Old and new beginnings

Tenzo could use a break.

After spending the last few months babysitting Orochimaru, he was grateful to have received a summon back to Konoha.

And yet, after being briefed on the situation by Kakashi-sempai, he almost wished he had stayed to watch over the mad scientist instead.

Now, he found himself following Tsunade-sama into the Senju compound. A guard had tried to stop them at the gate, but the Godaime simply flared her chakra in warning, and the brown-haired man had stepped back with a fearful look on his face.

He couldn’t blame him. Tsunade-sama was terrifying.

As they delved deeper into the neighborhood, everyone stopped to watch them. Tenzo could see people murmuring among themselves and pointing. Some wore offended expressions toward the Godaime; others glared at them both. And yet, no one approached. Not even the armored guards who looked like they wanted to apprehend them. All they did was follow from a distance.

Halfway to what he remembered as the main house, they were stopped by a group of five armored guards, all armed and wearing matching scowls. At their head stood none other than Tobirama Senju.

Tsunade-sama halted before them, face hard as stone, arms folded under her heavy bosom.

“You don’t want to do this,” the Godaime said flatly.
“Who are you?” asked the Nidaime.

Tsunade tilted her head and smirked, and thanks to years of dealing with Kakashi-sempai, Tenzo instantly recognized the warning signs. Whatever she was about to say, it was meant to get a reaction.

“I am Tsunade Senju, acting clan head of the Senju and the Godaime Hokage of Konoha. It’s nice to see you’re as serious as ever, Granduncle.”

Tenzo shivered as the temperature seemed to drop around the Nidaime. The rest of the courtyard stared at Tsunade-sama as if she had just dropped a bomb—which, to be fair, she kind of had. It didn’t take a genius to understand the implications of her words.

Unaffected, the Godaime simply waved the tension away with a flick of her wrist.

“Take me to your father and the clan elders. The sooner we get this over with, the better. I’m sure there’s plenty you’re curious about, and I’ve come to answer your questions.”

Tobirama-sama narrowed his eyes in response. After a tense minute of silence, he shifted his attention to Tenzo, who tried very hard not to gulp.

“And who is he?”

“Don’t worry about him. He’s just here to make sure I don’t do anything I might regret later,” she replied, not even glancing his way.

Still, Tenzo couldn’t just stand idle as the Nidaime examined him. He stood at attention as if reporting to his Hokage—which, in a way, he was.

Tsunade-sama, not one to wait around for permission, took matters into her own hands — as she often did — and resumed her walk toward the main house. The guards, too stunned to stop her, looked to Tobirama-sama for instruction. He simply watched her go before falling into step behind her.

Tenzo hurried to catch up, keeping a respectful distance behind the Nidaime as the rest of the guards followed in formation.

Feeling the occasional shove on his back, he really, really wished he had stayed with the snake bastard.

Hashirama knows what power feels like.

He knows how it runs through his veins, how it pulses in the trees that grow beneath his hands. He knows the power his father inspires, blended with fear. He knows the fire of Madara’s strength, the intensity in his eyes, the weight of his love. He even knows the power of his brother, a quiet force that waits in silence until it’s time to strike.

But Hashirama has never encountered power like Tsunade Senju.

Her power was loud, not only in her actions but in her chakra. She let it fizzle freely, as if she were tasting the world without the slightest regard for those around her. Her power was unapologetic, just like her.

Hashirama had never met a woman like her. Of course, he had seen female shinobi before, even despite the laws forbidding it. But they always hid themselves, trying to conceal their identity as women to survive.

Tsunade Senju was nothing like that.

The Senju heir noticed, embarrassingly, that she dressed in a very... loose manner. He’d even heard one of the elders mutter under his breath, calling her a vulgar woman with a grimace. And yet, the elder hadn’t dared say it aloud.

Because for all that her power was unrestrained and loud, it also screamed danger. Everyone in the room was experienced enough not to underestimate her, regardless of their beliefs about a woman’s place among men.

The last few days had been, frankly, insane if Hashirama had to describe them. Waking up one morning to find your entire clan thrown into the future was not a scenario he had ever prepared for.

At first, the joy of discovering the village — their village, their dream, that he built with Madara — had lit a fire in him. But that flame had been dimmed by the growing uncertainty of their situation. Once they learned that the Uchiha had also been transported here, his first instinct had been to go find Madara.

