Tsunade never wins. Gambling and drinking are her vices and she's probably racked up more debt than Konoha's coffers can pay for, but she continues to accrue even more. Drowning herself in sake and seeking solace at the bottom of her cup, she's spent years idling by. Trying to forget everything. Her lover. Her brother. Her village.
For a moment. A short moment (though, her definition of short is quite questionable). All is good and well. She manages to drink her problems away, the liquid fire pouring through her veins, purifying her body from the demons she harbors in her mind.
And then a little girl who introduces herself as Mouse shows up in town. A pebble, dropping into the calm surface of her metaphorical pond that sends ripples throughout. And ending with a crescendo of a gigantic wave. Mouse gambles through the shatei and the other wakaishu, eventually ending at the Waka gashira of Tanzaku-gumi.
She's their stopgap, a prevention from the other gambling hotshots that come into town thinking they can empty the Tanzaku-gumi's cashbox and walk away with it unharmed. That's how she can still continue to gamble and drink everything away, you see. Konoha eventually stopped sending her the rest of her inheritance, it had run out it seems. The group shouldered her debt as long as she did this for them.
Make them cocky, then make them regret. That's how this whole thing works. She'd lose to them, let it get to their heads and after they've made a hefty sum of ryo, the Oyabun comes with his men and deals with them in kind.
They keep coming. She's never out of a job.
____
It's the scent of tar and tobacco mixed with some putrid musk again, the smell produced by the mixture is so rancid that it makes you want to puke your guts out. Your stomach drops and your veins turn icy cold.
You had this in the bag, counted all the fucking cards, calculated all your probabilities but lady luck isn't with you today.
The situation stumps you. A bead of cold sweat rolls down the side of your face as you look at the cards in your hands. No matter how much you reshuffle the cards in your hand, you couldn't seem to get a combination with enough points to win. The smug expression on Tsunade's face pushes you into the far corners of your mind. Her posture tells you everything you need to know, it seems like this is your first and last loss in Hanafuda.
For the first time, you slump backwards to lean on your cello case with defeat in your eyes as you shuffle the cards in your hand together.
Shizune balks visibly at the cards in Tsunade's hand, eyes round and alert as she keeps switching back and forth between looking at you and looking back at her cards. "Ah. Tsunade-sama. You..." Her voice trails off and she presses her lips together like she's about to spill a secret.
Tsunade's crimson painted lips turn up in a triumphant smile as she places her five cards down, unveiling them in similar theatrics as the last time you played against her.
She waves a pale palm over the cards to reveal them one by one.
"Goko." She says but she doesn't stop there, turning your knuckles bone-white from how hard you're gripping the edge of the table.
There are three more cards in her hands and you think you kind of understand how she felt that time you beat her. The feelings of shame and disappointment wash over you, a bucket of cold water that has been splashed on you like a cruel wake up call. Never have you ever felt such an excruciating feeling travel through your body like a numbing coldness that just fills your lungs up, causing some difficulty of breathing.
She slams the rest of her cards on the table, face up. The boar. The deer and the butterfly. Your winning combination is stolen from you, just like that. It's not really that you feel a sense of ownership towards your winning Hanafuda combination, it's just the fact that it's yours. She just used it to beat you.
"Inoshikacho. I win."
Your eyes turn dull and everyone gasps loudly in surprise. Murmurs rumble through the crowd like a tidal wave and everyone has shock wrangled all over their faces. Lady luck is a fickle mistress indeed, and she's given you bad cards this time. Literally.
"The legendary loser won?"
"Tsunade-hime's unlucky streak has been broken?"
"It's her first win in like, forever."
Shizune looks grim while Tsunade's smile remains firm on her face as she scoops the pile of ryo to her side of the table, giving the other men an eyeful of her ample bosom that just seems to be spilling from her shirt. The dark-haired assistant places a firm hand on her master's shoulder, leaning forward to whisper something in her ear. Tsunade now has a matching expression, equally grim and serious.
