With the last of the burn victims evacuated and Satoshi's Water Element having done its job, Tsunade studied the inside of the house, wondering how many blows to the forehead a person needed before they decided to have window drapes hanging directly over their cooking surface.
The sound of Shizune's careful footsteps brought her back to reality.
"Message for you, Lady Tsunade," Shizune proffered her a scroll. "Dr Yakushi wanted to make sure you were kept in the loop."
"He's a talented boy, that one," Tsunade muttered as she undid the seal. "Perfect balance of professionalism and kissing my ass. If he wasn't so good at BL work, I wouldn't think twice before poaching him for Int Neg."
She studied the scroll. It took her several readings to make sure she understood it correctly.
"Shizune," she said evenly, "is this a load-bearing wall?"
"I don't believe so. Why? Wait—"
The punch shook the structure to its foundations.
"Huh," Tsunade said as she watched the ceiling begin to cave in, "think you were wrong about that. Still," she gave a chilling smile, "I suppose that means now they won't need the rest of this building either."
-o-
It had been a productive afternoon, Mari reflected as she walked home at a leisurely pace. Lady Aburame had had a lot to teach her about Leaf fashions in loose, flowing clothing, which was something Mari's personal style had never before incorporated. Needless to say, it also inclined Lady Aburame, the gift-giver, to look more favourably on her, as well as creating the expectation of a continuing relationship so Mari could repay the debt. And on her way home, Mari had been able to make discreet enquiries about a certain member of Team Gai. Nothing but the best for her little girl.
That brought her up short. Her little girl. Somebody as twisted as Mari should never have kids; she'd realised that years ago. She'd even avoided taking on genin teams, because inheriting her superlative skills wasn't worth the risk of inheriting her warped relationship with life. And then fate had forced her hand.
First Keiko, who was already so broken when they met that Mari could do anything to her and it would still be an improvement. Then Hazō. Noburi. Akane. Kagome, who in many ways was still as much a child as the rest of them. They had not only survived their exposure to Inoue Mari, but had somehow taken the best of what she had to teach without absorbing her nihilism, her sadism or her narcissism. And now, inexplicably, impossibly, they were her family. Was there enough trust and affection between them for a parent-child relationship? Could she live up to it if there was? Did Gōketsu Mari deserve the chance to be a decent human being that Inoue Mari never got? Even if she did, could she seize it without giving up the skills, crafted by a decade of lies, cold-hearted exploitation and mind rape, that she now needed in order to protect her family?
"Are you Inoue Mari?"
In some ways, it was exactly the right question. And the right question demanded the right answer.
"Gōketsu Mari, yes. How can I—"
The weight of a mountain came down on her.
Ancient. Implacable. Too vast for the human mind to wrap around its full size. And in the depths she had been cast into, writhing horrors that the sunlit world had never seen, too old to have names and too primordial to know death. They perceived her, and in their sight she was nothing but layers of flesh and bone, to be flayed, examined, catalogued and devoured at their leisure for no better reason than because they were bored.
Mari would have been lost, except that she had once experienced a pressure even more overwhelming: the Mizukage's will, backed by a creature yet more powerful and more inimical to life. The thought sparked within her: This is less. And fire only needed one spark.
The best of the mountains were volcanoes. Rivers of fire flowed through them, relentlessly seeking freedom until at last they obtained it in a burst of explosive strength. Mari was fire in the dark, melting everything in her way as she clawed her way up from the depths. Stillness could not beat motion. Darkness could not beat light. If the fire was hot enough, no peak was too frozen to burn.
She couldn't reach. The mountain was too tall, its roots too deep. Unlike the unending flames of a true volcano, fed by countless interconnected streams, Mari burned alone. She had only the force of her determination, and there was still too far to go when the magma began to cool.
In the physical world, Mari channelled that incomplete measure of freedom. She couldn't counter the enemy's aura, but she could leap away, hoping that distance would diminish its power.
A hand lashed out, grabbing her wrist. The hand held the full strength of the mountain, and Mari would tear off her own before the force was enough for her to pull free.
Then the pressure vanished completely.
"I've seen worse," a low female voice grudgingly admitted.
