Senju Tobirama remembers the first time he laid eyes on a tailed beast.

Konoha was still new then—barely a few months old—when they received intel of external threats, and stumbled across ancient temples... temples that housed the bijū.

The discovery caused a worldwide uproar. Since Konoha found them first, the beasts were technically deemed Konoha's property.

At first, Hashirama hesitated. Rightfully so—the tailed beasts were legendary creatures. But under pressure from the daimyōs and mounting threats, the First Hokage made a decision.

A mistake.

He captured the bijū. And then he traded them-one after another-to other nations to maintain the so-called balance of power.

Sometimes he used one bijū as bait for another. Sometimes they were "peace offerings."

The beasts raged and roared in their wooden prisons, but even their immense chakra was suppressed by Hashirama's Wood Release. No one else could subdue them that way.
No one else ever would.

"I will make you regret this, human!"

The nine burning orange tails had lashed against their prison as the beast's roar shook the valley. Even from kilometers away, Tobirama had felt the heat.

When other villages failed to tame the bijū, they turned to more brutal methods-dōjutsu control, sealing techniques, human sacrifices. That's when she arrived.

Uzumaki Mito.

A princess from Uzushiogakure.
A master of fūinjutsu.
And the first person Tobirama had ever seen command a seal without fear.

Under her guidance, he had expanded his own understanding of sealing arts-many of his future jutsu were rooted in what she taught him.

Years later, after Madara unleashed the Nine-Tails using his Sharingan, Mito sealed it into herself, becoming the first jinchūriki. With that, the rest of the world followed.

They turned children into cages.

Now, standing in a shabby apartment beside a sleeping boy, Tobirama stares down at the seal on Naruto's stomach.
He feels that same heat. That same rage. That same sorrow.

Another child turned into a cage.

That old shame settled deep in his chest.
We called it peace. We called it balance. But it was only chains. Always chains.

Was this what we fought so hard to protect?

Why is the last of the Uzumaki clan sleeping in a moldy, paper-thin apartment?
Why is the heir to one of the greatest legacies of chakra sleeping alone and forgotten?

He frowns—not just at the village, or at Hiruzen, but at himself.

There is nothing he can do.
Not like this.
Not in this form.

But just as he turned to leave, something in the seal pulsed.

The air shifted. Denser. Watchful.

Not the boy’s chakra.
Something deeper.

The fox.

It moved behind the spiral like a coiled flame, slow and immense. A low heat brushing against the edges of chakra perception.

Tobirama paused. Ghost or not, the Nine-Tails had sensed him.

Not awakened.

Just watching.

The same way it had watched as it broke free of its last prison. The same way it had watched Hashirama bind it in wood.

And now, still caged, still burning, it watched him too.

Tobirama stilled.

For a moment, the temperature didn’t change—but he felt cold.

Not from fear.
From recognition.

The beast remembered him. Even now. Even like this.

It stirred again. Chakra too big for the seal, pressure building like a wave.

A presence. Ancient. Suffocating.

A hatred too old for words.

Tobirama’s jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists. Then, before he could stop it, a shiver ran down his spine.

He hadn’t felt that in years. Not even in death.

Tobirama left the apartment in silence.

But the weight followed him.

::

"How's Naruto?" Sakura asked before even greeting Tobirama, still in her pajamas with bed hair sticking up in every direction.

"Alive," he answered dryly.

Sakura gave him a look.

Tobirama relented. "Warm. Fed. In no immediate danger."

"Did he eat real food or just instant ramen again?" she asked, eyebrows raised-already suspicious.

"There were onigiri wrappers present. Likely stolen, but technically still food."

Sakura made a noise somewhere between relief and irritation before plopping herself at the low table. She had her crayons out again-half of them already broken in half from aggressive coloring sessions. She grabbed a green one and started scribbling circles. "Okay good. 'Cause I was ready to march over to jiji-Hokage's office and make a protest sign."

