Great Lakes & Expectations chapter 10

Traveling with Shizune and Tsunade was both excruciatingly painful and boring. She walked for hours and hours behind them in the hot sun. Tsunade inevitably vanished the instant they got to a town large enough to have a bar, and she and Shizune did errands- delivering suspect packages, providing medical care (Regina was like, really good at holding Shizune’s bag), and fabricating tracks so that debt collectors didn’t find Tsunade. At night, Shizune would take Regina to a ryokan, one of many that were initially beautiful and scenic and became a blur of bland white paper doors and unremarkable onsen. 

Sometimes Shizune would leave Regina at the ryokan earlier in the day, probably for more exciting crimes, for which she couldn’t pull the assassin equivalent of ‘bring your daughter to work day’. Regina wasn’t sure that she wanted to be more in on the crime aspect of their lives, but she was interested in being included in general. After wrestling with that dilemma, she concluded that the human instinct to be part of a herd was remarkably stupid. 

She still kind of wanted more involvement than letting Shizune lift her over her head to make tracks leading in misleading directions. She was basically a human foot stamp, which was… less than flattering.

With nothing else to do, Regina studied. She walked and she studied and she held things for Shizune and was obediently still as Shizune pressed her feet into the ground just so to make it look like they were running into the heart of Tea Country. 

Luckily, her Japanese level was responding. And it was getting easier to keep up with Tsunade and Shizune on their power walks from justice. 

She knew they were only doing that for her benefit, because Shizune fucking *flew* her back to their tracks later, but it was still gratifying to see her self-improvement. 

It was yet another hot and disgustingly humid day in… The Land of Hot Water? The names were all so literal. 

Regina lay on the tatami facefirst, fully sick of even the idea of studying. The heat had taken her will to live. 

She missed frigid Michigan, shitty as that was. At least she didn’t constantly feel like she was dying on the floor. 

This ryokan’s ojiisan was trimming the bushes in the garden, which was definitely beautiful but looked remarkably like the last million gardens with perfectly trimmed trees and moss-covered ground. 

Shizune had dropped her off, given her a hug, and did that magic disappearing thing again. That was… Regina squinted at the sun, realized it was bright and she didn’t know shit about telling time by where the sun was, and immediately gave up. 

The ojiisan clipped at the bushes. The cicadas screamed. The sun felt like it was beginning to burn her skin.

Regina rolled over and out of the sunshine, which was much cooler. Maybe she could take a bath, get dressed, and go find Tsunade. It was too hot to study. 

The onsen was empty this time of day, which made it the best time. Regina scrubbed up and washed her hair, before tying it up on the top of her head and wandering out to the actual hot spring. 

It was odd to remember that being naked in public used to feel weird. The baths at these places weren’t mixed (but oddly, some did have a sign that had Murder Dad’s face on them with a NO line over them), and Regina had no idea how many people had seen her boobs by now. No one cared. It was hard to put all that effort into caring when no one else saw a problem and no one ever touched you or stared at you. It was just about being in hot water or occasionally a sauna room, talking shit. 

She had finally reached the point where Shizune could provide her with gossip and they could talk smack about people Regina had never met. Sure, it was limited. But at least she had something resembling a real friendship with someone her age.

There was no one to talk shit with, so she only spent about half an hour between the onsen and the sauna room. She dressed in the fancy version of what Tsunade had apparently deemed to be her uniform- a fashionable-looking asymmetrical blue top in what was definitely silk, and high-waisted, wide-legged silk pants. The others were cotton or something, which were definitely better for their morning speedwalking. Tsunade had deemed most of what Jiraiya had bought her ridiculously impractical, and only seemed to pull it out when she needed Regina to pretend to be a pretty, mute chair ornament. Incidentally, what Tsunade did see as practical was eerily similar to her own personal style. Suggestions were not welcome. 

She found Tsunade pretty easily, in the most smoke-filled izakaya she could find. She was gambling in the back and was obviously shitfaced. Her face was bright red, and she was happily yelling at a room of muscled, older men.

Regina wondered if the men knew that Tsunade genuinely enjoyed this- win or lose. Mostly lose. Even drunk in a ditch, Tsunade-hime could lay every single one of them out with a finger flick. She was confrontational and competitive, and gambling allowed her to be all of those things without murdering anybody or being in a stuffy kimono. 