But after they were “invited” to stay on what Hatake-san referred to as their ancestral land, their father had forbidden anyone from leaving the Senju grounds. The only one allowed outside was Tobi, who went around gathering information and materials from the surrounding area.

And what they’d learned was... horrifying.

They had chosen to use the council audience room for the meeting. He and Tobi had joined their father and the clan elders to receive his supposed granddaughter.

Hashirama had been stunned when his brother told him. Of course, he’d heard about her. One of the strange printed sheets they called “newspapers” had a section that mentioned her. Although the article didn’t include pictures, it was an titled “criteria for being nominated Hokage,” and one of the first points had been “nepotism.” They had gone on to explain her connection to him.

But hearing about her and seeing her were two very different things.

“I don’t like beating around the bush, so I’ll just say it straight,” she began, not waiting for any ceremony, not even for the tea to finish being served. One of the elders bristled at the lack of manners, while his father’s scowl deepened. The woman continued, completely unbothered.

“Konoha has dispatched a team, our best, to figure out how you ended up here and how to send you back. In the meantime, your clan will need to contribute to society. And I’m here to make sure of that.”

“You- you crazy woman!” exclaimed Hanatake-sama, the same elder who had muttered about her earlier. “How dare you speak without being addressed?! And dress like this- and-”

“Excuse you?” Tsunade cut in, her voice ice-cold. Hashirama actually felt a shiver crawl down his spine. He saw the young man who had accompanied her feel the same.

“I’ll say this only once. I don’t give a fuck if you think I have no right to speak, breathe, or live because I’m a woman. Get that shit out of your head, or I’ll beat it out of you. You will show me the respect I am owed. Otherwise, I won’t hesitate to send your corpse to keep company with the one already occupying the tomb with your name on it.”

Hanatake huffed indignantly, but said nothing more. The other elders glared, but none of them dared refute her words.

To Hashirama’s right, his father folded his arms, a sign Hashirama recognized well.

He was finally going to speak.

“You are my granddaughter?” asked the clan head, though it wasn’t really a question.

“Great-granddaughter,” the blonde corrected, her honey-brown eyes locking onto him. “I’m his granddaughter. He even chose my name when I was born.”

The Mokuton user felt his ears burn, though he couldn’t say why. Being confronted by your own future was... disorienting.

“And he didn’t teach you manners?”

She waved his comment away, reclining further against the tatami wall. Someone muttered Clearly not under their breath.

“My manners are fine. I’m in my own home.”

“That may be true, but you should still be respectful toward your elders.”

“You’re not myelders,” she replied coolly. “My elders are buried in the forest south of here, next to the temple, if you want to go look for them.”

She straightened slightly. “Let’s make something clear.” Her tone shifted, sharpened.

“We don’t know what triggered your arrival in this time. But until we figure that out, you are guests in my home, and my responsibility. The Hokage has agreed to let your clan roam freely in the village, so long as you respect its laws and its people.”

“The Senju founded Konoha,” argued his father, voice heavy with finality. “We don’t need some Hatake dog’s permission to live in it. My sons’ faces are carved into the history of this village, as its founders.”

If Tsunade was surprised that they knew this, she didn’t show it. Instead, she took a sip from her cooling tea, then grimaced like the drink had offended her.

“Hashirama Senju founded Konoha with Madara Uchiha, became its first Hokage, and did a shit job of it.”

The room went utterly silent. Hashirama felt heat creeping up the back of his neck. He could feel the weight of the stares now focused on him.

“The economy was in shambles. Clans fought over land and resources. It took the First Shinobi War just to get everyone to stop bickering, and he kind of started that too.”

So he was a terrible leader? What a great way to find that out.

“Then Tobirama Senju succeeded him, an improvement I’ll give you that. In the middle of a war, he managed to build the administrative structure we still use today. Revolutionized warfare with the introduction of shinobi arts in the dark. And yet, if you trace back the roots of the discrimination that nearly destroyed Konoha decades later, you’ll find his bigotry at the center of it.”

The blonde paused to take another sip, still unfazed by the growing tension.

“After that came a Sarutobi. Good for the economy, sure, but to this day, we’re still picking up the pieces of what his leadership did to our children. Kids broken beyond repair after being subjected to horrors no one should face.”