Your posture molds itself into something rigid and polite, bending waist-up in a deep bow, "Thank you for the game and the opportunity to play against you. Congratulations on your win, Tsunade-san. Shizune-san. Good tidings to you both."
This isn't your haven anymore. You've lost. All the opulence and decadence of this place has lost its glitter and charm, nothing but a gilded gold shell. It leaves a dirty, murky feeling in your mouth like you've just swallowed a whole bucket of blackened tar.
You're about to leave, sliding the straps of the cello bag around your torso when the older blonde woman steps into view and when you shift your gaze to look her in the eyes, she opens her mouth as if she's about to say something but decides not to instead, nibbling gently on her lower lip.
"Tsunade-sama!" Shizune says like she's urging her to say something else but she just steps aside to let you pass.
"It's none of our business." Tsunade murmurs with a hint of sadness in her voice and you walk off, cello bag on your back.
____
Tsunade's only won two times in her life before this.
The first was a relatively small lottery back in Konoha, run by the collective of business owners in an attempt to increase morale of the other shinobi before the war started. The grand prize was an all expenses paid two month trip to Tanzaku-gai. A honeymoon that she secured for Dan and her after the war has ended and everything goes back to normal.
Second, a lucky draw during one of Konoha's local festivals. She'd won a stuffed toy for her brother, Nawaki. A teddy bear, if she recalls. He exchanged it for a leather inner-armor to wear under his flak jacket. She remembers how disappointed she feels to see him asking if he was able to switch it out for something more practical, since there's a war. The Akimichi clans-member manning the stall obliged.
Then the war happened a mere eight hours after, before the crack of the dawn.
Nothing good ever happens when she wins.
____
"You're a little too young to be gambling, aren't you?" Anko says, examining her nail beds as she leans casually against the inn's entrance. You blink at her once. Twice. Then examining her posture to see she's angry with you or not. The whole process takes about five seconds in your mind before you sufficiently deem that she isn't.
You're proficient at this, since you've been evading your authority figures ever since you gained sentience at around two or three or so. Being able to avoid the Masks and the other shinobi that Father has personally ordered to watch you. If anything, this is where you truly shine, despite the color of your chakra.
It's also appropriately ironic, considering the color your chakra (blindingly white, according to Keirai. Shine. Get it?).
You steel your shoulders and carve a polite smile on your face, a porcelain smile. A fragile smile, "There isn't anything that forbids shinobi from having some leisure time if it doesn't interfere with the mission, right?"
Something flickers through her features, but it's gone as fast as you catch a glimpse of it.
"Heh, you're right. You know your rules well." The corner of her lips curve into a lopsided smirk then lowering her arms to cross in front of her chest.
"All the easier to bend." You smile and walk past her.
It doesn't reach your eyes.
____
Anko leans over the railings leaning the side of her face against the surface of the wooden railings port-side, dango stick tipping precariously from the edge of her lips as she watches the sunlight refracting off the surface of the water. Glinting gold specks flickering in and out of existence like the glimmer of fish scales as the ship pushes forward to Izemajima; an island state close to the coast of the main island of the Land of Water.
Thoughts of that conversation she had with you when she caught you, flooded her mind at every opportune moment. It's strange, how you responded. All the easier to bend. Implying that you bent rules all the time. Implying that you're able to bend rules because you know them too well.
Not a response that a stuck up clan-brat from the Main family should be giving. Her days back in the orphanage are flooding the back of her mind.
She thinks she's getting somewhere with trying to categorize you, but somehow you've become even more of a mystery to her.
____
The moment she and her squad received the forged papers, they immediately took off to the Land of Waves to find a barge that would transport everyone to the Land of Water. Somehow she had managed to convince the city-state to smuggle them over, under guise of cargo. They demanded a building permit, a bridge building permit from Fire. Seemed like a fairly simple thing to grant for an infiltration mission. Any Wave merchants coming into the country would just improve the economy, both ways.
It's a win win.