It was kind of admirable. Tsunade evidently had a massive code of ethics that they had to obey. Yeah, they did crimes, but they were crimes like defrauding mob bosses, light smuggling (Regina assumed), and not returning hotel towels. To date, she had not seen or heard of Tsunade or Shizune even seriously injuring anyone- as opposed to how she had met her ersatz father figure.

Tsunade saw her immediately. She shoved some drunk old man lightly away, and patted the zabuton next to her. 

“This is my daughter!” She announced proudly and erroneously, presenting her like a prize on a game show. “Reji-chan… this is…” she gestured vaguely around the room “a room of nice gamblers.”

Regina doubted the ‘nice’ part very much, but it didn’t matter. Tsunade was mostly going to use her as a distraction to either 1) win a round and take all their money or 2) steal all their money using her sneaky sneaky fingers. 

“Want sake?” Tsunade asked, drunkenly brushing her fingers through Regina’s long, brown hair. She scratched her scalp lightly with her nails, and ended at her neck, giving it a very short squeeze massage. 

Regina would do anything for Tsunade in general, and in specific, for hair petting. 

But sake tasted like gasoline to her, so not that. 

“Umeshuu?” She suggested, “on the rocks?”

Tsunade grinned, feral and beguiling. “That’s my girl.” Regina noted that all the men in the room were very much staring at her. 

She was really helping to bring the money in today. 

“Want to try to play a round?” Tsunade cooed. She did this so often that Regina was actually starting to be not bad at gambling. “I’m sure that we can all teach you how to play.”

Several men basically tripped over themselves trying to be ‘helpful’. 

Tsunade took advantage of their attention by making sure Regina won the first round. After they’d all had a good laugh about that, Tsunade made a big display of putting all of Regina’s winnings in a bag on Regina’s lap. 

Then, she ordered another round of drinks. 

Regina was drunk, for sure, by the time they stumbled out of the bed. Tsunade purposefully made her lose a small part of her winnings, which made the other gamblers sympathetic enough that Tsunade easily walked off with all their coin purses before they even passed out on the street outside the bar. 

“I can’t believe people don’t just go home.” Regina slurred, somehow aware that her grammar was somehow less shit than when she was sober. Why was that?

“Too far.” Tsunade grunted. “And then they wake up late, hungover.”

Regina looked Tsunade up and down. Her jacket reeked of smoke and sake spills, her hair was in disarray. Her lipstick was horrendously smeared. 

“Don’t you?” 

Tsunade guffawed. It was so loud that Regina was actually startled. She jumped almost out of her skin and her chest suddenly hurt. She noticed that it was a bit hard to breathe, suddenly. 

Why was it so hard to breathe?

The night got darker. Her head felt fuzzy. 

A warm hand landed on her back. “It’s okay,” a voice soothed, before stroking her hair. “There’s no danger. You’re safe.” 

Regina took a second, and registered that it was Tsunade. Of course. Of course it was. They had been walking together and talking. Everything was fine. There were no problems. 

‘Until those guys wake up and try to kill us, forcing us to run out of town.’

She shuddered, but Tsunade just kept stroking her hair. 

The world was slowly becoming a bit easier to navigate. It wasn’t as dark as she’d thought. The stars were lighting the dirt road, and occasional lights in houses provided ambient light. 

“Feeling better?” Tsunade asked, quietly. Her voice was low and surprisingly maternal.

Regina nodded, then remembered that that didn’t seem to mean anything here. “Yes.” She whispered. She still felt a little breathless. The tightness in her chest hadn’t quite gone. 

Tsunade looked suddenly less drunk. There was a tightness in her eyes and a straightness to her spine that hadn’t been there earlier. She was looking at Regina. 

No, that was inaccurate. She was examining and assessing Regina. Regina felt a little uncomfortable. 

Tsunade seemed to sense that, and relaxed. Regina noted that the tenseness in Tsunade’s body language had disappeared. 

The thumping and tightness in her chest eased. Regina took a deep breath. 

Tsunade seemed to comprehend something, quietly huffing out air the way she did when she solved sudoku. 

“Let’s go home.” Tsunade said, meaning the current unmemorable ryokan where Shizune was doubtlessly waiting to shove them both into the shower. 