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.

“Then a Namikaze. Civilian kid with a story straight out of a fucking fairy tale. Inspirational, sure. But he died too young. At least his death was good for Konoha’s PR.”

Hashirama had no idea what PR meant. But it didn’t sound like it was really a good thing.

“So Sarutobi came back. That’s how corrupted the system was. And when he died, I -Senju heiress, granddaughter of the great Hashirama Senju- took the hat. A drunk and a gambler.”
She smiled grimly.

“And then I passed it to a Hatake. Because I was sick of it.”

She paused again, lifting her eyes to scan the room. One by one, slowly. Measuring reactions.

“So. What’s the lesson here?”
Her voice was deceptively soft. Like a teacher, asking her students.

No one answered.

He glanced at his brother, seated to their father’s right. Tobi was scowling. But knowing him, he probably understood. Unlike him, Tobirama didn’t flinch at failure. He studies it. Absorbs it. Plans around it.

“The lesson,” Tsunade said, “is that your name doesn’t mean shit.”

Her words dropped like a blade.

“Three Senju have worn the hat. All three sucked. Another Hokage was the student of two Senju, and he sucked too. So Konoha had to become something more than the clans who founded her. And now? She’s outlived them all.”

She leaned back again, gaze lazy—but there was something else there too there. Amusement. Pity.

“Now there’s only one Uchiha left. After they finished killing each other.”

Hashirama’s heart clenched at that. He had read about the Uchiha Massacre, and it had felt like bleeding through the pages. His clansmen had celebrated it.

“And there’s only one Senju left,” she added, a strange smugness in her tone.

“How is that possible?” another elder, Bikako-sama asked, voice brittle with disbelief. “The Senju clan numbers are no joke.”

Tsunade only hummed in response. Her casualness in the face of their extinction chilled him.

“There was a saying,” she mused, tapping a finger to her lips. “I think it was an uncle, or maybe an older cousin, who used to say it whenever they argued against me becoming a shinobi.”

She snapped her fingers.

“Ah, that’s it.” She leaned forward, her gaze sharp with a quiet kind of cruelty.

“The clan dies with its women.”

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife.

Of course they knew the saying. They had lived by it. Protected their women in order to protect themselves.

“After Grandfather died,” Tsunade continued, her voice even, “other shinobi villages started putting anonymous bounties on Senju. They didn’t want to risk another Mokuton user being born. They couldn’t figure out how to steal the bloodline, so they tried to erase it instead. Through two wars and in the years between, our clan was hunted to near extinction.”

She didn’t look at any of them as she said it. Her gaze was fixed ahead.

“Only I survived,” she added, tone lighter now, almost mocking. “Because I was taught to be harder to kill. Then became almost impossible to kill.” A smirk tugged at her lips. “Turns out, the clan dies with its men too.”

Cruel, Hashirama thought. The words were cruel.

But cruelty, he had come to understand, was sometimes just the mask pain wore. It couldn’t have been easy, watching your family die around you.

“Then it was your duty to ensure our line continued,” Chichu-e said after a long silence. A silence that most seemed grateful for.

Looking around, Hashirama could see the impact of her words. The elders, shaken. His great uncle’s hands trembled on his lap.

“Don’t lecture me about duty,” Tsunade replied flippantly. “It died with my brother. And so will the continuation of the Senju name.”

“You come here talking to us about responsibility,” the clan head snapped. “Yet you act like a child. You don’t even understand what it means.”

Tsunade only raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Don’t get sassy with me, brat. I’m closer to his age than yours,” she said, nodding toward Hashirama’s great uncle.

The man who accompanied her, her guard, choked on his drink. The rest stared at her like she had grown a second head.

Only Tobirama narrowed his eyes, lips pursed, one fist resting on his knee.

His thinking pose.

“That’s impossible!” Hanatake-sama burst out. “Do you think this is the time for jokes?”

“Chakra is life,” Tsunade said simply. “You wouldn’t believe what you can do with it when you stop using it just to kill people and children.”

Hashirama wasn’t the only one who felt subtly chastised.

“Anyway,” she added, suddenly standing up. Her guard followed hastily, startled. “I think we’re done here.”

The shouts of protest began immediately. She didn’t flinch.

