"That bastard Danzō—"
Tsunade's fist came down like a meteor.
The marble table didn't stand a chance. A chunk the size of a dinner plate split clean off, skittering across the floor.
"—dug up my grandfathers' graves!" Her voice shook the walls. "When I get my hands on him, I'm gonna—"
"Tsunade." Tobirama's voice was flat. Tired. "Are you still drunk, or are you deliberately missing the point?"
Tsunade jabbed a finger at him. "The point is that wrinkled fossil violated sacred ground! You think I'm gonna let that slide?"
From the corner, Takenaka Fuyō pressed herself against the wall. She'd served Tsunade for years. Knew her moods. This wasn't temper—this was fury. The kind that left craters.
Tobirama pinched the bridge of his nose. "He dug up my grave. I'm the one standing here as a reanimated corpse. And I'm not throwing furniture." He fixed her with a look. "So maybe—maybe—we can table the grave desecration and talk about the fact that two major villages are about to slaughter each other."
"World peace?" Tsunade snorted. "That's your opening? 'Hey granddaughter, I know you're pissed, but let's solve geopolitics real quick.'"
"You're the bridge." Tobirama's tone sharpened. "Your husband runs Suna. Your teacher runs Konoha. You're the only person both sides might actually listen to."
Tsunade's laugh was bitter. "You've been dead too long, Grandpa. I don't run anything anymore." She gestured vaguely at the room. "I got married. Stopped managing village affairs. And Jinghang doesn't consult me on strategy—he never has. Hell, Suna's council exiled me. Sent me on 'inspection tours' to get me out of the way." Her voice dropped. "I've got no influence. Not in Suna. Not in Konoha—Hiruzen's retired, and even when he wasn't, I was just the crazy gambling medic."
She met his eyes. "Who exactly do you think is gonna listen to me?"
Tobirama studied her. The defiance. The deflection. Classic Tsunade—slippery as an eel when cornered.
Just like her grandmother.
He sighed. "Let me tell you a story."
The Day Tobirama Escaped
The Amber Purifying Pot shattered.
One moment, Tobirama was drowning in sealing chakra. The next, he was free—standing in the middle of Sunagakure's ceremonial grounds, surrounded by armed shinobi.
Bunpuku stood at the center, hands still glowing from the sealing jutsu. Chiyo flanked him, puppet strings ready. Two dozen Suna elites formed a perimeter.
They'd just sealed Hashirama. Now they wanted him.
Tobirama didn't hesitate.
Flying Thunder God.
The world lurched—
—and he materialized three hundred miles away, crashing onto a gambling table in a shower of cards and chips.
Tsunade stared at him. Sake cup frozen halfway to her lips.
"Granddaughter." Tobirama straightened, brushing poker chips off his armor. "We need to talk."
"You used the kunai I gave you," Tsunade said quietly. "The one you marked as a keepsake."
"Closest anchor point." Tobirama shrugged. "I didn't plan the destination. Just knew I needed out."
"That's your philosophy, isn't it?" Tsunade's voice was softer now. "Always have an exit. Always calculate the cost."
"It kept me alive." Tobirama's gaze was distant. "Your grandfather—Hashirama—he was invincible. Didn't matter who he fought. Madara. The Kage. Tailed beasts. He'd charge in and win. Every time." His jaw tightened. "I wasn't like that. I was strong—but not that strong. So I learned to think. To plan. To know when a fight wasn't worth the price."
He looked at her. "That's why I left Suna. Not cowardice. Strategy. They had me surrounded, prepared, ready. Fighting would've been suicide."
"And now?" Tsunade asked. "What's the strategy for this mess?"
Tobirama was silent for a long moment.
"I've been trying to understand," he said finally. "How Konoha fell so far. How Sunagakure—a village we used to pity—became strong enough to threaten us." He met her eyes. "So I asked you to explain. And you did."
Tsunade had talked for hours. Told him everything.
Jinghang's rise during the Second War. The desperate stand that saved Suna from collapse. The Moon Lake development—transforming desert into farmland. Yuexi Peninsula's construction. The war with Iwa, where Jinghang personally defeated Ōnoki. The bandit purges. The anti-corruption campaigns.
A story of a man who'd taken a dying village and willed it back to life.
Tobirama had listened. And despite himself—despite being Konoha's founder—he'd felt something close to admiration.
"Your husband," he said slowly, "is remarkable."
Tsunade blinked. "You... approve?"
"I respect competence." Tobirama's voice was matter-of-fact. "He saw what needed to be done and did it. No hesitation. No half-measures. That's leadership." He paused. "It's also what makes this war so stupid."
"Suna was a natural ally!" Tobirama's frustration bled through. "You married Jinghang. Created a blood tie between villages. Suna wasn't expanding militarily—they were focused on development. We had a buffer state in the west. A trading partner. A friend." His fist clenched. "And Konoha threw it away. Started a war we couldn't win. For what? Pride? Paranoia?"
He shook his head. "Now we're losing. Badly. And they want me—a dead man—to fix it."
Tsunade looked away. "It's not that simple."
"It never is." Tobirama's voice softened. "But I heard something. That day outside Konoha. Jinghang said, 'I didn't say we couldn't negotiate.'" He leaned forward. "That's an opening, Tsunade. A chance to end this before more people die."
"And you want me to be the messenger." Her tone was flat.
"I want you to be the bridge." Tobirama's gaze was steady. "Not because you're a woman. Not because you're caught between sides. But because you're the only person both villages might trust enough to listen."
Tsunade's hands trembled. Just slightly.
"I don't want this war," she whispered. "I just... I want to go home. I want to hold my son. I want—"
The door exploded inward.
Jiraiya burst through, wild-eyed and panting. "Finally found you! I've been searching every gambling den in—"
"...Lord Tobirama?"
Tobirama sighed. "Jiraiya. Of course it's you."
"But you're—you were—" Jiraiya's brain visibly short-circuited. "You're dead!"
"Astute observation." Tobirama's voice was bone-dry. "Now. Why are you interrupting?"
Jiraiya's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
This was going to be a long conversation.
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