Mari turned to face her opponent. She did not fall to her knees, not because her legs had the strength to support her, but only because Gōketsu Mari kneeled before no one.
Mari's strength returned quickly. Her wrist burned, a restoring fire pouring through it and spreading through her body until she could stand tall again. It was the final confirmation she needed.
"Lady Tsunade," she bowed. "I have been looking forward to meeting you."
The other woman returned the bow with what was almost, but not quite, deep enough to be a respectful nod.
Now Mari had a chance to study her, she realized Tsunade of the Three was stunning. Every muscle shaped to perfection. Curves beyond anything a master seduction specialist's body-shaping arts could achieve. Eyes with hints of dark humour and maternal care concealed behind a rampart of indomitable will. Were she ten years younger, or any ordinary shinobi, Mari would have collapsed into a puddle of helpless lust there and then.
But she wasn't ten years younger, and she certainly wasn't an ordinary shinobi. Mari was a professional, with all the experience in the world when it came to giving and receiving intense pleasure while the rational part of her mind watched for every opportunity to suborn, interrogate or assassinate, as the mission demanded. After a brief mental check for genjutsu, she decided that either Tsunade could supercharge someone's libido through pure physical contact or she was just that mind-blowingly hot. Probably both.
She belatedly engaged her brain. Tsunade had opened with brute force, and was now towering over her like a yakuza goon used to solving her problems by hitting them. Yet what she had actually done…
She'd demonstrated her absolute superiority in direct conflict with barely a finger lifted, and shown that she was unbound by social mores by doing so without warning in public. She'd pronounced judgement on Mari, establishing her right to do so. Then she'd extended a helping hand to her, simultaneously an apology, a gesture of respect and an assertion of control. And then she'd done… whatever it was she'd done, whether medical ninjutsu or mastery of body language or genjutsu beyond Mari's ability to detect or whatever. Another assertion of control, and one set on Mari's home ground—she refused to believe that Tsunade was unaware of her specialisation. Tsunade was making no effort to conceal that this was a test of Mari's discipline and composure, of her ability to engage in social combat while her mind and body were at the mercy of the most primal of all emotions, her ability to hold her own when every fibre of her carnal being was screaming to collapse at Tsunade's feet as a willing sex slave.
It had all taken Tsunade maybe three seconds.
Mari couldn't afford to get sucked into Tsunade's pace. If she allowed this woman to lead the interaction, then what might she do in three seconds more? No, Mari needed to use her unique advantages and points of leverage. If she could seize the ship's wheel, she should be able to steer this confrontation at least until the maddening craving for Tsunade's body wore off and she was ready for a proper counterattack.
"Allow me to introduce myself properly," she said calmly, consciously directing her eyes away from Tsunade's breasts and to her face. "I am Gōketsu Mari—"
"That remains to be seen," Tsunade cut her off. "For now, girl, you are coming with me."
She turned and began to walk off.
Mari couldn't even hate her. It was too rare to be able to face off against a fellow master in her particular art.
Tsunade's move left her with a dilemma. Mari could turn away and leave. If she did, she would be publicly conceding defeat, allowing Tsunade to set the terms of their next encounter and being blatantly rude in a way Tsunade would surely be able to exploit later (while herself having a persona immune to accusations of rudeness). But if she followed, it would be an unambiguous act of submission, both taking orders and acknowledging that her own plans weren't as important as Tsunade's.
Mari had to take a third option.
"If you have something you wish to discuss, you will be welcome at the Gōketsu compound tomorrow morning," she said to Tsunade's retreating back. "Tonight, I'm afraid I have a prior engagement."
Tsunade stopped, but did not turn around. "You're cancelling it," she said over her shoulder.
An instant counter. Beautiful. Just like watching Tsunade walk away.
"One doesn't cancel engagements with the Hokage," Mari said sweetly. Advantages. Points of leverage. Not all confrontations were won head-on.
It was enough to make Tsunade face her again. Point scored.
"You shouldn't disrespect your elders, girl," Tsunade said, simultaneously waving away Mari's attack and the fact that Jiraiya was as much of an elder as she was. The audacity of it was breathtaking. "I've half a mind to strip you naked and spank you right here in the middle of the shopping district."