“Tomorrow morning, we’ll meet with the Hokage and the Uchiha party to discuss your futures. Send me your demands by the end of the day, and I’ll decide which ones I’ll approve.”

The murmurs turned into full-blown outrage. The idea of sharing a room with the Uchiha was enough to send several elders into furious disbelief.

Hashirama’s father was now visibly scowling, a vein bulging at his temple. His hands clenched into fists as he struggled to contain his temper.

“We didn’t agree to anything,” he growled.

Tsunade met his anger with a rising tide of her own. She flared her chakra, not wildly, but with terrifying control. Sharp. Lethal.

A warning.

“This isn’t a negotiation,” she snapped.

“Also, you’ll need to learn the laws. All clans must abide by them. My student will bring them to you. Every member of your clan is required to understand the laws and the rights of Konoha citizens.”

Then, unexpectedly, she turned to him.

“Can everyone in your clan read?”

“U-um,” Hashirama stuttered, earning a sharp glare from his father. He straightened quickly.
“One member of every family is required to know how to read.”

Tsunade blinked. Then sighed.

“Fucking fantastic. Of course you're all illiterate.” She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Fine. It’ll be read to them. Assemble everyone in the courtyard, one hour before dusk. One of you will read the laws aloud. I’ll supervise. And I may as well address them while I’m at it. Make time for that.”

No one said a word. They just stared, dumbfounded.

“That’s it, then. I’ll be at my house. The one on the hillside, next to the east watch post. You’re welcome to stay in the main house.”

Then she turned. To Tobirama.

With a smirk, she asked, “Did you manage to break the seal on my front door?”

The entire room stilled. Tobirama’s eye twitched—just slightly. A tic.
Hashirama knew what it meant.
Despite his brother’s best efforts to cancel them, some tics always slipped through when his emotions runs too high. Surprise. Frustration. Defensiveness.

Tsunade caught it instantly. And grinned. She knew exactly what that tic meant.

“Yeah, I thought you wouldn’t,” she said, something almost fond flickering in her smile.
“Fun fact: you designed those seal layers yourself.”

And with that mic-drop revelation, she turned toward the door just as the noise in the room picked back up. Everyone speaking over one another again, frantic to regain control of the conversation.

“Wait,” Tobirama called, voice calm but commanding enough to cut through the chaos.

Even Tsunade paused, hand already on the shoji door, turning back to glance at him over her shoulder.

“You said you were going to answer our questions,” Tobirama reminded her, cool and composed in a way that always seemed beyond Hashirama’s own capabilities.

“Right. I did say that,” Tsunade admitted, sighing. She turned to her guard, who had stepped up to follow her.

“Tenzo. Stay.”

“What?” he blinked, confused.

“They have questions. Answer them. I’ve got to go drink.” She looked at the room again. “He’s a very reliable source of information,” she added dryly.

“Tsunade-sama??!” Tenzo looked borderline panicked, clearly not prepared to be left behind as a sacrificial lamb to this prideful crowd.

“And for your information,” she continued, voice now intentionally casual, “Tenzo has Mokuton.”

The silence that followed was instant and absolute. The man himself looked horrified.

Hashirama’s father actually stood up in shock, his gaze snapping to the younger man. A flicker of hope sparked behind his eyes, probably wondering if Tenzo was another miraculously surviving Senju.

But Hashirama couldn’t shake the question running through his own mind: Why wasn’t Tenzo’s chakra singing like the trees?

“Hold your horses,” Tsunade snapped, somehow reading their collective thoughts. “He’s not a Senju.”

Her expression darkened slightly, just for a moment.

“Like I said, there are people out there trying to replicate the Mokuton. One madman came dangerously close, by experimenting on hundreds of children using Grandfather’s cells.”

The room went still. Horrified.

“Only Tenzo survived,” she said, “and he got the gift… after years of torture.”
Her tone was razor-sharp now.  “So if any of you bully him, I will personally kick your ass.”

And with that, she was gone, leaving a stunned Tenzo behind, who was immediately swarmed by a dozen Senju elders like a pack of starving wolves descending on a cornered rabbit.

Hashirama winced. The noise level surged again, and for a second, he actually thought he might pass out from the headache blooming behind his eyes.

But then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his father standing near the doorway. His gaze was fixed on the Senju clan crest stitched into the back of Tsunade’s robe as she disappeared into the corridor.

