The corridor of the Hokage Tower was unnervingly quiet.
"Hokage-sama, I have a report!"
Shizune stood before the heavy door, gripping her docunts so tightly her palm was slick with sweat.
She took a deep breath and raised her hand—paused—then lowered it again.
Sounds leaked out through the crack in the door: broken-up, sticky, like candy lting in your hand in midsumr.
Her face was hot enough to fry an egg.
"Co in."
It was Rei Ao's voice—so calm it sounded like he was just asking a waiter for another glass of water.
Shizune pushed the door open.
Slanted afternoon sunlight cut across the Hokage's office, dust drifting lazily through the beam.
Tsunade-sama was slumped over the desk. Her blonde hair was a ss, spilled across piles of paperwork, her shoulders rising and falling with each breath.
She wasn't wearing the Hokage robe. The white shirt on her back was slightly rumpled, two buttons undone.
She might be the Hokage, but the one truly holding the reins—Rei Ao—looked far more like the "leader" in the room.
"Um… report."
Shizune kept her eyes on the carpet pattern.
"Regarding the relocation and settlent of the incoming groups from Agakure, the housing districts have been assigned according to your instructions. Konan and the others have been temporarily placed near the forr Senju grounds."
She spoke fast, like she was reciting lines.
Tsunade shifted, turning her face slightly out of the crook of her arm.
Her eyes were half-open, lashes damp. Shizune caught a glimpse of that faint, fragile softness in her expression—and quickly looked away.
"Got it."
Tsunade's voice was painfully hoarse. "Do… do what he said."
Rei Ao gave a small laugh.
He tossed his pen back into the holder. tal clicked against wood—ka-da.
"See?" he said to Tsunade. "If you'd cooperated like this earlier, it would've been so much easier."
Tsunade didn't answer.
She braced her arms to sit up, then sank back down again, forehead against the desk.
A border defense proposal on the tabletop got brushed off by her movent and slid to the floor, pages scattering with a loud shaa-laa.
Shizune crouched to pick them up.
The mont her fingers touched the paper, a completely inappropriate thought popped into her head—
How many tis has it been now?
Ever since that "deal" began. Shizune rembered it clearly: how much Tsunade had drunk that day, how many cruel words she'd thrown, and how, in the end, she'd still collapsed—utterly defeated.
One hundred and thirty-one tis.
Shizune had counted.
Every ti, Tsunade would grit her teeth and say, "I'll kill you," and every ti she'd be dragged back into that sa loop.
Now she didn't even say it anymore.
Shizune straightened the docunts and placed them back on the desk.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rei Ao stand. His shadow slid over Tsunade.
He walked to the window, turned his back to the room, and stretched, his spine popping softly.
"Clean up," he said.
Shizune's face burned even hotter.
She looked at Tsunade. Tsunade's eyes were closed, her breathing already even, as if she'd fallen asleep.
But Shizune knew she was faking—Hokage-sama's "playing dead" was about as convincing as her cheating at cards: terrible.
She stepped forward and started cleaning in silence.
Her movents paused. Tsunade didn't open her eyes, but her lashes trembled hard.
Rei Ao leaned comfortably against the windowsill, sunlight gilding half his body with a thin gold edge.
From this angle, Shizune could see the expression in his eyes—half-smiling, half-studying. Not mockery. Not warmth, either.
More like soone watching a lab mouse, curious which way it would run this ti.
"On the Hokage-world side, you handle it yourselves. Just don't start fighting each other."
"You're leaving?" Tsunade finally lifted her head.
"Going to check on Hancock's side."
Rei Ao rolled his wrist once, casually.
"Go watch the fun."
Tsunade stared at him.
Her eyes were red—whether from what had just happened, or sothing else, it was hard to tell.
A few seconds later, she gave a short, bitter laugh. "Get out."
"So heartless?"
Rei Ao walked over and pinched her chin.
Tsunade didn't dodge, but her jaw was clenched tight.
"Hmph. You're not even from this world. You really think you can co and go whenever you please."
Rei Ao let go and patted her cheek—like he was patting a pet.
"Relax. You're all my won. I like you a lot. I'm not going to abandon you."
"I'm heading out. If anything cos up, have Kushina contact ."
Shizune stood there and quietly swallowed—hard—trying to reset her throat.
She looked at Tsunade. Tsunade kept her gaze fixed out the window, shoulders rigid as stone.
Sunlight made the side of her face look almost translucent; Shizune could even see the thin blue veins beneath the skin.
"Tsunade-sama…" Shizune started.
"Shut up."
"!"
Shizune shut up.
She wrung out the towel and continued wiping.
Water droplets rolled down along Tsunade's spine, slipping over overlapping marks—old and new.
The Hokage's body had always been a battlefield. Now it was even more so.
When she cleaned lower, Shizune heard Tsunade inhale sharply.
"Does it hurt?"
"What do you think?"
Tsunade finally turned back.
Her eyes were still red, but her gaze had steadied—the part of her that was "Hokage" clicking back into place.
"Try being treated like a doll for an entire morning."
Shizune's hands shook.
"I'm sorry," she said again.
"Stop saying sorry."
Tsunade braced herself on the desk and stood.
Her legs gave a little. She swayed, and Shizune hurried to support her.
The Hokage's body was fever-hot, like there was a fire burning under her skin.
"Go work," Tsunade said. "There's a mountain of files to approve."
"You don't need to rest…?"
"When I 'rest,' I've already had more than enough of it."
Tsunade tugged at her collar.
Shizune lowered her head.
She packed up the cleaning things and walked toward the door.
When her hand touched the handle, Tsunade's voice drifted from behind her.
"Shizune."
"Yes?"
"Next ti he cos back… make down a bottle first. For courage."
Tsunade had her back to her, her voice flat.
Shizune's nose stung.
She nodded hard, even though Tsunade couldn't see it.
"Yes."
The door closed.
Only Tsunade was left in the office.
She stood there, staring at Konoha's rooftops outside the window.
The village was quiet in the afternoon. From sowhere around Training Ground ca the faint, rhythmic clink of kunai striking—once, twice—steady enough to be irritating.
She walked to the windowsill where Rei Ao had been leaning. The wood still held a trace of warmth.
"Bastard," she muttered.
Then she started laughing.
First her shoulders shook. Then she doubled over, laughing so hard tears spilled out.
The sound echoed through the empty office, hit the walls, bounced back—like a trapped bird.
After about a minute, she straightened up and wiped her face.
"Back to work."
The Hokage robe flew off the coat rack as if pulled by an invisible hand. She caught it and slipped it on.
The sleeves were a little long; she rolled them twice.
Then she sat down in the chair and picked up the top file—the border defense plan, the one that had fallen earlier.
She spun her fountain pen once between her fingers.
The notes she began to write were still wild and forceful, carving straight through the paper.
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