Chimæra Fabricatus [Naruto]

A gentle breeze rustled the curtains of Sumika's open balcony window, the same balcony she'd spent the previous night gazing out into the sky from.

The view now was much less interesting, as the grey mid-afternoon sky held not a star in sight, so Sumika retreated back inside to sit on the guestroom's bed.

It had only been a short time since she'd parted from Tsunade after the medical exam, but the girl found herself a bit at a loss for what to do.

All in all, though contrary to her expectations, the medical exam Tsunade conducted was rather underwhelming. Well, she supposed it went well enough in the sense that she wasn't in any immediate medical danger. That was certainly something to be thankful for, right?

Yet, though Sumika had nerved herself up to speak her own unspeakable truths, the opportunity to do so... was somewhat refreshingly absent. And at the same time, why did a tiny corner of her heart harbor this... unease? Disappointment? She knew not even what to call it.

In truth, she'd been so worked up with excitement and tension all day that, in retrospect, it left her feeling somewhat foolish. Foolish in a multitude of ways, actually, and the conflicting feelings about that were more than a little distracting. There was still plenty of more serious matters to think about after all, especially Lady Mito's questions still lingering on the edges of her mind.

Sumika figured that... what she really wanted to do right now was get some answers from the formidable old woman.

It seemed that would still take a while, and really she hadn't much cause to complain, since it was for the girl's own sake that Lady Mito was so busy. Rationalizing it this way didn't much help abate the discontent in her heart, but Sumika was used to testing her patience and suppressing impulses. But still... she at least wanted to convey the matter regarding the cracked mask and what happened in the depths of the Yamakuni Sanctuary.

On the way back to her room, Sumika had mentioned her desire to speak with Lady Mito to Geki, as the familiar demon-masked ANBU had escorted her. All she got in response was a confirmation that her message would be relayed sometime today. If anything would actually come of it, well, that was less certain.

Placing a hand to the earmuffs concealed around her neck, the girl rubbed at its shiny steel and grey cloth. The accessory tool's presence still reminded her of Tsunade, strangely offering some comfort not unlike that which Sumika got from wearing her heirloom hair ornament.

Really, she'd been able to put off her curiosity mostly because Tsunade had brought out all manner of other curiosities to occupy the girl's attention. The results being more than a few realizations about her newer feelings, her likes and dislikes. And on top of all that, more prospective insight about her health, conducted in the safety of secrecy? That was more than enough to grasp her attention.

But what Tsunade had found...

Recalling the events in the examination room once more, Sumika stared blankly off into the distance. It seemed that for a long time, the Sannin had struggled with something, but Sumika wouldn't know what with. Moreover, near the end of the exam, the older woman's smile seemed a bit... cramped.

Though Sumika was immensely curious about her body's condition, again the strange atmosphere and seemingly-simple results left her feeling unbalanced.

All told, she'd merely learned that she was in good health for what she'd endured, and that there were no exceptional problems to focus on or consider besides continuing to ramp up a healthy diet. Tsunade's voice held a note of genuine surprise to it when mentioning as much, but that somehow left Sumika feeling only partially reassured.

Especially since... after what she'd gone though on Mt. Shumisen... appearing normal somehow felt even more concerning. Because her body had most definitely changed from the 'normal' it had been.

It got her to thinking some... unpleasantly disturbing thoughts. For if any physical alterations went undetected, would she be able to properly prepare for... would potential unforeseen consequences remain unforeseen?
Or even more, if it was her mind that was dangerously effected?
Should she risk explaining this worry... preemptively?

Clenching her hands, she tried not to think about it... only serving to make her think about it more.

The only real potential source of more information she anticipated right now... was a small sample of blood, a tiny vial really, which the Sannin had very gingerly extracted from Sumika's arm. Apparently the blood test might reveal more detail, but it would take a while to test and analyze. So said Tsunade, who rushed off to the hospital near immediately after relaying her findings to Sumika.

She needed to meditate on this... perhaps it was best that she spend the rest of the day doing so. Sumika could at least relax with the knowledge that Tsunade seemed relatively calm and in control of the situation.

That was... also of some comfort.

 

---

 

Evening loomed over the Konoha hospital, but Tsunade had hardly even begun the work she'd planned for the day. This was of itself not too out of the ordinary, since the Sannin had been known to procrastinate before. But this time... this time her motive was no mere idle reluctance.

Nor had she been entirely unproductive.

 

¹Konoha Hospital. Tsunade's offices occupy one of the towers seen here.