Kanahe Uchiha had lived a long, hard life.

He had grown up on the battlefield, just like his brothers, and somehow survived it. Survived with nightmares that never truly faded, and a left eye that barely saw anymore.

He never imagined he’d live long enough to put down the sword and pick up the quill. To become a counselor to his clan’s head. To witness the rise of Madara and Izuna, two warriors who, Kanahe believed, would carry the Uchiha name to new heights.

He also never imagined he’d live long enough to see its fall.

Hearing the boy, Sasuke Uchiha, speak about the clan’s downfall had been like a knife to the chest.

The rest of the council called him rude. Cold. But Kanahe saw him for what he really was.

A sad, lost boy. One who had lost too much, too young. One who had nearly drowned in the dark.

Tajima-sama, bless the old man, seemed to understand this too.

“If you’re going to be helping the clan,” Tajima had said thoughtfully, “then you should stay in the district. I’ll have the servants prepare a room for you in the west wing.”

The west wing. Reserved for the main family. The honor was not lost on anyone.

They’d listened earlier as Sasuke explained that the next morning, the Uchiha would meet with the village’s Hokage, alongside the Senju. A conversation that would determine their fate.

Of course, they'd spent far too long debating the idea of sitting down with their enemies, but in the end, Tajima-sama agreed. Negotiation, he’d reasoned, was an opportunity. A chance to secure their future within the village.

The Uzumaki boy, who was unlike any Uzumaki Kanahe had ever fought, claimed the Hokage’s office would be sending over a list of laws they’d have to study and follow.

“I will not stay.” The words came flat. Distant. Not defiant, just tired.

At first, Kanahe had thought the boy was tense because of nerves. But as the hours passed, it became clear : Sasuke simply did not want to be here.

“Then at least stay for dinner,” Tajima offered. “Meet the rest of your clan. Everyone eats together on the plain beside the river. Come. Tell them who you are.”

The boy hesitated. He frowned, clearly readying another refusal.

But then his friend nudged him.

“You should listen to old man Tajima, dattebayo.”

Izuna visibly bristled at the lack of honorifics, but Tajima-sama only chuckled, more amused than offended.

“They must be scared,” the blond continued. “They probably don’t understand what’s going on. You should be there. Let them know you’re here to protect and help them. No matter what happens next.”

Rough around the edges as he was, the Uzumaki boy clearly had a knack for diplomacy. Clumsy, but honest. Oddly enough, it seemed to be a trait that all the Uchiha in the room had come to find… endearing.

Kanahe watched as Sasuke Uchiha considered the words. And in that moment, he thought their friendship was nothing short of extraordinary.

It was… reassuring, somehow. That despite the crushing loss of his entire family, the boy hadn’t ended up completely alone.

Strange, though, to feel gratitude toward an Uzumaki.

“Alright,” Sasuke finally said, nodding. “I’ll stay for dinner.”

Dinner was a strange affair. Tajima-sama introduced the boy and explained his identity to the clan at large. There was outrage, there was anger, and there was definitely sorrow. Kanahe could relate, he didn’t know how he was going to sleep tonight with the fate of their clan plaguing his thoughts. After the clan head’s speech, Sasuke-san introduced himself and, in a surprising show of humility, bowed before the clan to tell them they would be under his care from now on.

Kanahe remembered Madara as a mischievous and hyperactive boy who grew into a formidable warrior. But he had always been unruly, hot-tempered, and followed his own rules. He was the life of the party, so unlike his current self. Solemn and brooding. Which was pretty much everyone’s mood after the revelation. Yet the elder suspected that the heir was probably beating himself up for his alleged role in the clan’s fall from grace.

Dinner was a simple dish of fish, with sides of green soup, onions, and rice. Afterward, some members of the clan approached young Sasuke to comfort him. Kanahe saw tears, pats, and encouraging looks. He even witnessed some aunties crowding around him, scolding him for not eating enough. One of the older grandmothers even pinched his cheek with tears in her eyes, telling him he was too skinny and needed to stop by tomorrow to get some food.

The clan had clearly adopted him without resistance, likely seeing the same abandoned boy Kanahe and Tajima-sama had seen. The Uchiha's love ran deep, and their strength lay in their bonds.

