Long Live Mask
Tobirama Senju was dead.
Or at least that's what he wanted the world to think with faking his death. It had been sometime during the winter that Tobirama had pulled that little stunt to take his death. The safe-house was safe, cramped but safe. But he obviously wasn't going to live in the safe house forever. After the third month of staying in the safe-house, Tobirama decided it was safe enough to leave. So, he began to make his preparations. One, he couldn't wear his signature blue shinobi armour and fur collar anymore. Two, he couldn't show his face anymore, he had to conceal his identity. After all, Tobirama was dead.
New attire was required and fortunately Tobirama had the foresight to prepare for that as well. New attire complete with a new color scheme. The new color scheme consisted of mostly pale colors. Now for his face, he would need a mask. A mask to conceal his face, a new identity. For now he would don a simple white mask, it wasn't anything special. If anything, it was uneven and brittle and scratchy looking. It would do for now.
He was now Mask.
Long live Mask.
Tobirama would have to do some packing, he couldn't leave anything behind. He didn't want to leave a trail behind. So he began to seal everything into scrolls. Plus, anything left behind could be used by Konohagakure's enemies and he refused to let that be a possibility. Even if he did leave the village, that was still partially his work and the work of Hashirama, Madara and Izuna. It was their shared legacy, so Tobirama still felt the faintest tie of responsibility towards the hidden village. So, he didn't want to move too far from the village, but he didn't want to stay in the Land of Fire. It was almost a contradiction. Almost. There was a perfect place for him to set up geographically close to the Land of Fire.
The Land of Sound.
It was the most ideal location. It had no hidden village so he didn't have to worry about the politics around that. The Sound consisted mostly of solitary clans that kept to themselves and stayed on their own lands, along with a handful of scattered civilian villages that were protected by said clans. The number of clans and villages in the Land of Sound was less than a handful. He had nothing to worry about, except maybe convincing the Sound Daimyo to allow him to set up shop--- but that was a small thing, a minor inconvenience.
Tobirama had already scouted ahead and found the perfect place. All that was left was to finish sealing everything into these scrolls and putting the scrolls into the bag. After he was finished sealing things away, he would leave the safe house and destroy it. There wouldn't be a trace of him being there soon enough.
Long live Mask. Long live the White Ghost.