____
You cling onto the edge of Anko's fingers with your own small palm, making yourself as small and demure as you possible can, casting your gaze on the gravelly ground and squeezing your shoulders in a decent imitation of a frightened little kid. Yawaraka grips on your other shoulder tightly, almost leaving a bruise. You'd think his nervousness would show on his face, but his expression is schooled into something of fear and worry. Ataru stands behind you and beside Yawaraka, you couldn't see his face but you could imagine it being similar.
The gruff man with deeply lined jowls scrutinizes all of you with a deeply critical gaze, glancing at your identification papers then back at you. He's wearing a short kimono, the sleeves pulled back with a long strip of cloth with a leather apron over his front. His hair is pulled back in a neat bun and his piercing eyes sends a tremble of fear down your back.
He has a spotty complexion, skin freckled with darker flecks of discoloration probably caused by the harsh afternoon sun and the salty seawater. Something that's common among the other islanders, making you feel a little out of place with your relatively even skin tone. Especially those who make their livelihoods by the water.
"Ya' say ya'll are from the mainland, miss?" The way he speaks is almost like a growl, guttural and deep. Something fierce that emphasizes his authority in the port. Something backwoods in his accent too.
"Y-yes. We hear Izenajima is accepting refugees. It's horrible back in the mainland." Anko's voice trembles ever so slightly, giving off the illusion of vulnerability, "Our parents were killed. By our kindly neighbors, no less! We just grabbed what we could and ran to the nearest port." She clutches you and Yawaraka closer to her as a single crystalline tear rolls down her cheek.
It's almost visible, the way his expression melts into one of pity before it hardens into something stern and all of you know that you've got him in the palm of your hand. Well. Not yours, but Anko's hand.
Anko pouts and gives him her best puppy dog eyes, "Please Banri-san, let us in. We'd be so, so grateful to you if you did. Just this once? We have a relative here and I'm sure she'd let us stay with her." She barely stops her tone from reaching the point of groveling as she slips her fingers from yours to grab his bare upper arm, giving it a light squeeze.
Ataru is just trying not to let his cringing become evident on his face.
Banri lets out an involuntary grunt, seemingly taken aback by how forward Anko is being, considering the redness on his tan cheeks and the tension between his shoulders, "Well. I suppose I could let ya' and ya' family in. There's big unrest in Water. Tha' civil war's making everything gon' ta' shit. Not many merchant ships come by anymore. Ya're not the first group of refugees in these parts."
You perk your ears up at that. Civil War? It was implied briefly in the Hokage's Office.
Anko sighs, a soft little puff, letting her hand linger a little longer than normal on his arm before sliding it downwards with a subtle motion, "You're right. Thank you so much for your graciousness and for letting us in." She flashes him a small smile that causes him to redden again before ushering the three of you towards the inner districts.
The layout of Izemajima is similar to Tanzaku-Gai, just the way the districts are fanning out from the main castle and you can easily tell that this is a port city by the clothes that the other civilians wear. Sleeves tied back and hems tucked into their obi to prevent them from getting wet. The port is all dark wooden planks, the light tap-tapping of bare feet and sandals are very common sounds in the background with the swaying and the creaking of the boats by the ports. Buildings and houses are littered around haphazardly everywhere, with their roofs tapered into a singular point and white water-proof plaster on the outside walls.
Overall, you'd say that the word 'weathered' summarizes the island concisely. That, and 'backwoods'. Konoha has more updated architecture compared to the quaint town of Izema.
It's not as poverty-stricken like that city back in Waves, they have a section of land that is split into three in the far distance filled with the paleness of buckwheat flowers dotting the horizon, greens that you assume are soybeans and a golden flaxen color of wheat. From the crops that they're growing, Izemajima's staple foods would be soba and shoyu. Maybe some seafood as well?
As you go deeper into the city, your footsteps turn from a soft squelch of dirt and mud paths to the light tapping of paved roads. The way the people dressed around you is different as well, they don't wear their sleeves back and let the hems off their robes hang around their ankles. There are more people in more modern clothing but they're still a couple of years late from the fashion in Konoha.
