This isn't beta'd, so if you see any mistakes, just tell me and I'll fix it.

Thanks!

▪▪▪

Tsunade Senju liked to think of herself as a force of nature. She was strong, smart, and with just a simple Genjutsu, she was forever beautiful, too.

However, she felt like a lot less than she usually did right now.

Why?

Because while she was fierce and stern, she wasn't nearly as utterly savage as Tsume Inuzuka was. 

Usually, Tsume was tall, upright, and liked to throw her weight around. She didn't care about her physical appearance, letting her hair rise in stiff, untamed spikes, and often wore wrinkled, bloodstained clothing. The only things she seemed to care about were her dog, her clan, and her weapons, in that order.

Tsume's personality reflected in her home. It was an old house, the walls gouged by nicks and dents and scratches, the myriad of kids who had grown up in that house leaving their mark. There was almost nothing delicate and breakable in view; the exceptions being the pictures hanging along the walls and the scroll taking up most of this room's wall. Careful calligraphy listed out the Inuzuka values: Pack, Loyalty, and Fighting Spirit the three written in the biggest strokes.

Even the chair Tsunade sat in was well-used. There were several rents in the leather, all of them stitched back together with bright red thread. The armchair didn't match any of the furniture, either. There was a grey-ish couch, a sturdy-looking rocking chair tucked in a corner, and a shelf full of books that looked almost new.

Tsume sat on the crouch, her arms wrapped around Hiroto, fingers carding through his shorter black hair. When Tsunade had knocked on the door of her compound a few minutes ago, the woman had been somewhat calm, even grinning as she welcomed her Hokage into her house.

Then Tsunade had forced Hiroto to unmask, calling again on her powers of Hokage (it seemed this was going to be a pattern with this particular individual).

And now... 

Now, the clan head's face was downright feral as she clutched the young man, the ROOT agent to her chest and growled, her throat rumbling like thunder, or an earthquake. Her dog did the same, angry if not angrier than his human counterpart, all fangs and ruffled fur.

Now they were absolutely furious.

"I take it you knew him?" Tsunade asked, trying not to let her awkwardness at interrupting their reunion bleed into her voice. She pulled herself up a little straighter when Tsume's black eyes glared a hole into her.

"My brother's first son," she growled. "My nephew. He and Hana were practically siblings until he disappeared and all we ever found..."

All they ever found was the body of his ninken, still a puppy but burnt, charred and dead.

"He was the only one I found," Tsunade admitted. "I hope there are more, but I don't know. His tongue is sealed, so I can't learn anything from that."

"His name," Tsume snarled. "You know the name of the one who did this?"

Tsunade inclined her head briefly. "I have my suspicions, but no concrete evidence as of yet."

The Inuzuka's face twisted in an undiscernible emotion. It seemed she had reached the limits of human wrath and had transcended into godly realms of fury. She was so mad she'd come back around again and was calm.

"I want their head," Tsume told Tsunade in a bland monotone. It was scarier than her previous anger, cold and patient like a crocodile rather than a rabid dog. "They will die for this."

The Senju waited for a heartbeat, then nodded again. "That was always the plan. Will you help me bring him down?"

Tsume eyed her, fingers still carding through the young man's hair. His face was still blank, but he didn't make any move to try and get away. That was something... right?

"Help you?" Tsume scoffed. "Lord Hokage, you must've known that by bringing this to my attention that the Inuzukas would never let it stand. You don't have to worry about seeking our aide; rather, you should worry about having too much of it."

"Great!" Tsunade withdrew a sealing scroll from her bag, set it down, and released a towering stack of files and papers. "Mind going through all of these to locate suspicious orders and signatures from the wrong people in the wrong places?"

 There was only a second of silence where Tsume wrestled down every shinobi's instinctive fear of paperwork before answering.

"It would be my pleasure."

▪▪▪

Toph flopped down on the tatami matts that lined the training room floor. Her bruised and beaten body screamed at her, but she shut her eyes and ignored it.

She, Itachi, and Kisame had gotten back to Amegakure yesterday, after finishing up the rest of the mission. It had gone surprisingly uneventfully, the only things to note her new connections to one of the Wind Daimyo's sons, and the new name written in her happy things book.

Shikamaru.

She rolled over onto her back and covered her face with an arm. A smile crept unbidden to her face as she remembered the thrill of the kiss.

The kiss.

Her very first.

He really was very sweet and smart, too. Toph could count on her fingers the amount of teenage men she knew who were like that and her type, and they were both back in her original world. She remembered that day when he walked her home and had to stop herself from writhing on the ground again. 

Not out of second hand embarrassment, of course. She was too awesome to have to worry about messing up.

It was just the way he had talked to her, all flattering while not being obvious about it, and how he knew exactly how to compliment her.

And yet...

Yet...

Toph slowly clambered back to her feet. She picked up the sword from where it lay besides her and sank back into position. For a heartbeat it felt warm and tacky beneath her fingers, but Toph pushed back the wave of revulsion and horror that tagged along and just breathed.

The nightmares had driven her from her bed, after all. 

She wouldn't let them interrupt her impromptu training session as well.

Heavy footfalls hit down the halls. Toph pulled herself upright and quietly listened, trying to make out who it was through her exhausted state. She felt bulk, so not Itachi or, Kami forbid, Tobi. 

She held back her shudder of revulsion and waited until the person was gone before carrying on in her training. It was probably just Kisame. It was no big deal, even if he caught her, but memories of a time long gone still held onto her actions with icy claws.

