Amegakure Tower, top-floor office.
Heavy rain drummed against the windows, yet the room itself was warm and quiet.
Slap!
Tsunade slammed the pen in her hand onto the desk and leaned back into the leather swivel chair, completely abandoning her usual composure.
"I'm done. I'm going on strike."
She rubbed her sore wrists and shot an aggrieved glare at Uchiha Tobirama, who sat opposite her.
"How is it possible that these documents never end? Resource allocation, post-war reconstruction, and those endless complaints from the nobles…"
"Tobirama, you really know how to enjoy being a hands-off leader."
Tobirama, lounging on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other, calmly set down his teacup. A faintly mischievous smile appeared on his face as he stood and walked behind her.
He rested his hands lightly on her shoulders.
Tsunade stiffened for a moment, then relaxed despite herself, quickly realizing what he was doing and flushing.
"Secretary Tsunade," Tobirama said casually, leaning closer, "this is part of your job."
His voice was low and close, and Tsunade felt a shiver run through her despite herself.
"Secretary? That's something you made up on the spot!" she protested, trying to straighten up.
"It's perfectly legitimate," Tobirama replied calmly.
Before she could say more, she found herself unable to fully push him away. With an annoyed huff, she leaned back instead.
"Enough already," Tsunade snapped, covering his mouth with one hand.
Tobirama caught her wrist, and with a light pull, the chair turned slightly. In the blink of an eye, she found herself pinned between the desk and the chair, the distance between them suddenly far too close.
"Tobirama—what are you doing?" she demanded, her heartbeat betraying her calm tone.
"Rewarding a hardworking assistant," he replied evenly.
After a brief moment, he let go and stepped back, leaving Tsunade flustered and glaring at him.
"By the way," Tobirama added, as if nothing had happened, "I picked up a child today."
That snapped Tsunade fully back to attention.
"A child?" Her expression sharpened instantly, slipping back into that of a seasoned jōnin.
"Be careful. Even though Amegakure has surrendered, there are still people loyal to Hanzo. Children are often used as tools."
"Relax," Tobirama said with confidence. "I've already checked her. She has talent, and her chakra is unusual."
"I intend to take her as my disciple."
Tsunade raised an eyebrow. "You? Taking a disciple already?"
"The one who understands first is the teacher," Tobirama replied lightly.
She snorted. "Do whatever you want. You're the one in charge here."
Then her tone softened slightly.
"Just don't let things spiral out of control. If something's wrong with the child, I'll deal with it."
"That's fair," Tobirama said, giving her a brief, gentle tap on the forehead.
"I'm heading back."
---
Later that night, at the residence.
The sky outside was pitch-black.
Tobirama entered quietly, carrying freshly prepared food. The room was silent, save for the faint rise and fall of a small shape under the blanket.
"Stop pretending to sleep," he said calmly.
He set the food down and opened the container. The aroma spread instantly through the room—irresistible to anyone who had lived on the streets.
The blanket shifted.
A small head with blue hair cautiously peeked out. Konan stared at him warily, though her nose twitched despite herself.
"Come eat," Tobirama said, beckoning her over.
She hesitated, fear and hunger warring within her. In the end, hunger won.
She slipped off the bed barefoot, hurried to the table, and began eating quickly, her cheeks puffing up as she stuffed herself.
Tobirama sat across from her, watching quietly.
"Slow down," he said, pushing a glass of water toward her. "There's plenty."
Konan froze for a moment, then drank, her movements gradually slowing. She looked up at him, confusion filling her orange eyes.
Why wasn't he hurting her?
Why was he treating her like this?
When she finally put down the chopsticks, Tobirama spoke again.
"Full?"
She nodded, fingers twisting nervously in her clothes.
"Then let's talk," he said, his tone turning serious.
"Konan, right?"
Her head snapped up, eyes wide.
"Don't panic," he continued calmly. "I know your name—and I know you're talented."
"In this world, orphans like you usually meet only two ends. You starve on the streets… or you're used and discarded."
Konan lowered her head, biting her lip. She knew he was right.
"So I'm offering you another path," Tobirama said, meeting her gaze.
"Become my disciple."
"From now on, I'll be your family."
The word family struck her like a blow.
She instinctively wanted to refuse. She was a child of the Land of Rain. Her parents had died in this war. Becoming the disciple of a Konoha ninja felt like betrayal.
"Think about it," Tobirama said gently.
"Stay here for now. As my disciple, you'll have food, clothes, and safety."
He raised one hand, chakra gathering smoothly in his palm.
"And I'll teach you how to become strong."
"Strong enough to protect what you care about. Strong enough to rebuild your home with your own hands."
Konan trembled.
Images of her parents—and countless suffering children—filled her mind.
If she were strong… maybe things could be different.
Tobirama didn't rush her. He stood, cleaned up the table, and moved naturally around the room, the scene feeling strangely like an ordinary home.
When he returned, he gently lifted her and tucked her back into bed.
"It's cold at night," he said quietly. "Sleep well."
He lightly patted her head.
Warmth spread through her chest.
Her resolve finally broke, tears streaming down her face.
"I'm willing," she cried out as he turned to leave.
"I want to become strong. I want to be your disciple… Teacher."
Tobirama paused, then smiled.
"Good night," he said. "Training starts tomorrow."
The light went out, the door closed, and the room fell into darkness—no longer cold, but comforting.
Curled beneath the blanket, Konan clutched her fists, her heart racing.
Teacher…
For the first time in years, she fell asleep believing tomorrow might be better.
Outside the door, Tobirama listened to her steady breathing.
"Done," he murmured.
"Now… it's time to raise her properly."