Tobirama watched her, distracted.

She looked up at him while still holding her crayon. "Tobi?" He stayed quiet for a moment.

"You're doing that thing again," She hummed.

"What thing?"

"That weird thinking face thing. The one you do when you're planning to blow something up or murder a teacher."

Tobirama blinked. "That is... oddly specific."

Sakura deadpanned at him. It's because I've seen it before, duh.

"Spill."

He considered telling her. The seal. The fox. The dangers of being a weapon before you're even a child. The dangers of befriending Naruto.

But she was five.

And still believed Mr. Bear could defeat any shinobi. And knowing her, instead of leaving the boy, she might really march herself to the Hokage's tower and start a mass protest. Maybe even an impeachment, or a coup d'état while she's at it.

So instead, he said, "You're starting lessons on fūinjutsu today. Get ready."

::

Winter raged on, and Tobirama's lessons suddenly intensified.

Out of nowhere, he decided it was time for her to begin learning fūinjutsu. But Sakura didn't mind—she loved learning. All she knew was that she was one step closer to being like Tobi.
And that excited her.

What she did mind, though, was her lack of dexterity. Her circles were squiggly. Her lines were crooked.
Tobirama reassured her that it would improve with time.
He said the seal would still function albeit weaker and sometimes oddly.

She still pouted whenever he frowned at her work.

"You're mean," she grumbled when he refused to accept her wonky tag.

"You'll thank me when your seal doesn't explode in your face," he deadpanned.

Together, they studied the meaning of symbols, the history behind each spiral and stroke.

Sakura loved it.
How lines and spirals could trap chakra. How a single brushstroke could hold back a flood or explode. These were secrets that few others knew — and now they were hers to learn.

She learned of a clan whose sealing arts were once unrivaled.

A clan that had nearly gone extinct.

A clan whose supposedly last living descendant, Tobirama hinted, might still live in Konoha.

"Who is it?! Do I know them? Are they a cool sealing master?!"

Tobirama didn’t answer at first.

She was only five.
But already, her lines were getting sharper. Her instinct faster. Her questions better. The child before him was growing and improving in leaps faster than any other children he has taught.

Maybe it didn’t matter who the last master was.
Maybe the next one was sitting right in front of him, clutching a broken crayon, pouting over symmetry and pestering him.

And maybe—just maybe—that could be part of his legacy too.

"Maybe," Tobirama replied, ever the cryptic ghost.

Sakura pouted the entire day.

"You're being extra mean today."

"You'll find out one day."

He could already imagine it—her older, steadier hands sketching ink across parchment with absolute precision. A grown Sakura, wrapped in a long, high-collared cloak the same deep blue he used to wear, scrolls tucked beneath one arm, chakra paper at her hip and ink-stained fingers.

The old shinobis would frown and scoff. Too young. Too pink. Civilian-born. That’s what they’d say.

But they’d eat their words when she shut down their techniques mid-fight, sealed off their chakra with a flick of her brush, and sealed entire beasts with nothing but a tag and a whisper.

He could see her standing where others once had—above clan banners and titles, not because of bloodline, but because she earned it.

Seal Master Haruno Sakura.

A strange pride settled in his chest.

He knew that would only be one of the many monikers she would earn.

“One day,” he said again, quieter this time.

::

Water dripped somewhere in the distance.

The damp chill of the underground seeped through the concrete walls and into Shisui's bones. The air smelled faintly of old iron and wet stone-of a place where sunlight had never touched.

He had thought he had more time.

After Itachi's quiet warning a week ago, Shisui had hoped he could stall, feed them slow progress reports, buy enough days or weeks to figure a way out. But deep down, he had known this day would come.

Now, kneeling alone in the dim hall before a flickering lantern-his plain white mask on his face, he faced Shimura Danzo.

The old man leaned on his cane, half-shrouded in shadow. His one good eye regarded Shisui with a flat, predatory gaze.