In her personal lab annex within the upper tower floors of the research ward, the Sannin hunched over a cluttered desk, leaning on her elbows and peering at the massive array of documents sprawled out before her.

Shoulders wracked with tension, she massaged at her forehead filled with countless worries and speculations. Her distracted mind once more scanned the pile in an attempt to focus on her ever-accumulating, actual assigned duties.

Glancing over at the agenda, recently delivered by one of her assistants from the hospital administration, the Sannin chewed at the tip of her thumb with absentminded consideration.

Despite Tsunade's insistence that such communiques be clearly organized and brief, the geezer-class Head of Hospital Affairs always scribbled out a veritably illegible, rambling mess of text. As if the Sannin's official position wasn't difficult enough already, this kind of annoyance appeared at near every turn as well. After repeated exposure to this particularly infuriating brand of incompetence, Tsunade made damned well certain that each of her subordinates knew how to write clear, and more importantly concise, reports. That way, at least she'd only have to deal with this idiocy from other directions.

Still, the Sannin had plentiful experience by now at parsing the important information from a spew of ramblings. Live combat did wonders for training the brain to make sense of simultaneous, chaotic field-reports. Which, in a sense, was all the hospital operated on. How other, non-combatant staff in the chain of information circulation managed it was anyone's guess. 

But from what Tsunade could interpret from the incoherent ravings, Chiyo of Sunagakure had apparently deployed a few new poison types in the southwest, but there were currently... no survivors in need of an antidote. So, it seemed the Sannin's standing order to develop new sets of cures would once again sit on the back-burner in terms priority. She mused begrudgingly, that it was at least one matter cleared from her immediate schedule. Heavens knew she had enough on her plate already, regardless of what the geezers screeched about prioritizing.

In more carefree days, she'd probably have fled it all and gone out gambling or drinking, but those days were long gone now. That kind of thing, at times like these, was no longer an option.

Releasing a long sigh, Tsunade's head drooped down off her arms and slammed onto the top of her desk.

And the day had started out so well, too...

The crashing noise attracted some attention, as Tsunade heard the door to her office crack open ...and then prudently close without a word. Nice of her staff to check in, but it must've been one of the newer ones, since her veteran staffers knew a little too well ~juuuust how frequently the Sannin's forehead met with her desk, and what that signified about her mood.

Her mood of course being the other side to her present dilemma.
Tsunade felt so distracted by her desire to address personal concerns that it took intense levels of anger just to bring her focus back to her actual job. But then she was too angry to concentrate, which led her mind to wander back to her personal concerns as she tried to calm down, which only led to higher stress and no work getting done. Then she'd need to be angrier to even think about work, and would feel more stressed trying to ignore her personal concerns... and so on and so on. Still, she'd just have to push herself through it and see where her mind came out. Otherwise truly nothing would get done, official or personal.

That self-awareness in mind and returning her attention to the offending workload, Tsunade forced herself to read the fatality list and the descriptions of the newest poison symptoms. It was simultaneously a source of both powerful motivation... and crushing apathy.

As long as medics were kept from the battlefield anyway, there was almost never a chance for shinobi casualties to survive poisons. They were only ever brought back as corpses, if at all...

Tsunade clicked her tongue and grimaced with a familiar annoyance at the all-too-frequent occurrence.

Damn! There was just too much to work on at every turn, made even worse by the fact that she'd warned of these problems in advance, only to be ignored. Repeatedly.

Casualty reports showed a clear statistic trend: poison tactics from Suna and Ame were always in the top three causes for high fatality numbers, usually following closely behind kekkei genkai shinobi contingents from Iwa or Kiri mercenaries. The Sannin had compiled such reports and made her case for reorganizing the basic military squad structure at every Jōnin conference since the war began, yet still the geezers refused to change, citing funding, and political assent

, and organizational queues.

As of now, the best she could hope for was pre-administering antidotes to known poisons before battles. Which only went so far, as Lord Hanzō's poisons were too brutal, and Suna's Lady Chiyo always had another devious recipe up her sleeves.

It was infuriating. More irritating than even the most inane of bureaucratic paperwork. They were supposed to be fighting a war, how was this not a higher priority?!

This matter alone would have been enough to rouse her fury even without... without the related suspicions Dan had gently confided to her. Tsunade felt herself unable to think rationally about it, even just considering the hypotheticals, for her temper flared fiercely at thoughts of the consequences — the blackened futures that might have been and might still be.

It might become impossible to concentrate at all if she let herself consider it.