They walked home, Tsunade keeping her comforting hand on Regina’s back. 

They could have only slept for a few hours when Shizune very gently woke Regina. She pointed to Regina’s traveling clothes, and indicated that it was time to leave. 

By the time Regina had switched clothing and deposited her pajamas into the magic paper, Shizune was counting out money for their stay. She pointed to the bag that Regina had helped win last night, as a way of asking. 

Regina nodded once. Shizune took that for the yes it was, and waited for her by the doorway. Regina checked the room once for anything she might have left, which was easy because it was an empty room when the futon were put away. There was nothing, so she followed Shizune out. 

They left the coin pouch for the ryokan lady on the counter and left. 

The air was a bit humid still, but it was much cooler before the sun really came out. It was preferable to traveling during the heat of the day, when every step was basically death. 

They walked for hours, stopping to eat breakfast in a cafe in a small town on the road. Regina noted that this one also boiled their eggs, but ate the disgusting thing dutifully. She knew that she needed the protein. 

The coffee was fairly good, at least. They even used real cream, which was almost luxe in these circumstances. 

She and Shizune talked for a bit about their plans for the day while Tsunade went outside. When she came back in, she had a sour look on her face. 

Regina was immediately alert. 

Shizune looked at Tsunade quizzically. 

“Sensei.” Tsunade spat.

Shizune was evidently a little surprised. “Again?”

“Jiraiya-idiot reported to him.” Tsunade sat down and ate her cold boiled egg. 

Shizune looked at Regina. She chewed on her lower lip. 

That was a bad sign. Shizune was a champion worrier. It didn’t usually manifest itself in physical tics. 

“Is this… for me?” Regina asked, a bit clumsily. Grammar is really fucking hard. 

Tsunade chugged the coffee, then gave her dead-on eye contact. “Yes.”

“Is it trouble?” Regina didn’t really like the idea of people talking about her. She was already in deep enough shit. She didn’t need whatever monster taught Tsunade butting in on her life. Also- Jiraiya-dad reported to him? That was a whole level of shit she didn’t need. Her time with her fake dad had been brief, but had made her keenly aware that he gave no fucks about who thought they were in charge. 

Tsunade huffed, delicately tearing into her breakfast. Sometimes she reminded Regina of a lioness, using incomprehensibly sharpened teeth and claws with precision and oddly ladylike grace. 

She understood why her fake dad was scare-roused, in those moments. If Tsunade ever decided to stop being a gambling drunk and take over the world, the world had better hold onto its ass. Regina recommended immediate and total surrender. 

“Not trouble.” Tsunade reassured her, primly cleaning her hands again. She dropped some coins onto the table and stood up. They left the cafe and walked in the direction of the sun. 

A few more hours later, they arrived at their apparent destination. Shizune cleared out as usual, but Tsunade stayed behind. 

It made Regina feel nervous. Of course she felt along and wanted attention. But this was a change of pace. And Tsunade’s attention might not be a good thing.

“We need to talk about your education.” Tsunade said, after a long moment. 

It took Regina a second to puzzle that out, but then she obediently got out her fancy paper and made her study materials appear. Apparently she’d shoved them in last night in her drunken haze, because they tumbled out all over. 

It was less than impressive. Regina winced. 

Tsunade leaned down and picked up some of the books from her pile. She checked the covers and flipped through the pages, evidently reading Regina’s notes.

“You like politics.” Tsunade said. It wasn’t a question. 

Regina nodded. “Before I came here, I was studying international relations at school.” She’d learned some of those terms before this shitstorm had happened, so at least she could learn something useful. Jiraiya’s romance books mostly gave her really weird dialogue about how to tell people that their skin looked like the moon. Which she had to assume meant luminescent, and not full of craters. 

“What school?” Tsunade asked, looking at another book. She flipped through it, and upon discovering it was Jiraiya’s Icha Icha series, immediately tossed it into the trash can. 

‘I mean it’s stupid, but I still kind of need that for my notes.’ 

Regina resolved to recover it later, so that at least she didn’t have to duplicate her work. 

“Special school, after high school. The name… do you know Michigan?” 

Tsunade looked confused. 

“High school.” She repeated. “How many years of school have you had?”