Still, Kanahe could tell the attention was too much for the boy. He was so tense you could snap him in two. Sasuke skillfully detached himself from the crowd with polite goodbyes, and with a last reminder to Tajima-sama that he would be at the gate at 7 a.m. to escort them to the meeting, he disappeared a moment later.

And indeed, he was at the gate the next morning, already waiting. Dressed the same way as the day before and without a clan crest anywhere on his person.

They would be five today accompanying Sasuke-sama to the meeting: Tajima-sama, with his heir and second son, Kanahe himself, and elder Miu-sama, the late clan head’s younger brother. Together, they made their way through the streets of Konoha.

Kanahe had never seen anything like this village. And yet, he had been to the capital before. There were shops all along the streets, and as the passersby stopped what they were doing to watch them pass, he couldn’t believe his eyes at what they were wearing!

He saw a man with some sort of circles perched on his nose. Another wearing white shoes that closed entirely around his feet. And the women, absolutely presumptuous!

As they left the busy square, they began walking along some open fields. Training grounds, if the young ninjas practicing there were any indication.

Eventually, they made their way into one of them, heading for what appeared to be a table set in the middle, with some servants preparing tea a little farther away. As they neared the meeting point, they spotted another group emerging from the treeline, heading the same way.

Kanahe tensed, as did the rest of their party, save for Sasuke-sama. He could recognize that revolting earthy chakra, dense and muddied. It was the Senju party.

As they got closer, Izuna-sama, never one to hold his tongue, let out a curse.

“What the hell is that?”

And as if to complete his brother’s thought, Madara-sama made a strange strangled noise. It was only after a few more meters that Kanahe finally saw what the fuss was about, his eyesight wasn’t quite what it used to be.

A blonde woman, dressed like a lowborn courtesan, was leading the Senju party. Half her chest was exposed, her green haori didn’t even close, and she wore pants like a man - ones that didn’t even hide her ankles. Her sandals had high soles that added inches to her height. She wore red on her lips, and strange markings on her forehead. She looked like one of those prostitutes from the fishing towns bordering the eastern coast of the Land of Fire.

This couldn’t actually be the woman they said was the last Senju. Then again, it wouldn’t surprise him. The Senju were, after all, degenerate maggots. Of course they would produce this kind of woman in the future.

The woman was scrutinizing them as both parties came within five meters of each other. He could see the Senju sizing them up as well. Surprisingly, Sasuke-sama was the one who broke the staring contest first. As soon as they stopped before the long table, he inclined his head toward the woman in a small bow—a clear sign of respect, to the shock of their party.

It was the first remotely polite act the boy had made since they had known him.

“Brat.” The audacity! Izuna-sama actually choked on his spit. 

Kanahe could see Tajima-sama glaring at her and opening his mouth to speak, probably to berate her or remind the Senju dogs to control their women better. Yet she didn’t give them the chance, turning instead to address the attendant who had come to welcome them.

“Where is Kakashi?” Wasn’t that man the leader of this village? How was she addressing him so disrespectfully? Kanahe noticed the Senju party stiffen as well, even they seemed appalled by the behavior of this... this…

To everyone’s surprise, the attendant actually straightened up, as if he were about to respond to his superior, not some low-class woman.

“Hokage-sama hasn’t arrived yet, but Shikamaru-sama confirmed that the Rokudaime will be here just in time.”

“There are five minutes until the start of this meeting,” she said, pulling out a chair to sit, without even waiting for the men! Was there no end to this woman’s madness? “If he doesn’t show up in five minutes, I’m starting this. I don’t have the time or the patience to wait for him to finish scooping his dog’s shit, or whatever.”

“Agreed.” They all watched, dumbfounded, as Sasuke-sama agreed with the vulgar woman and sat down across from her.

The rest of them stayed frozen for another minute before they all slowly took their seats on each side, carefully avoiding eye contact to prevent any further conflict.

Attendants came forward to pour the tea. And as one of them actually served the woman first -before the men!- Kanahe saw her frown and address him again.

“Tea?” she snarled. She clearly lacked any sense of decorum. “You expect me to do this sober?”

“I—well—” Kanahe could not understand why all the servants acted so terrified of her. “There will be sake at the end of the talk, my lady.”