Tsunade knew her own performance dropped considerably when distracted and troubled by particular emotional stressors, of which she had plenty enough ongoing already without thoughts of unpleasant truths, thank you very much. A distracted commander was a reckless commander, that she knew firsthand. Her recent lapses in attention had already wrought more unnecessary suffering amongst those closest to her; it wouldn't do to add onto it.

Pressing both palms to her face, the Sannin allowed a shudder to flow down her spine. She never wanted to lose family again...

Dan was so much better suited to addressing the politics and the elders anyway. His skills were more suited to... navigating these types of situations more safely. Her beloved had tact, Tsunade had to give him credit for that, for so calmly alluding to such dark possibilities amongst Konoha's elite... without outright saying it, was surely a delicate dance of words. If such things were true...

Dan... she was just so glad Dan was still here, still able to stand beside her, still alive.

She had to trust that her lover knew what he was doing. Even if it was best she didn't know for now, for her own sanity. Dan had always shared his visionary beliefs, his true goals with her unfailingly and with utmost honesty. If they trusted each other, relied on each other at every turn, then surely... surely they could forge a path through the nightmares facing their generation. Tsunade still held that much hope at least, for the memories of her brother, her parents...

The woman let out another growl of frustration before shaking her head with a darkened expression. For hospital bureaucracy, stalled reform proceedings, bad memories, and the ever-present uncertainty of her homeland's future might as well be the least of her problems today. Ah — she was getting distracted again.

"Oh, to hell with it all already!" The blonde bellowed before smashing her forehead twice more into the surface of her desk, then leaning back limply to stare at the ceiling.

Right, for instead of official work, Tsunade had a far, far more pressing enigma on her mind. Always, always on her mind, after the events of today. A distraction which wore on her focus to the point where even attempting to tackle all these other problems bordered on futility. This enigma of course being about her young, long-lost cousin Sumika.

A small and innocent part of Tsunade was simply itching with pure, gnawing curiosity, but most of her conscious consideration came from the personal, nepotistic desires in her heart.

After all, that same girl was whom she had to thank for Dan's survival. It was that same girl who... had been hurt by Tsunade's oversights and inattention.

It seemed only right to prioritize matters involving the child now, and that sentiment had occupied her mind since before she even left the Senju estate. And thus it was what had, for the most part, occupied the Sannin's time and productivity instead of the work she'd actually planned for today.

For as of now, in her own quiet and reserved way, young Sumika had earnestly pleaded for help — Tsunade's help — to learn about her herself, to find ways to keep her safe, to help her hide what she did not want seen. Those words which she left unsaid were almost more impactful than the few Sumika had managed. Tsunade had tried and failed for hours now to put it out of her mind.

It was heartrending, seeing so much effort and struggle in the child's eyes when it came to matters of trust. How haunted and determined her violet gaze seemed when their eyes met. In her younger days, Tsunade probably would have failed to notice, but after her time at war she now deeply felt and appreciated those eyes - the eyes and instincts of a survivor. That appreciation brought with it a sense of guilt that pierced through Tsunade like she was standing bare before an icy wind.

It was clear enough already that the girl had no small measure of trauma associated with her past and abilities, perhaps in particular the condition of her body.

Sumika bore such an unknowable weight... as a child just a bit younger than Nawaki had been.

"He, he would have hated being thought of as a child, even though he was." Tsunade choked on the words.

The Sannin shed no tears.
Her grief had long worn her eyes dry by now, but her heart and mind still wept whenever the chance to remember befell her...

Even if they couldn't yet, or perhaps ever, be ordinary family, Tsunade resolved herself to do whatever she could for Sumika. To make a home for her here in Konoha, should she wish it. What exactly that all meant however... was proving to be a more difficult question to answer.

Thinking as much, the woman's eyes trailed to the opened metallic box sitting on the corner of her desk, its contents among the many scrolls unfurled before her. Old documents from the time before Konoha was founded.

It had been hours now, and the Sannin feared she was still somehow in a light state of shock.

At first Tsunade had merely intended to conduct a routine full-health assessment, a normal step to facilitate Sumika's integration here, but the situation rapidly warped into something far more complicated. So much so that she'd even had to delay assessing the child's more obvious and functional capabilities.

Later, later.... there would be time. She had to make time. In this regard, Sumika's own feelings definitely had to come first.