Regina had to kind of think about that. Thirteen years in public school, four years in college, and about a year and a half in her Master’s. Goddammit, she had been so close. She’d even been taking classes during the summer. She was about to start her last term when she’d ended up here. 

The injustice. 

Tsunade was waiting. 

“About nineteen.” Regina spurted out, realizing that she’d taken too long. Tsunade probably thought she was stupid. 

“How much of your education is in politics, then?” Tsunade asked, sounded surprisingly interested. 

“Five or six years, all together.” Regina replied. “And I have been studying Japanese for about four years. But…” she trailed off, realizing how bad that sounded, “I am not very good at Japanese.’

Tsunade didn’t comment. She leafed through another book. 

“What do you know about here?”

“The country we are in now?” Regina asked, head cocked. “The Land of Hot Water is famous for its onsen, and has a local lord, but little power.”

“Iron?” Tsunade asked, pressing the subject. 

“A country ruled by a council of samurai. Shinobi activity is prohibited. They are conservative in nature, but considered influential and as fair decision makers. They are the only country that trades with far away countries.” Regina was kind of wondering where this was going. 

“What do you know about the Land of Fire?” Tsunade asked. Regina could see that her calm was false. There was a tense muscle in her neck. She was avoiding direct eye contact. 

“Uhhh… it’s very hot.” Regina blustered. “There is a Daimyo with considerable power. There is also mention of Konoha and shinobi from there. Like you and…” She hesitated. “My father.”

Regina then stared at the floor. 

“Not too bad.” Tsunade said, in a way that made Regina acutely aware of how much she was being judged. “How long have you been in Japan?” 

“I arrived about two months before you met me.” Regina said, not sure of how much time had passed since then. It was all a massive blur of mild heatstroke and mountains.

“Not long at all.” Tsunade said, to herself. Regina did not comment. “Were you taught manners?”

“Uh.” That felt pointed and weird. “I know manners for the land I came from, but not here. I have been…” she felt around for the appropriate words, “watching others.”

Tsunade pursed her lips. That felt like a devastating critique. 

“Jiraiya is an idiot.” She announced to no one in particular. 

Regina felt like maybe she was supposed to agree with that, but also like that would have been rude. So she just tried to be a piece of furniture. 

“Do you want to go to Konoha?” Tsunade asked, tapping her long fingers against the spine of one of Regina’s books. She noted that it was another Icha Icha. 

“I don’t know.” Regina was being honest. Not being a petty criminal might be better for her anxiety, but it was something about the devil she knew. Konoha was an unknown. Plus, if Tsunade and Jiraiya obviously crimed real hard, wherever they came from was probably just as bad or worse. 

“Your father believes you should be in Konoha.” Tsunade said, mildly.

That was kind of insulting. “I’m an adult.” Regina said defensively. Okay, she was a useless, skill-less adult, but shit. She should be making her own decisions. 

“You are.” Tsunade agreed. “If you want to stay with me, you can. But maybe you should try going to Konoha.”

“Why?” 

“You might like it.” Tsunade lied. 

At the skeptical look Regina gave her, she relented a bit. “Sensei will stop sending me sad letters.” Tsunade clarified. Then she looked down at the piles of books. “But you need more… training.”

“That sounds bad.” Regina said, blankly. “I don’t want to train.”

“Me either. But it’s either that or you die somewhere.” Tsunade blandly stacked Regina’s study materials. “I have to bring you back to Konoha. But you don’t have to stay.”

Regina rather thought that Tsunade had kind of buried the real news in there. The idea that she was likely to DIE was kind of more important to her than being the item in Tsunade’s fetch quest. 

“I understand,” she half-lied. 

“Come outside.” Tsunade was already walking out the door as she said that. 

Regina scrambled to her feet. 

Later, in retrospect, she would say that was the start of the long Hell Month. 

Every morning, instead of walking, now she was jogging- then full-on running, for hours behind Tsunade and Shizune. Upon arriving at their new destination, she would be given the chance to clean up. Then studying began. Shizune or Tsunade would lecture and quiz her on facts, her Japanese, and any other subject they found interesting that day. She studied every person of note in Konoha and the Land of Fire. 

She had to learn about the clans- Tsunade’s in particular. The founding of Konoha. The proper way to behave as the daughter of a famous shinobi. There were lessons on sitting, on ladies’ grammar, and what Regina considered to be an overemphasis on shodo. 