Two could play at that game.
"Not my kink, I'm afraid. But if you insist, I'd be happy to experiment in private." As the words left her mouth, Mari was disturbed by the extent to which she meant them.
Tsunade took a step towards her. Then another.
"You know," she said casually, "I'm the closest thing Jiraiya has to a sister. I'm also the reason why Leaf has the world's biggest army, and why so much of it is alive and fit for duty. In this village, I could do anything I wanted to you and people would just sigh and say Tsunade's at it again. It'd probably make things less complicated if I avoided irreparable damage, but then again there's very little I can't repair if I try hard enough."
The more Mari looked at the approaching Tsunade, the more she believed her. If Mari let herself be defeated here, she failed the test. If she failed the test, it was entirely plausible for Tsunade to decide she was unworthy to be Jiraiya's wife, and destroy her credibility as Gōketsu Clan matriarch right here, right now, with a public spanking. Jiraiya might even be forced to cut her loose to minimise the damage. And while he would probably be furious with Tsunade for it, in the end he'd have to choose her over some sexy jōnin he'd only known for a couple of years. Tsunade might even make it up to him by explicitly throwing her support behind his reign and taking a more active role in Leaf, which again would be worth more than Mari's both at home and abroad. It was a ridiculous scenario, but Mari could believe it of this tempestuous woman who held nothing back and took no prisoners.
Mari had time for one move.
It couldn't be an attack. Anything Tsunade could classify as "disrespecting one's elders" was an instant loss.
It couldn't be escape. Anything Tsunade might consider abdication was an instant loss.
It couldn't be defence, like appeasement or deflection or relying on outside help. In the face of a direct strike, those would make her look weak, and looking weak in front of Tsunade was an instant loss.
Tsunade was getting closer with her unhurried walk. It created a sense of mounting psychological pressure while being overtly inoffensive and not committing her to any particular course of action. Damn, she wanted this woman.
Ironically, it was that thought, which she might not have had if Tsunade hadn't meddled with her mind, that fired the chain of associations that gave Mari the answer.
Tsunade. Sex. Hookups. Bars. Drinking.
Tsunade had a reputation. There was only one place she could have been trying to take Mari for a serious talk while continuing to test her. A place where she could not refuse to go, even though agreeing would give Mari the initiative.
"Lady Tsunade," Mari said, "would you care to join me for a drink?"
Tsunade gave a barking laugh. "I know just the place, girl. But you're buying."
It might not have been victory, but it was not yet defeat.
-o-
"Lady Tsunade," the barman bowed politely. "And you've brought Lady Gōketsu, I see. Lady Gōketsu, would you like to reserve a room for the night, or should I have some bearers readied to carry you home?"
A room for the night, Mari's lecherous mind echoed.
"Can it, Shūji," Tsunade snorted. "If this one has the nerve to pass out on me, I'm chucking her in the alley outside with the rest of the trash. Now bring me my usual."
"Of course, Lady Tsunade. And Lady Gōketsu?"
There was only one possible response.
"I'll have what she's having."
The barman's eyes widened a little. "Are you quite sure you don't want to—"
They weren't in public anymore, not really. If Mari was going to build rapport, now was the time.
"I'm fine," she said. "They didn't call me the Woman With the Iron Liver back in Mist for nothing." Or at all, though she felt the title would have been deserved.
The barman left and returned so quickly it had to be ninjutsu.
"Your drinks, my ladies," he said, offering each of them a thick mug that looked like it could survive being wrapped in exploding tags and then detonated.
Inside, a dark liquid bubbled ominously. Mari was fairly sure that cold drinks shouldn't bubble. Naturally, Tsunade was watching to see what she'd do.
"To new friends," she said, moving the mug towards Tsunade indicatively before taking a mouthful.
That initial sensation was probably her tongue burning to ashes in her mouth. Or maybe it was the roof of her mouth melting into nothingness. Whichever it was, it was bliss compared to what the drink did to the back of her throat, to say nothing of the rest of her oesophagus. By the time it arrived in her stomach, Mari no longer believed the liquid she'd been served was intended for human or animal consumption. It was probably a bodily fluid of some particularly horrific chakra beast.