"What's up with Water's sense of style anyway? Tacky camo and ribbed turtlenecks." Yawaraka picks at his clothing with obvious distaste on his face, holding the edge of his collar with just the tip of his fingers as if he was picking up a piece of trash.
"That's offensive. Try not to shit on the culture that you're supposed to be from." Ataru sighs, his fingers find its way to one of the fangs around his necklace again. A piece of him that he tries to keep on him at all times, you've noticed.
"I rather like it. It accentuates the shape of my body," Anko grins, cupping the air in front of her chest with quick motions of her palms, "I think it shows off my chest pretty well too. Maybe that's why Banri-san let us in."
Yawaraka tries not to let his gaze wander to Anko's chest.
A mild displeasure creeps up to your neck as you look down at your own.
Girls stop growing around eighteen right? You still have some time left.
All three of you are wearing clothes that are culturally appropriate for citizens of the Land of Water, all of your kimonos are in various hues of ocean blue and teals with some hint of of wear and tear on the fabric of the kimonos. Anko has a tight ribbed turtleneck dress with a robe over her shoulders, like the way she'd wear her beige overcoat normally.
Yawaraka is wearing his kimono all proper with the folds tucked in neatly in his obi, which also doubles as an apron and Ataru is the complete opposite, wearing only the right shoulder of his kimono. The other sleeve hangs loosely by his waist, secured in place by a long sash. He also had the edges of his kimono tucked in his sash to reveal the baggy pants he's wearing underneath ending with the zori that you got him earlier.
"They're comfortable. Thanks. I-uh, appreciate them." He says, scratching the back of his head sheepishly as he stands before you, not ever meeting your gaze for longer than a second when you notice that he's wearing your gift.
Yawaraka doesn't say anything. He just shuffles closer to you, making sure to make the loudest noise possible as he drags his feet over the uneven surface of concrete. He runs his hand through his hair, then ending it with a haughty hair flip and a 'hmph' when you notice that he is wearing yours too. Ah. Ino taught you about those kind of people. Tsundere. Right?
He looks like he's trying to get your attention to his feet but all you think he's doing is breaking it in faster. Or maybe that's what he's actually trying to do. You can't really tell. He looks ridiculous exaggerating his steps like that.
The rest of your gear is sealed in some item scrolls, hiding snugly between the folds of your clothes. Your katana however, is henge'd into a silver clip, dangling from the fabric of your obi. Yawaraka's and Ataru's gear are also sealed in Yawaraka's special sealing scroll, the one that has an upgraded sealing array.
If Banri had conducted a thorough inspection on all of you, including full body pat downs. He'd be sending the lot of you on the boat, back where you came from. That, or locking all of you up.
"Where are we going?" Yawaraka asks, "If we're infiltrating, we'd usually have a safe-house or something, right?"
He's right. Usually a sleeper-agent or a spy would lay the groundwork for the infiltration squad to slip through, the last time you checked with Keirai. He briefed you on everything you need to know, at your behest but that was the last time you saw him.
"Yes. Tell the world we have a safe-house. Us. "Refugees". Having a safe-house," Ataru trails behind behind you, lowering his voice as he deadpans, "Totally not enemy shinobi, infiltrating a neighboring nation."
You laugh softly moving your fingers to your lips to cover any trace of it. It doesn't actually work. Both of them give you a very odd look as you turn away. For a senpai that has a year worth of experience more than you, his observational skills still needs a lot of work. For a Hyuga, with the Byakugan; all seeing eye of a thousand tsubo, he doesn't see that he's not taken any twists or turns in the road. Just going straight ahead, where buildings and districts are more well kept compared to the ports.
That only means one thing.
"Our safe-house is the castle, boys." Anko says. You can hear the grin on her face without even looking at her when she adds, "And mouse-princess."
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A/N: Coming up with totally original content is kinda hard. Research is hard. I hope it paid off with this chapter!
Also can I say I think I'm writing the longest slow burn in the history of slow burns?