Tsunade had her produce ikebana every night while she was gone, and brutally graded her compositions according to the strict and numerous rules.

After lunch and another study session, she was taken out to the woods. She had to do pushups and pullups and so so many crunches while tied to a tree branch. Later, they got creative with kata and throwing large (soft) things at her. Then less soft things. Then small things. 

She wanted to die. Just a little bit. But frankly, she was too tired to even try. 

After that workout, she was expected to meditate while Tsunade barked at her to find her chakra better. She evidently could use enough to use the paper, but frankly, her reserves were bad. Bad bad bad. Tsunade wasn’t super concerned about that, though. “They’ll grow.” Tsunade reassured her, after making a flame the size of a match wiped her reserves and knocked her on her ass. “You’re Jiraiya’s daughter, he’s got loads of chakra.”

Regina was fairly sure they wouldn’t, really. Partly because she doubted that chakra reserves are genetic, and also that she was not related to that dude any more than she was related to TonTon. 

Lucky-ass TonTon, who never had to do pushups. Regina eyed him from beneath sweat-drenched bangs. 

‘I hope that in my next life I am a stupid, very cute, pet pig.’

She dropped to the dirt. She felt it sticking to her sweat and sticking her to the ground. 

‘Oh good. I hope the nice cool ground takes me.’

“Time to bathe.” Shizune said gently, next to Regina’s right ear. 

She groaned, but crawled back up. 

“I think dying might be better.” She informed Shizune, in a conversational tone. 

Shizune hummed in assent. “Training is awful.”

“Did you have to do this?” Regina asked, “How did you survive?”

“I’ve done this, and more, every day, since I was six years old.” Shizune opened the door to the ryokan and beckoned her inside so she could clean up and Shizune would do her weird magic medicine on her, so they could do the whole thing again.

“Ew.”

By the time they reached Konoha, Regina felt a little less like death. She could lift more, she could run for what felt like forever. Her chakra was… still bad. She could concentrate it, though. And sit on water for about five whole seconds before plunging ass-first into the onsen water. 

Evidently Tsunade was pleased enough with her progress. Mostly her actual knowledge-base, though. Politically, she said Regina was going to be ok. She did emphasize that Regina was never going to be a passable shinobi, which Regina was more than ok with. The retirement plan was basically a kunai to the head and (apparently) getting your name carved in the same rock with everyone else. 

Hard pass. 

She noted during the course of her thorough education that there were very very few older shinobi still kicking, but that there were elderly civilians of import everywhere. The closer they got to Fire Country in general, the more she noted obviously-armed young people with ugly vests of varying colors. Apparently they were traveling through non-shinobi countries, where any shinobi could be. She noted more Kumo headbands, some Rock ones, but very few Fire headbands. 

Subterfuge appeared to be fairly easy here. You just put on a different ugly hair accessory. Doubtless there was more to it than that (probably the ugly vestwear?), but unsurprisingly, nothing Regina had read had given out state secrets like that. 

They took up residence in a ryokan outside of Fire Country, where Tsunade didn’t gamble or steal the whole time. 

Regina noted the apparent seriousness and acted accordingly. She kept to herself, studying and doing her required exercises alone in the tatami room. She didn’t really want to meet that many more shinobi. Her experiences with them so far had been a bit hit or miss, a phrase that seemed a little too appropriate for her situation. 

Tsunade tersely exchanged letters via a fucking bird (?? why birds) and eventually asked Regina and Shizune to go out to buy drinks. 

They came back less than an hour later with a whole drum of sake and two torso-sized bottles of umeshuu. 

Tsunade greeted them with a mien of seriousness from her desk on the floor. A couple of severe-looking young men were in the room. At least, they were probably men? Their faces were covered by the creepiest masks Regina had ever seen. Evidently they were meant to be animals? If she squinted, she kind of thought one of them might have been a dog. Or a fox. It was definitely… something with ears. 

She was guessing they were men merely by body type. They wore all black, and were bulky with both muscle and probably hidden sharp things. Their body language was blank and their spines were ramrod straight.

‘Actually, women can obviously be sexy, stacked murderers too. Hashtag feminism.’ She looked at Shizune and Tsunade and wished for a better, less sex-riddled brain. 