(Her parents had never liked it when she left her room after dark.)

Toph shrugged the memories off and fell to it. 

Maybe if she passed out from exhaustion, the dreams wouldn't come.

▪▪▪

"- and then we ate dango and kissed under the stars," Anko finished recounting her tale. Choza and Inoichi were watching her with fond smiles, but Shikaku had his back turned to her, making tea. He was finishing up, pouring the tea into different mismatched cups.

"Sounds like a success to me," Choza remarked. "Where did you guys go for the teriyaki?"

"One of your establishments," Anko preened. "My boyfriend has the best taste. Oh, and did I mention the flowers?"

"Flowers?" Inoichi asked.

"He kept them all!" Anko crowed. "Every single boquet! They're all in his kitchen and I love him so much-" 

"Anko," Shikaku took her by her arms, cutting her off. She looked up at him, confused as he continued. "Why did you start dating him?"

The kunoichi paused, face burning, and looked down. "To ditch my tails..."

"Any other reason?" 

"...No..." she admitted.

It was just them in the flower shop, Inoichi and Choza avoiding their third friend's glare as they passed out the tea. Her own cup rested on the wood, still hot but cooling rapidly. She watched the steam rising out of the green china and tried to imagine what her life would be like without Iruka.

He was kind and sweet. He listened when she talked to him, and asked questions instead of just tuning her out like most other people did. He liked sweets, but never ate them because it was 'unmanly'. He loved all of his students, but Naruto especially; he could go on and on about the blond brat for literal hours.

He watched her, always.

He wasn't in this to get something from her, not like all the other men she'd ever 'dated.'

"You're not really dating," Shikaku told her gently. "We're trying to figure important things out, but we can't if you're distracted. You need to remember just what we're doing and get your feelings in check."

"Is that true?"

There were no words to describe the sinking, freezing pit that opened in her stomach at the familiar voice. in front of her, Shikaku froze, his eyes locking onto something in front of her.

Someone.

Anko turned slowly, seeing first his blue sandals, then his military-grade black pants, the right thigh wrapped in both bandages and the straps of a kunai pouch. Then it was his white shirt, broad, tanned shoulders, and the face she had come to love more than anyone else she'd ever known.

Iruka.

Iruka.

Anko felt horror rising in her. She shrugged off Shikaku's grasp and reached out. "No. wait!"

"This whole thing was a lie?" His eyes were glistening, searching her very soul. "You were just using me?"

"No-!" Anko started to protest, to vehemently deny it all, but his accusing stare cut the words from her mouth quicker and more painfully than a punch to the gut. "Well... yes, kind of."

"I see," Iruka ducked his head, turning away from her and back out the door, voice raw. Anko watched his back go for a moment, saw him leaving, and then a tide of fear rose up inside of her and she was running after him before her mind could even think of logical reasons why this was for the better. 

She bumped hard into someone on the way out; her eyes caught a flash of blonde and the smell of alcohol, but Anko didn't care, didn't look back. Her eyes were on the white shirt and brown ponytail, and she reached again, even though it felt like she was in a dream where no matter how hard she tried her fingers would never touch him. She felt like she was moving through molasses, oh, so slowly, and he was just moving.

Just leaving her.

"Wait!" She all but screamed.

The busy street went still. The figure she was chasing stopped, but didn't turn.

"It was all a lie," she managed, the words tearing from her throat. Everything was crashing down around her like a house of cards, nothing left standing at the end. "I lied to you. I was only using you to hide what I was doing from others. I never intended for it to go this far, but it did and I'm sorry. You just made it so easy to keep going, to get deeper and deeper and now-

"I love you," she whispered. Her breath heaved and then she was shouting. "I really love you! I love everything about you! I love how you love the kids like they're your own, how you mumble aloud when you're thinking, how you're always so honest-"

Her words trailed off into nothing. 

"You lied to me," he repeated. Anko's eyes were burning, now, her cheeks wet.

Iruka finally turned, and with a tone of finality, he replied, his whole face blank.

"This whole time it wasn't real. It was a diversion, to hide your true intents and purposes from others. The one thing I wanted was someone who'd be honest with me and our relationship wasn't." 

"Iruka-" Anko tried, grasping at straws now.

"NO!" He shouted. "You've said your piece, now just let me say mine."

She was silent. 

Burning tears coursed down her cheeks as her memories flickered underneath her eyelids.

Several vases filled with flowers.

Throwing popcorn at each other in the darkened movie theater.

Sprinting, running together.

"Here."

His soft lips as he gave in, letting her kiss him after weeks of waiting.

"I didn't want this to happen," he told her, voice quieter. He walked towards her, stopping just outside of her reach. "That was why I tried to reject you at first. I knew your reputation, knew that you didn't take love seriously like I did, but some part of me wanted you to.

"You played me, Anko."

"I know," she sobbed, biting her lip, trying to keep it all in. She scrubbed furiously at her eyes, but they wouldn't stop their infernal leaking.

There was a moment of silence, and then his hand entered her vision. He held something out to her, something small and red and triangular.

The earring.

"Goodbye," he told her, and his tones were final.

This is the end.

Iruka left.

She didn't know her legs had given way under her until she hit the ground, still staring after his retreating back. her fingers clawed helplessly at the ground, and for a second she stayed there, vision blurred by tears, a single red earring in her hand.

And then she fled.

It was over.

▪▪▪

That night, Iruka's neighbors woke up the the sounds of shattering glass.