On the other hand, she was still conscious and capable of lucid thought, so she'd had worse.
Tsunade locked eyes with her.
"To old enemies," she said, mirroring Mari's toasting gesture.
Test still going, then. Mari had expected nothing less.
"So," Tsunade said after knocking back a mugful of the mysterious liquid as if it was nothing. "I hear you stabbed your comrades in the back, abandoned the next lot to their deaths, ran around murdering innocents for a while and then bribed your way into Jiraiya's bed."
Opening with a direct assault again. This time Mari was more ready. She was starting to get a handle on Tsunade's behavioural tendencies and what might appeal to them. Pragmatism. Directness. Some cynicism, but she wasn't sure how much yet. Overstepping the mark there could be deadly, the Will of Fire being what it was. The important thing, the crucial thing, was not to sound like she was justifying herself. The second she did that, Tsunade would rip into her like a thresher shark into a whale.
"Some things are worth dying for," Mari said coolly. "Politics isn't one of them. And if you think it takes bribery for Jiraiya to take a gorgeous woman to bed, you clearly don't know him as well as I thought."
Tsunade laughed. "More like it takes bribery to make him lay off once he's set his sights on you. You're not wrong there, Inoue."
The veneer of female solidarity concealed a subtle barb, portraying Jiraiya as a skirt-chaser who saw Mari as nothing more than another conquest. Tsunade would be watching to see whether she'd notice, or miss it in favour of the more obvious attack. And of course, if Mari wanted to pass the test, she'd have to signal that she'd noticed, and retaliate appropriately, without getting in her own way as she addressed the primary offensive.
The obvious means of retaliation, whether flippant or mocking, were out. Tsunade had made that clear enough earlier. To insult her directly was to move the test into the realm of direct confrontation, where Tsunade stood ready to crush her without mercy. But mere gentle correction represented a loss of tempo. That was unacceptable in both relative and absolute terms, because Mari knew she was on a time limit. If she kept pace with Tsunade drink-wise, then she had to pass the test before she became too drunk to play—and there was every possibility that Tsunade had some kind of detoxification technique up her sleeve to make sure Mari went down first. Damn medic-nin. At least with artillery ninjutsu you knew what you were facing.
"I'm sure Jiraiya's had hundreds of women in his life," she said, "but I'm the only one he created a new clan for. I can see why it's taking time for you to get used to the name."
Tsunade gave her a pitying look. "You don't have a name anymore, girl. You can worship paperwork all you like, but by Leaf law, you're not married until you've taken your vows in a traditional wedding. Dates back to my grandfather's day, before Uncle Tobirama and his clique invented bureaucracy. You've given up your missing-nin name, and now you're nothing."
That hit Mari where it hurt. A big, beautiful wedding ceremony, with pretty dresses and people cheering and cherry blossoms and a handsome groom and a lawful representative of the Mizukage reading out the Oaths of Binding Allegiance. A normal dream for normal girls. The kind she forgot after she stopped being a normal girl and became herself. She was allowed that dream again now, only for Jiraiya to keep putting it off and off for reasons that always made perfect sense and never satisfied.
Tsunade sensed weakness.
"He's a commitment-phobe. Trust me, I would know. Hates feeling trapped, which is why he's putting off the wedding as hard as he can."
Mari opened her mouth.
Tsunade didn't let her speak. "He'll hate you too, for trapping him, even though it was his decision more than anyone else's. He'll drive you away, and if you've hitched your cart to his, you'll be left with nothing. He's Hokage now. His good is the good of the village, and he's never hesitated to get rid of people for the good of the village."
Mari was reeling now. Of course she felt insecure about the marriage. Who wouldn't? It was a political marriage to a man who hadn't had a chance to fall in love with her, and maybe never would, who was under countless different sorts of pressure and who had the kind of power that, judging by Mist, could corrupt deeply and irredeemably. And that was just the biggest of the many cracks in their new life.