A strange tension seemed to spread across the table as the woman simply stared at the servant without replying. Finally, the attendant seemed to deflate and hurried away with a quick promise that he would get her some sake right away.

What madness is this?!

“So, did you kill anyone?” The woman’s question cut through the silence as they all sipped their tea, pretending the other party didn’t exist.

“No. You?” replied Sasuke-sama, clearly the only one she deemed worthy of her disdainful attention.

“Surprisingly, no. Though it came close.”

The boy inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, which was all she deserved from Sasuke-sama anyway. Still, the blonde didn’t seem bothered, continuing to drink in silence.

Kanahe suddenly felt Izuna-sama tense next to him. As he looked across the table to see what he was glaring at, he spotted the Senju heir watching Madara-sama in a rather challenging way, if he said so himself, though the Uchiha was clearly ignoring him.

“Is he fucking serious right now?” The woman’s angry question startled Kanahe after so much quiet.

“He used to do the same to us during our genin team training,” responded Sasuke-sama, who seemed equally annoyed for some reason. The woman’s eye began to twitch.

“Well, I don’t have all day.” With that, she turned toward them for the first time since sitting down. The tension was palpable as she looked at each of them in turn.

“I’ll start the introductions, since the Hokage is too busy playing mind games.”

“Do you actually have no manners, woman? How dare you speak before a man addresses you!” Kanahe agreed wholeheartedly with elder Miu.

But then, one of the servants dropped the tea set he was carrying in surprise, and the entire table stilled as one of the most terrifying killing intents Kanahe had ever felt began to spread like mist, seeping into his pores. He could feel his Sharingan activating instinctively in response to the threat, every Uchiha at the table doing the same except for Sasuke-sama. In response, the Senju reached for their weapons. Everyone was tense, ready to strike.

"I thought they were going to be taught about modern times, brat," the woman said, calm as a tree, as if completely unaffected by the storm brewing around her. She still held her sake cup in hand and looked each of them in the eye, unafraid of their bloodline limit. With chilling realization, Kanahe understood that the killing intent was coming from her.

"They’re still learning." Sasuke-sama was now glaring at them, though he hadn’t activated his dōjutsu or reached for any weapon. He was almost too nonchalant.

Kanahe could feel his chest beginning to ache from the pressure. Elder Miu was actually gasping for breath. He saw the Senju heir turn toward the woman with wide eyes, clearly intending to calm her down, even though he himself was visibly pale.

"My, my… everyone’s so lively this morning."

They all startled as the man who had come to their camp that first night appeared with a Nara in tow. He seemed rather cheery, in Kanahe’s annoyed opinion, completely unaffected by the tension in the air. The killing intent hadn’t abated one bit.

"You’re late," Sasuke-sama snapped at the so-called Hokage of Konoha.

"I am not. There are still two minutes left," the man replied as he took a seat at the head of the table, the Nara standing behind him.

"You made your elders wait. You are late, boy," barked the woman, glaring at him next. Her killing intent dissipated into thin air, and it was only then that Kanahe realized he had stopped breathing.

"Right. Sorry," the Hokage squeaked. Kanahe could not believe this was the leader of the village trying to suppress them. Ridiculous. In response, the woman downed the drink in her cup in one go.

"So, shall we start with introductions?" Hatake began, looking around the table. "We’ll go around. I'll start, then the clan representatives, the clan heads, and our respective entourages will follow. Does that work for everyone?"

No one responded. He seemed to take the silence as an affirmative.

"Great. I’m Kakashi Hatake, Rokudaime Hokage of Konoha. Tsunade-sama, if you would?" He turned to the woman, and if anyone had anything to say about her going next, they wisely kept their mouths shut, still remembering the terror from just minutes ago.

"Tsunade Senju, acting clan head of the Senju clan and Godaime Hokage of Konoha."

"Sasuke Uchiha, representative of the Uchiha clan," Sasuke-sama continued, not even giving them time to react to the revelation that this woman had once led the village.

"Butsuma Senju… clan head of the Senju clan." There was clearly conflict within the Senju, if two people claimed to be clan heads. Yet, no one seemed bothered by it, least of all the current Hokage, who next turned toward Tajima-sama.

"Tajima Uchiha, acting clan head of the Uchiha clan."

The introductions continued until everyone at the table had spoken.

"Well then, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”  Hatake said it with a smile.