Chapter Text
Warning(s): G, major character deaths mentioned
Among the Uzumaki, they had a philosophy that could be likened to the Senju’s Will of Fire or the Uchiha’s Curse of Hatred; the Two Suns based on the legends of Ruomo, Fusang, and the suns that rose and set their way through the sky. Of course, there was a moon, too, known as Shinkiro like the go-between both suns and guided them across the sky.
Among the Uzumaki, its meaning could take many forms and be different to each. The Two Suns could be the beginning of a journey, the journey itself, and the hoped or gotten outcome. For some, it could be the person they were, the person they were presently, or the person they wanted to be. In love or family, it could be two people that meant the most to the person; two lovers, two family members, or a lover and family member.
For Tsunade, her Two Suns had been her grandmother and grandfather as a young child, then her parents; after she’d lost them, though, those suns had become Dan and Nawaki. Hell, there was the longest time when both of her suns had been Jiraiya and Orochimaru before Team Hiruzen—dubbed the Sannin by Hanzō in a mission that had come after the disastrous Uzushiogakure invasion—had fallen apart at the seams.
Jiraiya had left to take care of three children she belatedly realized was one of Fusō’s, an Uzumaki named Nagato she’d been too speechless to say anything before realization had dawned. Orochimaru had been drawn into Danzō’s machinations as a newly-minted agent of Root and Tsunade hadn’t seen him in the light of day for years. They were still her precious comrades she’d been on countless missions on as shinobi and soldiers, but that was before they’d frayed at the seams and Dan alongside Nawaki became her suns.
It was made worse by the fact that Orochimaru had been there when Nawaki had died, and some gruesome part of her had wondered if he’d had some hand in it, too.
Tsunade stood with folded arms over a headstone with Dan’s name, an epitaph she and Shizune had chosen with Minato’s approval as the three had held each other during the funeral that was barely months after Nawaki had died.
Her grandmother, her husband, and her brother. Tsunade didn’t know how the hell she kept it together. That she’d lost so much once Jiraiya had left felt like some awful portent, as if there was so little keeping the so-called Sannin together in the first place.
Gods, what a fucking joke.
On a spring day deceptively beautiful and bright with shoots of tender grasses sprouting wildflowers among the gravestones with lacy green foliage budding from the trees interspersed, it stood in stark contrast to the last Senju with her ruddy skin flushed from crying and the red, raw eyes she blearily watched Shizune deposit a bouquet from Yamanaka Flowers with.
Tsunade unfolded her arms when she was finished, leaving a limp hand for the young Katō to take, though her fingers enclosed the girl’s with the tenderness only family could impart.
“Hey, Tsuna, there you are!”
The blonde turned to the sound of the teenage girl’s voice, Kushina waving enthusiastically to the older woman while little Shizune waved back shyly. Minato stood by her side, Tsunade always aglow at how happy the pair were, informed they were going steady. With Jiraiya’s imminent return, it was a picture Tsunade wouldn’t have to be a part of for much longer, she thought wistfully and with a fractured smile.
“Were you two on your way to a date?” Tsunade teased the Uzumaki who patted Shizune’s head in greeting.
“Something like that,” Kushina beamed despite the faint flush on her cheeks. “Fusō-san offered to help us learn some sealing at the temple, so we’re taking her up on it.”
“I don’t think it’s wrong to call it a date,” Minato remarked from behind, eliciting a stiffness in Kushina’s spine as the teen bristled at the Namikaze’s casual words. “Hi, mom.”
Tsunade exhaled a teasing, exaggerated sigh. “You kids these days, I swear…” At Minato’s greeting, she stepped into his space and quickly pecked his forehead that he winced with a giggle at, ever the teenage boy bashful from his mother’s affections. “You know, Jiraiya will be back soon. He’d probably be willing to help you both, too.”
At that, the cheer between the two teens seemed to deflate, Minato pocketing his hands while Kushina openly frowned. “Mom, are you… really going?” he broached haltingly, to which Tsunade added her own frown.
She knew how awful it made her. Abandoning her village with the war still raging, but she’d spoken with Minato about it at length, and Kushina, too. She’d given them time to emotionally and mentally prepare, but as both had recently ascended as chūnin, they didn’t exactly need her to play mother hen anymore. More than that, they still had Fusō and Jiraiya’s homecoming to prepare for, which meant they wouldn’t be without sorely needed adult figures in their lives. Still, Tsunade knew how awful it looked, leaving her own child while she slipped into retirement, but it was exactly because of that which had created the need to leave.