Tsunade bade the masked weirdos to leave the room, and they jumped a little bit to vanish, reappearing just outside the door. 

‘Why. It was a whole fucking ten feet.’

Regina decided this line of enquiry began and ended with “We all do it, because it looks cool.” She popped open the umeshuu and the sake and poured Tsunade a glass. She looked at Tsunade, back at Shizune, and then poured a second glass for Tsunade. 

She and Shizune poured for each other, drinking the umeshuu straight. It was sweet and tangy and lightly cool. 

Tsunade cackled after one of the stage hands (that was what they reminded her of, she remembered) brought her another sealed letter. 

Tsunade showed it to Shizune, who swallowed a snort. Barely. 

Tsunade made eye contact with Regina and her eyes were twinkling. She barked at the stage hands to hike it (not a direct translation. After four cups, Regina’s accuracy in word recall was disappearing at a rapid rate). They left, again jumping up. Tsunade opened the screen door slightly, so that all three of them could watch the men walk away down the path. It was very anticlimactic. 

Tsunade then shut the door, and looked back at them. 

“We’re out of sake.” Tsunade said, which was a lie. But Regina didn’t care. “Rejina, would you go get some more?”

Well, Regina surveyed the room, it wasn’t quite a lie. Most of Tsunade’s sake was gone. One bottle of umeshuu was gone. Sooooo…. This was obviously a vital mission. 

She saluted, in a drunken and mocking imitation of the stagehands. Where that came from, she didn’t know. 

Tsunade choked on her drink and started cackling. Shizune was definitely giggling. 

“It seems so disrespectful when you do it.” Tsunade said, not without admiration. 

“Is a talent.” Regina slurred slightly. “I take my responsibility real serious.”

Tsunade nodded, faking the seriousness of authority. 

Regina got up and walked out the door back towards the liquor store. 

Her feet hurt, but she had enough money and there was only like, one street. It would be hard to fail. 

But there was an immediate obstacle. In the form of a massive person directly in front of her. 

‘Wha.’

She looked up. 

“Momo!”

It was hard to tell how Momo-san felt. Most of his face was covered with those weird bandages. His cowprint arm warmers were just as stupid as ever. 

“Remember me?” She asked. Was this not her friend?

“You are drunk.” Momo said, gently clapping a massive hand on her shoulder. “Very drunk. And you forgot your shoes.”

“Oh… shoes.” That was why her feet hurt. Life was hard. And it was unreasonable to expect drunk people to keep putting on and taking off their shoes. 

“I’m supposed to get more drinks.” She informed him, using his arm to steady herself. “... But I think I need help.”

“Un.” He grunted. Then he picked her up in a princess carry. 

“To the saketen?” She asked, hopefully. 

“Do you have money?” 

She patted her traveling coin pouch. Then, thinking it over, she just handed it to him. 

“Why give me your money?” He asked, sounding amused. 

“I can’t be trusted.” She yawned, into his shoulder. He smelled like fresh rain. “Plus apparently people pay shinobi for things.”

“But you said we were friends.” He said, walking down the street. 

“We are!” She insisted. “But isn’t rescuing me from myself work? Doesn’t it count? You can pay friends for their work.”

She corrected herself. “You should pay friends for their work. And pay them even better than people who aren’t your friends.”

He seemed confused. “Why is that?”

“Because if you care about people, you should make sure they have enough money to live?” Regina muttered. “Where I am from, it’s really important.”

“Aaaah.” He said. 

Apparently he thought they needed two drums of sake and some shochu. Regina held the shochu on her stomach while Momo tied the drum’s ropes together and over his shoulder. They (he) walked back to the ryokan in silence. 

“Come in?” She asked, when they reached the door. “Tsunade-hime and Shizune-san are here.”

He hesitated. 

“It’ll be fun!” She tugged lightly at his arm warmer. “Also, I can’t carry all of this.”

That did it. He put her down and removed his own shoes, placing them neatly in a slot. She found him some hotel slippers, and they trudged down the hallway. 

Tsunade and Shizune were laughing about something when they came in. 

“I found my friend.” Regina gestured back to Momo, who was lingering in the doorway. “Lucky, right?”

“That is lucky.” Tsunade laughed. “Zabuza-san, I see you brought her back.”