As happened on occasion recently, Tsunade felt her sense of loyalty and belief in Konoha smoulder in lingering conflict with what she felt was truly best for her family and clan. Her family... which had always given their all, always sacrificed everything for the village. Her own Will of Fire flared in response to conflicting desires the Sannin knew not how to articulate, only that she would have to trust in the decisions she made and the path she trod.

Rubbing her tired eyes with a sigh, Tsunade launched herself up, jostling her desk in the process, before lumbering a few steps to the right and practically throwing herself onto the green sofa she kept there for just such a purpose. Lounging face-up, she covered her eyes with a forearm and pondered with the fullest attention she could muster. She justified her guilty indulgence with the thought that her official work would never finish if she did not first address this newest set of inscrutable discoveries.

Sumika...

Her body held... idiosyncrasies.
Tsunade hesitated to call them abnormalities, because she knew not enough about those in possession of the legendary Mokuton kekkei genkai to say what was 'normal' for that. 

Her expectations clashed with the realities she actually observed.

Complications of malnutrition, stunted growth, lingering weaknesses, or atrophy of bodily functions. Insidious possibilities that require expert attention and dedication to properly detect and treat. That was what someone of Tsunade's skill and experience expected to find in a complete, full-health checkup.

This was especially confusing when considering how all appeared well within the girl at first glance, and then still even with a cursory examination. But if one managed to ignore all that and look even more closely...

Perhaps the bulk of the initial confusion arose in part due to the girl's heritage, for she had inherited well the gifts of both Uzumaki and Senju. Her red-haired and pale appearance alone suggested the sheer vastness of chakra reserves signature among the Uzumaki Clan. But the prodigious intensity with which Sumika seemingly circulated and riled chakra around in her young body was hallmark of the Senju.

Tsunade had noted as much before, during the limited checks done at the Yamakuni Sanctuary.

Anyone with requisite skill in medical sensing would be quick to conclude that someone with such vigorous and plentiful chakra could not possibly be in ill health. As such, it took a certain level of precision in examination to pierce that overwhelming surface-level impression.

Armed with knowledge and experience of this, Tsunade distrusted her initial findings and knew more thorough investigation would be necessary. It stood to reason that more subtle and insidious damage could well be hidden by the girl's more obvious qualities.

However... even after two, three, four progressively more thorough attempts, nothing of note revealed itself. All Tsunade was getting was vague confirmations of a seemingly healthy, preadolescent girl between the ages of nine and twelve, near the onset of puberty.
The results rather substantially belied Sumika's previously somewhat gaunt and lanky condition, from when they'd first met. And that appeared seriously unusual to someone of Tsunade's skill.

The curiosity and confusion was maddening, if mostly out of concern for Sumika herself.

She tried not to show it on her face, but Tsunade's suspicions had grown more perturbed the longer Sumika's checkup dragged on. Was she doing something wrong? Was the child's physique and constitution simply too anomalous? Did Grandmother know something?

But no, eventually the Sannin's skills triumphed and more precise information about Sumika's body had flooded her perception.

Yet much to her surprise, this breakthrough only opened the doors to countless more questions and theories.

Tsunade reckoned it would take someone of substantial skill to notice, certainly only those capable of using the full Shōsen Jutsu²Mystical Palm Technique, but careful examination revealed a certain... opacity to Sumika.

Patches of major organ structures, segments of the girl's chakra network... they seemed to be constantly reacting with other parts of her body in some nebulous process, not statically, but in a sort of dynamic equilibrium. From the outside looking in as Tsunade was, the effect continued producing a sort of opaque shimmer over the girl's internals. And once the Sannin knew what to look for, it was impossible to avoid noticing it. The effect concentrated especially around the arms and upper torso, in particular the lungs and heart, though with ties to other vital areas.

Yet whenever Tsunade tried to peer closer, tried to ascertain more clearly, the feedback from her jutsu would instead become more nonsensical, flooded by fuzziness and the presence of an overwhelming concentration of dense, fluctuating chakra.

Was it the girl's chakra itself that formed layers within and around her body? The major endpoints matched vaguely with the patterns and pathways of a normal chakra network, but the flow of energy held an ever-shifting and seemingly random geometry.

So intense was the feeling that, though reluctant to even speculate, Tsunade had to wonder again if these segments of organs were somehow comprised of pure chakra itself. Even if so, it seemed impossible to verify. Just looking at and trying to understand the process induced a headache. All she could tell was that its nature was composed either partly or entirely of Mokuton.