"Your reports on the Haruno girl have been... insufficient," Danzo said, voice low and dry as paper.

A droplet fell from a rusted pipe above. It hit the floor with a sharp echo that made Shisui's jaw tighten.

"She is young," he answered evenly. "Progress takes time."

"Time is not a luxury we have. You've had two months."
Shisui kept his face impassive, but his heart pounded.

"Her potential must be shaped before others interfere. Before your cousin interferes."

Itachi. They knew Itachi was watching.

A flicker of red flicked through Shisui's Sharingan—reflexive, bitter.

"You have a duty to this village, Shisui," Danzo's tone grew colder. "And a duty to your clan. Or have you already forgotten who fought to secure the Military Police Building your clan so desired?"

Shisui's breath caught for a moment.

"It was I who spoke for you in the council. I who convinced the Hokage to grant the expansion. I who shielded your people from harsher decrees."

Danzo stepped forward. Only the sound of his wooden cane echoed through the empty hall.
"Without my intervention, your clan would still be begging for scraps of authority. Do not forget who made their rise possible."

Shisui swallowed hard, throat dry.

"You will deliver results. Soon. Or others will be sent to replace you."

A beat of silence. Shisui's fingers curled against the stone floor.

"And remember... your clan's future depends on your loyalty. Do not disappoint us."
The meeting ended without dismissal. Shisui rose stiffly, the cold air biting through his uniform.

He left through the winding corridors alone, each step heavy with dread.

The air outside felt colder now.

Shisui moved through Konoha's quiet streets, steps light out of habit — but his mind heavier than ever.

He had brushed off Itachi's warning. Had told himself this was still for the village. That Danzo's methods were harsh, yes — but necessary.

But today, hearing the words so plainly spoken — shape her, deliver results, or replace you — something twisted in his gut.

He shook his head. No. There was no time for doubt.

The girl was bright — far too bright. If he pulled away now, ROOT would simply send someone else. Someone colder. Someone who wouldn't hesitate.

Better she stayed with him. Better he kept a hand on this.

If a result is what Danzo wants, Shisui will provide it to him.

And yet, as he continued leaping across the streets of Konoha, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Itachi's echoed in the back of his mind:

What kind of person would help us for nothing?

::

Later that afternoon when Sakura was done with her fūinjutsu lessons and she was just admiring the layers of fresh snows on her yard, a swirl of wind and chakra kicked up snow in the yard.

Uchiha Shisui landed lightly with a box in hand and a cheerful, "Oi! I come bearing snacks!"

Sakura appeared at the doorway, bright green eyes gleamed in excitement. "Shisui-nii! Is that Dango?"

Tobirama, not far from her side, frowned. There was something odd about the Uchiha today.

"Two sticks. If anyone asks, you didn't get this from me," Shisui said, tossing the box.

Sakura beamed and caught it like a pro.

He grinned, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Want to go for a walk? It's been two weeks since we've seen each other, and I heard the market has pink mochi again. I'll even buy it for you."

Sakura squinted. "That sounds suspiciously like bribery."

"It absolutely is."

She giggled then ran in the house to tell her mom and put on the fluffiest coat she had.

Up on the roof, Tobirama didn't move. He didn't make a sound. But Sakura glanced up at him anyway as she leaves and gave a little cheeky wave.

His eyes narrowed.

- To be continued -
Hello everyone, finally an update in 2025! Will this be the only update in 2025 before I disappear again? Who knows! 🤣 Let's hope not!

After the previous chapter, I had a hugeeeeeee writer's block on how to proceed from there. I think this is the fourth draft of this chapter and it's my favourite one yet!

So we got Mito and Tobi crumbs if you squinted lol, so maybe that's the source of the rumors from chapter 1 🤣

Sakura's on her way to be the biggest baddie ever with Tobirama as her number 1 supporter. So ofc she has to use his colour in that imagination☺️

Thoughts on the chapter?