Dusk
Tsunade walked listlessly along the streets of Konoha, her head lowered. Two boys followed quietly behind her.
The girl's usually sleek, glossy high ponytail was messy today, its shine dulled. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears, and the occasional soft sob escaped her lips—clear proof that Konoha's little princess was in the worst of moods.
Jiraiya dropped his head as well. Seeing the girl he loved in such pain, he didn't dare approach her, only trailing behind in silence, hoping his presence alone might mean something.
Orochimaru looked even paler than usual.
He understood Tsunade's pain all too well. His own parents had also died in this brutal war.
More perceptive than most, Orochimaru knew that Tsunade didn't just need comfort right now—she needed companionship. But the few words of consolation he knew were pitifully inadequate, nowhere near Jiraiya's silver tongue.
Unfortunately, Jiraiya was acting like a coward at the very moment he should have stepped up—shrinking back like a turtle retreating into its shell.
Then I'll do the same, Orochimaru thought. I'll just walk with her.
As a teammate—
He would stay.
Lost in thought, Orochimaru suddenly noticed Tsunade turn around. She forced a fragile smile, tears trembling at the edge of her eyes. The way she struggled to hold back her grief was heartbreaking.
Seeing that smile—more painful than crying itself—Jiraiya finally couldn't hold back any longer.
"Tsunade… you know how villagers are. They love to gossip. The Hokage-sama is so powerful—there's no way he could—"
Before the word die could leave his mouth, Tsunade interrupted him. She was terrified of hearing it.
"Second Grandpa is the Hokage," she said through sobs. "Even Grandpa is usually scared of him. He's so strong—nothing could happen to him."
"He knows so many forbidden techniques… Water Release, Fire Release…"
She rambled on, trying desperately to convince herself of something—of anything. But it didn't last.
Her tears finally broke through like a collapsed dam, pouring out uncontrollably. She hurriedly choked out a "See you tomorrow," then turned and ran home without looking back.
A girl's pride forced her to stay strong in front of her companions.
She was, after all, the Hokage's granddaughter.
In no time at all, Tsunade vanished from Jiraiya and Orochimaru's sight.
"Jiraiya," Orochimaru said coldly, "why didn't you say something earlier?"
Watching Jiraiya stand there in a daze, Orochimaru couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration. The same boy who once begged him to play the villain so he could stage a heroic rescue—now, at the most critical moment, he'd turned into a block of wood.
"I… I…" Jiraiya stammered, unable to form a sentence.
He had wanted to say something. Do something.
But for some reason, his mind had gone blank, as if his soul had slipped right out of his body.
"Tch."
Useless.
Orochimaru sneered inwardly, then turned and walked away toward his own home, no longer bothering him.
The street was left with only Jiraiya.
Under the fading glow of the sunset, his shadow stretched long and thin. He stood there for a while, stunned, before finally snapping out of his failure.
Jiraiya walked home alone, his thoughts a tangled mess. One comforting phrase after another surfaced in his mind—
All too late.
Senju Compound
Tsunade rushed past the gates of the Senju compound, sobbing as she ran, desperate to reach her grandmother.
Grandma Uzumaki Mito would know.
She had to know what had happened to Second Grandpa.
The moment Tsunade entered, she saw that familiar flash of red.
Uzumaki Mito sat at the table, dishes laid out neatly before her.
"Grandma… Grandma…"
"People in the village said that Second Grandpa, he—"
Tears streamed freely down Tsunade's face as she threw herself into Mito's arms, unable to finish the sentence.
Mito held her gently, patting her back in slow, soothing motions. Sorrow welled up in her own chest, tears glistening in her eyes as countless thoughts flashed through her mind.
The news of Tobirama's death leaked already?
Who did it? Sarutobi Hiruzen? Shimura Danzo? Uchiha Kagami?
Faces passed one by one through her thoughts.
But above all—
My poor granddaughter…
"Did Second Grandpa really die?" Tsunade asked, lifting her tear-soaked face to look at Mito.
Mito wanted—desperately—to say no.
To say it was all just rumors.
But she couldn't.
The truth was fire. Lies were paper. No paper could ever wrap a flame.
She couldn't hide this from Tsunade. Lying now would only cause deeper wounds later.
Better sharp pain than prolonged suffering.
Mito looked at her granddaughter with aching tenderness. A thousand words crossed her mind before she finally spoke:
"Tsunade… you're the Hokage's granddaughter. Do you remember what your grandfathers used to tell you?"
"At any time… you must be strong."
"Grandma will always be by your side."
Tsunade's eyes widened.
The last thread of hope snapped.
Her sobs grew louder, more desperate, tears flowing without end.
Mito could do nothing but hold her, softly comforting her again and again.
The sun sank beyond the horizon.
The moon rose above Konoha, its pale light spilling across the streets—but reflecting only a handful of silhouettes. Streets that were usually lively deep into the night were nearly empty.
In just one afternoon, thanks to the Uchiha's tireless efforts, news of Senju Tobirama's death had spread through Konoha like a virus—at a speed never seen before.
The Hokage was dead.
The man who had led them through the First Shinobi World War, who had brought them victory—had fallen at the border during peace negotiations, just before a long-awaited era of tranquility.
Who had the heart to celebrate now?
Would Konoha's future still be as peaceful and prosperous as its past?
Carrying grief and uncertainty about what lay ahead, villagers shut their doors early.
Inside the Room
Time passed slowly.
Tsunade's crying gradually faded. Exhausted from grief, she finally fell asleep, sorrow following her into her dreams. The tear tracks on her face made it clear those dreams would not be happy ones.
Mito carefully lifted Tsunade onto the bed and tucked her in, every movement cautious, afraid of waking her.
She looked at her sleeping granddaughter and sighed.
For shinobi, life and death were part of the norm. Yet life still went on—just as the sun rose every day.
"Tsunade… you must become stronger," Mito whispered.
She stepped outside, fetched a basin of water, and washed her face.
She had cried for a long time too.
But now, there were things far more important than tears.
The future of Konoha rested squarely on her shoulders.
"Senju Taomu!"
Mito's voice rang out, calm as an ancient well.
Taomu appeared almost instantly. He had been waiting nearby all along—after listening to the crying all night, he wouldn't dare be careless now.
"Go," Mito ordered. "Bring those little brats to me."
"Yes!"
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