The traces of which she detected all around Sumika's body bore striking resemblance to only one case she'd seen before in her entire wealth of experience. That of... that Uzumaki woman, Fuzō, from the Yamakuni branch family. A woman who exhibited perhaps one of the most bizarre physiological and recuperative anomalies Tsunade had seen in a long time.

In the past, Tsunade had ascribed this 'Fuzō Phenomenon' as being the result of a known heritage ability associated Uzumaki lineage, but...

The implications of the discovery now, tied to the girl's Mokuton kekkei genkai, would suggest that Sumika already possessed a previously underestimated aptitude for recovery and healing techniques. Enough to resist the most dire effects of starvation, disease, or worse. To think, a medic-nin with something akin to Grandfather's physiology.

That concept was itself the inspiration behind Tsunade's own research into regenerative techniques and seals, her still-hypothetical Sōzō Saisei³Creation Rebirth, the so-called "pinnacle of medical ninjutsu". If the girl wished for it, Tsunade would gladly take her on as a student, a potential prodigy in the field...

No, wait... such thoughts had to come second. But if... if this became a more primary consideration, then she would have to immediately raise the matter with Grandmother. This kind of power, or potential, would be even more coveted should it become known.

"Who am I kidding?" the woman shook her head, muttering in a daze, "I hardly know where to begin with all this. The best I can do is relay my findings for now."

Grandmother Mito would readily admit, albeit in her hallmark smug and roundabout manner, that she had no particular excellence in medical ninjutsu. Though the old woman knew her late husband well, there was little else Mito could provide in terms of the secrets of his physiology than the sealed documents the man himself had kept.

The same documents now spread over Tsunade's desk. Most of which largely contained incidental or nonspecific data. How long it took for heavy wounds to fully heal, the same for scar tissue to disappear, training regimens and jutsu research... things like that, which required study and intuition to infer any useful meaning. Others contained secondary references, like family trees and records of inheritance... which might be useful for broader context?

So really it was doubtful that there would be any more sources of insight into Sumika's case. Well, besides perhaps the small blood sample currently hidden within Tsunade's refrigerated laboratory vault.

However...
It was often said that Senju Hashirama was the only Kage who never visited a personal physician, never needed healing, never bore a scar. His chakra, Senjutsu⁴Sage techniques, utilizing natural energy as a component in one's chakra in exchange for numerous benefits... and risks, and Mokuton genetic healing factor combined were all said to outshine even the greatest of medical techniques. A perfect regeneration, for all practical purposes.

This being one of the many reasons why his secrets and lineage were so greatly coveted... and so well-kept. Though the heretofore impossibility of his abilities ever being inherited, replicated, or repeated likely in and of itself played a key role in dissuading continued interest.

Now though, Tsunade was beginning to suspect there might have been more reasons behind Grandfather's avoidance of doctors than initially believed. In all likelihood, those reasons might never be uncovered.

At that, a thought occurred to Tsunade: Among those who manifest Mokuton, did the same rules or standards even apply? If so little was known, who was to say there would be any similarity between Sumika and Grandfather Hashirama?

The idea alone was exhilarating. Another shudder traveled slowly down the length of Tsunade's spine, and remained there as a lingering tingle — the dual sensations of trepidation and anticipation. Perhaps it was better not to know, even in the face of such astounding possibility? Was it even remotely ethical to ask that of Sumika, to record or relay any of this, or even to deny the child further investigation of herself when she already harbored such anxieties?

The Sannin dared not let slip to Sumika that she felt real, nervous fear.
Fear that was a product of ignorance — ignorance she was determined to eradicate, lest it cloud her judgement. How could she even begin to explain her findings to the girl, that poor child, when Tsunade herself understood nothing? A young girl like Sumika surely didn't need any more uncertainty, and Tsunade was determined not to be another source of it based on premature inklings. Not until she had a better baseline to work with at least.

Tsunade could kill without hesitation on the battlefield, but here she found herself plagued by indecision. Did these questions even have acceptable answers? Maybe only time could tell what was best for Sumika... or perhaps only the girl herself could decide as she grew and matured.

Some things for certain must be concealed, and that was what Sumika had trusted Tsunade with, too... a trust that at this point could not be taken lightly.

Thus was the aspect of this whole situation that Mito could handle, the intrigue and the secrets and the plotting. Tsunade trusted her grandmother would handle it best, but the Sannin was already mulling over some suggestions in advance.