The lupchanzen piss (as she'd named the drink after its taste and its hostile efforts to take over her brain) wasn't helping, as Tsunade drank it like water and forced Mari to match her pace lest she look weak. She wasn't fully drunk yet, but she could sense her fine motor control starting to degrade into crude groping… mmm, crude groping… and the gradual decline in her supercharged libido was being balanced out by a similar decline in her inhibitions.
Would it really be such a bad thing if she pounced Tsunade there and then? Surely if she let her powers of seduction do the talking, she'd have better odds than if she trusted to her increasingly tangled tongue? Mmm, tongue…
This was getting serious. Mari had to go for a knockout blow now, while she was still capable of thinking clearly.
"Everyone can betray you," she finally said. "No one is safe. In Mist, if somebody reports you for treason, they get a reward, and anything can count as treason if the state wants your stuff or the right people get a big enough bribe. Or if someone fails to report something you've done that counts as treason, they might be the ones who get taken away.
"But you know what? People still trust each other. People still share secrets, and let strangers into their lives, and fall in love and get married even though a quarter of all denunciations come from family members.
"I've been betrayed by parents. Close relatives. Lovers. I've betrayed more people than I can count—it was my full-time job for over a decade, and enough of it spilled over into my private life to make me sick. I've seen all the treachery human nature has to offer.
"But eventually you've got two choices."
She took a swig of lupchanzen piss to focus her thoughts, which in itself said something about how far gone she was.
"Either you give up on humanity and go hide in the woods behind a thousand explosive traps. Or you draw a line.
"I've chosen to trust my kids. I've chosen to trust Jiraiya. Maybe one of them will betray me. Maybe all of them will. If they do, fuck it. I'll deal with it then. It'll take more than a dagger in the back to put Gōketsu Mari down.
"But until the day I feel that dagger in my back, I'm going to keep trusting my family. That's where I've drawn my line."
The room was getting blurry now. She could see Tsunade's enormous breasts in front of her, and found herself thinking they'd make an excellent pillow.
"Here," Tsunade pressed a small soldier pill into her hand. "Swallow this."
Mari dazedly obeyed, and over about ten seconds the room came back into focus.
"Detox pill?"
"Close enough for an enka ballad," Tsunade said. Mari couldn't help noticing that her voice was perfectly sober even though she hadn't swallowed anything herself.
Tsunade pulled a glass jar out of her sleeve.
"Here."
Mari examined the jar. It was filled with small blue spheres. "What are these?"
"Fucking Thunder God Pill," Tsunade said proudly. "For when you want your lover to be in all the right places at the same time. Proprietary formula."
Mari raised an eyebrow.
"Give him one pill if you want a night to remember. Two if you don't think you'll need to walk for the next few days."
"What's the maximum safe dose?" Mari asked in fascination.
"Three," Tsunade rolled her eyes. "I'd tell you not to do it, but I already know you're going to. So instead I'll just say to start in the morning, book the day off, and then book the next three off as well so you can recover."
"Then… if you're giving them to me…"
"Early honeymoon gift," Tsunade said. "And tell Jiraiya that if I don't get a wedding invitation delivered to me by this time next month, then I'll do to him what I did to Orochimaru after the Snakes in My Pants Incident."
"The what?"
Tsunade smirked.
"I'll tell you when you're older. Shūji, make sure the girl gets home safely, all right?"
She headed for the door.
"Wait," Mari called out. She tried to stand, but apparently the detox pill wasn't that fast-acting. "The thing you did to me before. What was it?"
"Trade secret," Tsunade said. Then she leaned over to Mari's ear. "It multiplies, though. Doesn't add. You take some time to think about that before I'm next in town."
Mari blinked. "You said you were the closest thing Jiraiya had to a sister."
Tsunade shrugged. "I'm also head of the League of Jiraiya's Pissed-Off Exes. Life is complicated."
Not that Mari was exactly a poster child for simple relationships, having only recently married her boss and adopted a girl still more than a little in love with her.
"It's getting late," Tsunade said, "and I still need to scare the bejeezus out of little Kabuto before I head home. Wouldn't want him getting sloppy just because he thinks he's got me 'handled'.
"I'll see you around… sister-in-law."
