Tsunade was roughly twice as intimidating as the books portrayed her, and that was while she was lounging casually in her seat. Her muscles looked rock solid, her posture, while appalling for somebody who was supposed to be a role model for good health, contained a barely disguised willingness to kill those who disturbed her, and her face managed to radiate "sceptical and unimpressed" no matter what actual expression was on it at the time.
Noburi, sitting at an angle from her, didn't seem fazed by any of this as he chattered excitedly at her and she periodically nodded benevolently, as if she was watching a dog perform its new trick over and over. He also had a drink in front of him, but if nothing else, Akane could trust Tsunade to keep his liver within safe limits.
Noburi looked up at her as she closed the door to the private room, and grinned with pleasant surprise.
"What's up, Akane? This isn't the kind of place I'd expect you to be hanging out."
"Noburi," Akane said tensely, "please leave the two of us alone. I'll owe you a favour."
She couldn't get him caught up in the middle of this, especially if it went wrong and Tsunade decided to resort to violence.
Noburi glanced at Tsunade, who was watching him with an unreadable look on her face. Then back at Akane. Then at Tsunade again.
The woman was turning this into a contest over his loyalty just by sitting there and doing nothing in particular. Well, Akane had known from the start what kind of battle she was in for.
"Please go," she said. "I accept full responsibility for offending Tsunade."
Noburi gave Tsunade a last anxious glance, saw no change of expression there, and made a quick escape. Akane breathed a sigh of relief, though only on the inside.
"Do you know what happened to the last person who offended me?"
Akane could make an educated guess. Like every literate girl whose parents bought her books, she'd read about Tsunade. Unlike most literate girls, she'd had a lot of time in which to do little but read about topics that interested her—she hadn't realised until long afterwards how much of the family income her parents must have allocated to fuelling her reading habit after she fell ill.
"You put him in hospital, and made him pay for the privilege of having you bring him out again."
"That's right. And
he thought he was being polite."
A mountain fell on Akane.
If she'd tried to stay standing tall, it would surely have crushed her spine, followed by everything else. She didn't try. Standing tall didn't matter. Her bones didn't matter. On this scale, nothing mattered.
She could distantly feel herself fall to the floor. The impact should have hurt, but even that didn't matter.
She was going to die here. She didn't know why she hadn't died already.
There was some reason. Something she was here to do. Why she still existed. To protect. Something. Someone. Someone she knew. Someone she'd seen. Just now.
Mari-sensei.
The mountain was still on top of her. "Don't care," she forced out. "Will… protect…"
She tried to look up. Couldn't. Couldn't move her eyes. Everything was a blur anyway.
She needed strength. Couldn't lift a mountain. Had to keep going. Had to protect. Needed strength.
"Youth," she hissed. "Can't destroy youth…"
The mountain disappeared as Tsunade roared with laughter.
"Gender-swapped Rock Lee, are you? Guess I'm not the only surgeon with a sense of humour."
The room slowly came into focus. Akane's arms regained mobility before her legs and she gradually pushed herself up into a kneeling position, stayed there until she felt balanced, and then leveraged her legs into place. She stood up and waited for the room to stop swaying.
Tsunade hadn't moved an inch throughout the whole thing.
"Not… Rock Lee…" Akane said slowly so as not to stumble over her own tongue. "There's more than one kind of youth."
"But it all comes in green."
That was unfair. Granted, Akane owned several very fine youthsuits (as Hazō had dubbed them, and now she couldn't get the word out of her head), but right now she was wearing her best cuddle clothes (also as described by Hazō, and maybe she should look into replacing her wardrobe), and it was a pure coincidence that those also happened to be all-green.
"Now, girl, why shouldn't I just pound you into dust for interrupting my conversation?"
Was there a reason? She can't have gone through that near-death experience for nothing, right?
Oh, that was it.
"Because then you won't hear what I have to say," Akane said, making sure her voice didn't shake. Controlled breathing was everything, and so was not showing weakness until she was out of the room. "You can always crush me after that."
Tsunade snorted. "Assuming I care. Go finish Noburi's drink so I haven't wasted my money."
"It is unyouthful to cloud one's mind with alcohol," Akane said resolutely, while keenly aware that she was only accumulating reasons for Tsunade to kill her.
"Not endearing yourself to me, girl," Tsunade said. "Now why are you wasting my time? Five words or less."
Akane couldn't afford to hesitate. "Want Mari-sensei's treatment explained."
"Do you know what I did to the last person who tried to make me justify myself?"
"I don't think it matters," Akane said. "You're not going to do the same thing as last time just because it's the same thing as last time."
"Doesn't mean I won't." Tsunade shifted into a less casual pose. "I don't like people who think they can predict me."
People always thought being predictable was a bad thing. And it was, when you were facing an enemy or making the same mistakes over and over. But nobody seemed to understand that the rest of the time… you had to be predictable if you wanted to be reliable.