Tsunade wasn’t a positive influence in their lives anymore; not since she’d lost such an unprecedented amount of people in a short span of time. In the years since Uzushiogakure, Tsunade had fallen prey to her vices, gambling and drinking her fortunes away both inherited and made from being a kunoichi. Though she’d sequestered almost all of it to Minato, what remained was spent frivolously, and with it had a realization come.
If she continued to spiral, she knew how negatively it would impact the lives of these children, Shizune included who would stay behind until she came of age and might even join her on her coming escapades. More than just the mausoleum Konoha had become, she didn’t want to have Minato, Kushina, or Shizune see her for what she’d become. She needed to leave before her legacy became one of scorn and disdain for anyone associated with her.
Tsunade had done enough, had revolutionized the medical system extensively before the idea of retirement was ever an unformed thought in her mind. She’d written books, had worked alongside the Nara to help diversify and expand their compendium of medicinal herbs, tirelessly throwing herself into the Medic Corps to train as many med-nin as she could until they could stand apart on their own. She’d organized, compiled, and added her own material to Senju medical Hiden made available to the public, standardized her granduncle’s extensive explorations into medical biology, and adapted Uzumaki fūinjutsu into a massive body of medical ninjutsu to add to it. Crafted poisons, antidotes, and thousands of pharmaceuticals over the years for adaptable use.
She’d given the village and medical ninja system her all until it could stand on its own two legs without her. Until it didn’t need and she wasn’t even bothered anymore, except for the odd stint as a consul.
Shinobi life had taken everyone she’d ever loved from her, and she had only given it more until she had nothing left. It was why the guilt she’d harbor would be for her son, the girl like a daughter, and her husband’s niece she had adopted in all ways except legally.
But, they didn’t—couldn’t—need her. Even if it would be difficult, Tsunade knew they were better off without her. With Kushina’s growing talent in fūinjutsu and a prowess all her own, with Minato trained under Jiraiya and a prodigy in his own right, and Shizune taken under the wing of older med-nin aside from what she’d taught the Katō, she couldn’t help but feel like a ghost. A damaging spirit that brought death and disaster to everyone around her.
Fighting away her dour expression, she offered the blond a sunny grin. “Hey, don’t you worry! If anything I just need to get my head on straight again, but… I doubt I’ll be gone forever. I just need a break, that’s all.”
“Please, don’t be gone for too long!” Shizune pleaded her with wide, doe-like onyx eyes that reminded her achingly of her grandfather. “Uncle and mama are gone, and you… you’re all that’s left, Tsunade-onēsan.”
Tsunade felt her heart clench at Shizune’s pleas, and she took the girl’s hands in her own. “Shizune-chan, please listen to me,” Tsunade implored her, hazel eyes shining. “I’m not… There’s a lot wrong with me right now. A lot that wouldn’t be good for you, or Minato and Kushina. I need some time away, but I’ll be okay by then. Pinky promise.” With a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, she took Shizune’s pinky with her own and shook it once, like a handshake that was more sincere.
“When do you plan on leaving?” Minato asked resignedly, knowing he couldn’t convince his mother otherwise. Not when he knew the points she made, of how remaining in Konoha would only cause her to wither away. No matter how many smiles she could fake, he knew how unhappy she was being so poignantly reminded of the death she hadn’t been able to prevent and the people she’d lost because of it.
World’s great med-nin? I can’t even save the people closest to me!
“In a few days, maybe tonight. I guess it can go either way with so much… freed up,” Tsunade replied with a strained smile, but it relapsed into a frown as she pulled Minato close to her for a tight embrace, Shizune and Kushina to naturally follow. “Look, you kids are in great hands, okay? You’ve got Lord Third, Jiraiya, Fusō and lots of other people. Don’t think I’m not on to how much of an impact you three have been making!” Chuckling softly, she pecked Minato’s forehead especially. “You’ll do great, promise.”
Maybe it was a lame excuse, a placation to make her feel less shitty for the overwhelming need to leave before remaining drove her mad with grief. Tsunade could pretend it was so she could come back a better person, but did she even want to? Aside from her child, Kushina, and Shizune, who did she really have left?
“We’ll make you proud, Tsuna-san!” Kushina promised with a pumped fist, Tsunade reciprocating it half-heartedly, even if she hoped it wasn’t obvious. “I’ll keep an eye on these two, too!” Minato blushed when she yanked him into a headlock, a wily grin on the Uzumaki’s features while Shizune burst into bubbly giggles.
Yeah, I’d best pack my bags before I ruin this— them —too.
“You already do, you have no idea. Trust me…”