"A shinobi's body holds many secrets, some not meant to be revealed even to allies...-"

 

---

 

"A shinobi's body holds many secrets, some not meant to be revealed even to allies. It wouldn't be unprecedented to ban general treatment at the hospital." her granddaughter posited, eyes narrowed and expression serious, "It's not that I don't trust the staff there, but their ability to account for paperwork is... well let's just say that I don't want any of her real medical information documented."

The time had long entered the dead of night, yet Tsunade returned to Mito's chambers only half an hour ago. She'd clearly been swamped in work, and her slightly intense, wired complexion implied that the woman had been researching something very interesting.

The four-page summary report delivered upon arrival corroborated that supposition.

"Thank you Tsuna, this... this is definitely something I needed to know, to prepare for..." Mito replied musingly, rereading the report one last time before handing it back to Tsunade.

"No... no questions in particular?" came a slightly confused quip.

Mito ignored the unintentional gibe that her granddaughter's tone implied, partly in sympathy for Tsunade's strenuous efforts, and merely confirmed, "No, this is enough for now."

"Ahhh, alright then. I'll let you know if anything new turns up with the blood analysis."

Her granddaughter glanced down and immediately lifted the candle-holder she'd brought along, proceeding to burn the document in its flame. Whilst the pages curled and charred, the young blonde adopted an adorably worried expression, adding,

"This won't be a major problem right? She... she hasn't chosen which she path she wants to take yet..."

Well, Mito foresaw several potential problems that 'this' could entail, but her eager granddaughter was probably just referring to the simplest,

"No, I highly doubt it. As you said, Tsuna, restriction from hospital examination is not unprecedented. The excuse we use shall merely change depending on which story our Sumika-chan chooses to tell."

Mito paused, eyeing the still-present worry glinting in the corners of Tsunade's measured stare, "And to be certain she receives the best care, we shall have it so you may operate as her primary physician. Though... incidentally, that itself may offer convenient excuse for you to provide the girl some discreet instruction and training opportunities, eh?"
At that line of thought, Mito paused and made a mental note to prepare for that possibility,
"...In a case where you are otherwise occupied, I can have some of my people prepared as contingencies." Both of their gazes flickered towards the shadowy ANBU kneeling in silence far off to one side. "You know them and their capabilities well, so... even in the future..."

As the last of the burning pages turned to ash, Tsunade extinguished her candleflame with a pinch, leaving the room illuminated by moonlight alone.

In the silence that followed, her granddaughter seemed to ponder, before slowly nodding in assent.

"Thank you for your hard work." she added into the darkness for the ANBU to hear, "In this, please continue to work with me, with us, in the future."

Mito closed her barely-open eyes and inclined her head towards the young woman.

"Now then Tsuna, this was one major landmine avoided. I am...-" Mito hesitated, her voice softening unintentionally, "I am glad you are getting along with your cousin well. Now I imagine you know what must be done next? After all, this is only one of three things I need..."

"Yes, I'll talk with her as soon as possible. If I understand it right, I think after that... she would know enough to make her decision." her granddaughter gave a rueful shake of her head, "With this... I'm not even sure what to hope for..."

The way she trailed off and the doubt in her eyes was telling. Mito felt a new pang of regret pierce the clarity of her thoughts, that her last descendant would have to bear such heavy burdens while still so young. Though now, hopefully not alone... with the people she needed for support. She could hope they would all be there for each other, all of them who Mito would leave behind.

Even if it was hard to feel it, Mito offered words of reassurance.

"Then Tsuna dear, just hope for each other's happiness. I'll do my best with the time I have left..."

...

It was only after her granddaughter had excused herself and headed back to get some rest that Mito's tone darkened to a pitch black, a few more uttered words finishing the rest of her thought,

"...And with that time I have left... lay foundations to support those choices you will face, when you are forced to confront your doubt. As Clan Head of the Senju, as a shinobi of Konoha, as a disciple of your Sarutobi-sensei..."

The Vulpine Lady could see the dangers smouldering now, though years may pass before they ignite. She planned. she anticipated. The more options ready by then, all the better for her successors.

As Mito folded her limp, weakened fingers, pain slithered and pulsated across the seal formulae covering the old woman's body. Though she never looked in a mirror anymore, she could almost feel more of her maroon hairs greying.
Her chakra, still over-exerted from the days prior, warned her of an intrusion into this sanctum, the innermost sensory barrier around her room.

An intrusion she graciously allowed without activating her seal's retaliatory measures.

Within moments, her ANBU's posture stiffened and an aura of ghostly blue light surrounded their frame before fading away.

Tsuna was not the last visitor Mito would be receiving tonight.