But that was a discussion for another day, assuming Akane walked out of here alive
and capable of speech,
and Tsunade was interested in ever speaking with her again. Tsunade probably wasn't a necromancer, so one out of three would do for now.
Akane had read enough about Tsunade. She wasn't a raving lunatic who just happened to be the best healer in the world. There were rules to the game.
"Please tell me why you prescribed that treatment to Mari-sensei," she said simply.
That feeling of pressure returned. It was lighter this time, and Akane was more ready for it, so she was able to avoid falling to the floor by folding her arms onto the table in front of her and letting it take most of the mountain's weight. Some background part of her mind felt a flash of surprise that the table was still in one piece.
"No."
"Why… not?"
"I don't need to give a reason. There's only one person that gets to ask me to justify myself, and her name is Tsunade."
She was here to protect Mari-sensei. That was why she was here. It didn't matter how crushed she got. She just had to protect Mari-sensei. And to do that… she had to be able to think. She'd come here with some kind of question… for when Tsunade refused.
"If you don't explain yourself to anyone… how do you know you haven't done things wrong?"
The pressure disappeared again, as if Tsunade was toying with her.
"I'm the best doctor there is by a mile, girl. Even if I make a mistake, there's no one who could ever catch it for me. And if your best argument is 'Some random carpenter's daughter can spot the holes in your treatment plan', then I think it's time your spine and I had a short but enlightening conversation."
"I know Mari-sensei better than you do," Akane said. "What you're doing won't work."
Finally, Tsunade looked like something other than contemptuous. "Oh, this should be good. Hit me, second best doctor in the world. What am I doing?"
"You're making sure she gets lots of youthful outdoor exercise so she's too tired to think unhappy thoughts. You're having her help Kagome with the arrays so she's being helpful to her family. And you're keeping her silent so she can't talk to people and then go into a cycle of blaming herself for manipulating people again. Oh, and the youthful outdoor exercise will probably make her feel better in general because that's what youth does. Is that right?"
"I don't want to hear the word 'youth' one more time in this conversation."
Akane could do that. Long months spent by Keiko's side had taught her that, with sufficient effort, one could temporarily suppress the instinct to talk about youth and youthfulness. It was a skill she suspected Rock Lee had never learned.
"All right, Ishihara, maybe you've got the basics," Tsunade said grudgingly, putting down her mug. The smell of the drink was so strong it felt like a punch to the face. "You think I can do better?"
Tsunade had never given her a chance to introduce herself. That had to be important, but Akane couldn't take the time to analyse.
"You're making her do busywork and she knows it," Akane said firmly. "Nobody cares about improving the trap arrays except Kagome, and maybe Hazō when he's bored, which he hardly ever is. Mari-sensei might hate her talents right now, but deep down she's proud of being the smart one while other people are better suited to grunt work. Pointless manual labour is only going to make her feel worse. So's getting herself dirty digging ditches all the time. She's vain, and there must be some way to play on that vanity to motivate her to start taking care of herself.
"I get why you don't want her to talk to people. I don't know enough about healing to say whether that's right. But not having people talk to
her is wrong. Kagome is a poor conversationalist, and if she's alone with him all day, she's going to feel isolated. You can't let someone be isolated when they're unhappy."
Tsunade picked up her mug and took a drink. "And your better idea is what, exactly?"
"I'd get her to build something useful, like a Lightning-style meditation garden, with the grey sand and the symbolically-placed rocks. I'd have to read up on how to make them, but it isn't complicated, and making one is supposed to be a form of meditation in itself. Every few years, the sages take them apart and start from scratch in order to keep their minds fresh. And I'd encourage people to talk to her when they're home and have a spare minute. Tell them how their day's going, give her news from outside the compound, share their worries—everything they'd talk about anyway. I'd come by every day I could."
"Mm-hmm. And supposing I tell you that you don't get to interfere with the doctor-patient relationship and had better back off while I'm feeling merciful?"
Akane had to channel the Spirit of Youth very, very hard.
"Then I will do all of the things I just said anyway."
Tsunade choked on her drink.
"Say that again."
"I will do all the things I just said anyway," Akane repeated. It was easier than the first time. "You're not in the chain of command, so you can't order me not to. If you're going to stop me… it'll have to be through force."
Technically, Tsunade could just ask the Hokage, but that would mean getting someone else to solve her problems for her. Akane was betting, with very high stakes, that Tsunade wouldn't be able to do it.
Tsunade was staring at her incredulously. "How much of a death wish do you have, girl?"
"I don't. But I don't have any leverage over you that I could use without hurting the people I love—and I have to do my best."
She met Tsunade's gaze. She wasn't strong enough to hold it for any length of time, but she only needed a few seconds.
"A day to celebrate Kagome's birthday. A day to read. A day to say goodbye to the others. After that, I'll come to the compound in the morning… and you do what you have to."
"December 17th," Tsunade said with a grim finality. "I'll be there."