of her simply walking out on them. She may not care for the job or protocol but some things deserve to be done properly.
“You would sacrifice the good of the village for the sake of your apprentice? There are plenty qualified counselors and therapists to aid Haruno,” Utatane points out. Tsunade simply looks at her and says:
“She needs me. That is all that matters.”
“The village needs its kage!” Tsunade gently shakes her head.
“The village needs a kage that actually wants to do the job. I haven't wanted to do it for a long time.” It's the first time she's entirely honest with them and, to an extent, the shinobi that listen in on their conversation. Her lack of motivation, frequent drunkenness, all of that could be attributed to plenty of reasons. Excuses were made countless times, naming her addictions, general attitude or even her temper as reasons for why her performance wasn't always up to par. Some might have guessed the true nature of Tsunade's poor showing as kage but she never outright said that she simply doesn't want to be Konoha's kage.
“You are being unreasonable-” She doesn't let him finish.
“I've done my part. I gave this village the best years of my life and I refuse to spend the rest of my days bowed over this desk like Sarutobi did.” Perhaps her words are cruel, colder than called for. Sarutobi took the hat twice, giving up peaceful retirement, a relationship with his family and even his soul for the good of the village. But there had always been one crucial difference between Tsunade and her former teacher.
“He loved Konoha enough to die for it. I don't.” With those final words, Tsunade brings her point home. There won't be any future arguments. It's over. She walks around them and leaves the office for the last time, leaving the hat behind on the desk along with the weight on her shoulders, at last able to breathe properly once more.
“Are you sure we can do this?” Sakura's voice is small as she stands next to Tsunade, close enough to touch. She's wrapped in a warm scarf over her jacket and wears long standard-issue pants instead of her usual skirt. Winter is just around the corner and the nights are cold.
“If you don't want to, this is your last chance.” It's not an easy call. Tsunade doesn't expect Sakura to treat it as such. But she also trusts her to realise that it is very much a last resort. There are other options; plenty of them, but Tsunade was at this point before and knows exactly how it plays out. In the end, she always taught this kid to be like her so it really isn't a surprise that they find themselves where they currently are.
“It's not that I don't want to. It's just...” Sakura trails off and hugs her backpack like it's a toy. She's shivering so Tsunade reaches into her own pack, pulls out an extra cloak and places it over her shoulders. While Sakura is capable of using chakra circulation to warm her body she can't do it without masking her signature. And anyone spotting them would cause complications nobody wants to deal with.
“I'm scared.” Tsunade understands. When it was her, decades ago in this exact situation, hurt and rage drove her to commit without thinking about it. Sakura is different in that regard. There's no anger left in her, neither is there pain so hot and searing, it burns her alive. Sakura's pain is quietly eating away at her and turns her into a shell of who she used to be.
“It's your call,” Tsunade says and means it. Sakura doesn't reply. She looks at the shapes and forms of the buildings all around her as if trying to burn Konoha's nighttime silhouette into her memory. She's no longer shivering and when she doesn't move the fragility of her limbs and the paleness of her skin make her look like a ghost. Tsunade remembers a time when she looked like that too.
“Let's go.” The murmur is so soft, Tsunade barely hears it. But Sakura turns around and begins walking towards the gates that aren't manned because Shizune left a fifteen minute gap between guard rotations.
“You won't be able to come back.” It's her responsibility to make sure Sakura gets it. It's not that Tsunade thinks she doesn't; Sakura is exceptionally bright and well aware of the consequences of their actions. Sakura is also in a state of mind that doesn't tend to make completely rational decisions. She turns around and meets Tsunade's eyes before giving a tiny nod.
“I know.” She watches her carefully, waits for a single heartbeat, giving Sakura one last chance to change her mind. She doesn't so Tsunade joins her and they resume their walk. Moments before they step through the gates and pass the invisible border that separates Konoha from the rest of the world, Sakura pauses.
“I haven't even told them. They will worry so much-” Her voice thickens and she clears her throat, eyes suspiciously wet.
“I should leave notes. Or something.” There's no conviction in her voice, nothing that convinces Tsunade that Sakura actually wants to do anything other than doing what she thinks she ought to.
“Do you want to?” she asks and waits patiently until Sakura looks her in the eyes and utters a single hushed whisper:
“No.” If she waits for judgment or not isn't clear to Tsunade but she accepts her answer all the same.
“Then don't.” She takes a single look at the moon as her ears pick up the faint sound of approaching shinobi.
“Come on. We're out of time.” Sakura nods and together they pass through the gates, disappearing into the night. No alarms are raised, no shinobi follow them, nothing happens at all. The world is silent as Sakura and Tsunade run through the woods, leaving behind the village and racing towards an unknown destination.
When the moon has reached its zenith the shadows shift and, for the fraction of a second, reveal two almost invisible shades that follow them, matching their every step. On the left is a young blonde woman whose pigtails drift in the wind. And on the right is a young girl with short dark hair that holds onto the woman's hand, trusting her to lead her to a brighter future.