“She tried to pay me.” He said, dangling the coin pouch. “For carrying her to and from the liquor store.”

“Was she a good client?” Tsunade asked, gesturing to one of the zabuton.

“She didn’t even throw up on me and she paid up front.” Momo sat down. 

Regina was just thrilled this was going well. Last time was awkward. 

Shizune seemed less awkward than before, but had still gone a bit rigid. Still, it was progress. Regina crawled next to Shizune and plonked herself down on the zabuton. She put the shochu out in front of her. 

Tsunade and Momo poured each other glasses. They looked back at her and Shizune and poured them both half-glasses. Regina appreciated being included. 

Tsunade passed back their glasses. Regina held hers in front of her face. She was about to drink but Tsunade shook her head no. 

“Wait.”

Then she addressed the room. Regrettably, Regina only understood the words  “Rejina-chan”, “job”, and “cheers”. She drank at the appropriate time and wondered what about her they were cheering for. 

Momo asked a question, in words Regina couldn’t catch. Something about….words? Important words?

Tsunade held up two documents. One she’d obviously been writing. There was her handwriting- at first all precision, devolving into messy strokes. She had apparently spilled a glass on it, because it was damp. 

The other one was written by someone sober with a big-ass inkan. 

Momo read through them both carefully.  He asked questions, and Tsunade answered. 

He took the second one and pulled fresh paper from the pile. Then they evidently began collaborating- talking with and over each other, writing, laughing. 

At one point, they asked questions. 

What was important to her? Naps. Free time. 

How much money did she think her expertise was worth? Lots and lots of money. 

Did she like hats? No. They never look good on anyone. 

She had no idea what, if anything, that had to do with their little writing project. Shizune interjected from time to time, which usually made them think for a bit and then start over again. 

Four hours later, even Momo was at least tipsy. And whatever it was, was finished. Tsunade walked outside and Shizune put her hands over Regina’s ears. 

There was a really, really loud whistle. And the stagehands came out of the darkness, where they had evidently just been chilling up in the trees for hours.

‘Was that supposed to be cool? Or did Tsunade really tell them to jump up a tree and they followed it to the letter?’. Mysterious. 

Tsunade gave them what Regina assumed to be orders. They took the rolled up and sealed paper from her, and disappeared into the night. 

Then she and Momo and Shizune just started laughing. They laughed and laughed until they all passed out. 

Just for kicks, Regina laughed a bit, too. But mostly she went to lie down on the floor on her side.

The next morning, Tsunade sent Momo out. Then she started fussing. She got out all of Regina’s clothes, agonizing over decisions. She put all the study materials away, and sent some clothes out to be laundered by the ryokan staff. She held up kimono after kimono in front of Regina’s face, evaluating every decision. 

This process was baffling, but Regina tried to take it in stride. Apparently today was important. 

“Why am I wearing kimono?” She asked, after two hours of being used as a dress-up doll. 

“Today, you are going to Konoha. You have to look like a princess.” Tsunade said absentmindedly, evaluating a handful of kanzashi. 

“So, like in Iron. But every day.” Regina was disappointed. She couldn’t even tie the damn obi by herself. That wasn’t going to be workable. 

“No…” Tsunade looked up. “Not every day. But some days. And first impressions are important. Your father talks himself up so much, you have to live up to it.” The last part was wry. 

“Shit.” Regina said, passionately. “And if I hate it?”

“You flee Konoha and find me, we go back to what we were doing before.” Tsunade shrugged. “And we tried, so no one will bother us.”

“They will definitely continue to bother us.” Shizune said, under her breath. Tsunade didn’t react.

Regina noted that. 

“I won’t be coming with you, but Shizune and Zabuza-san will be accompanying you to the gates of Konoha.” Tsunade said, with undisguised glee. She evidently had plans. 

“Where will I find you if I don’t want to stay?” Regina asked. She hadn’t considered that she couldn’t walk in, say ‘nope, don’t like this’ and make a u turn to freedom.

Tsunade gave her a big, dramatic forehead kiss. “Don’t worry about it. They would bring you to me.” She then selected a bright red camellia kanzashi. It was… ornate. It went next to the kimono Tsunade had determined most appropriate. 

They wrapped her in layers of silks, which would have felt fancy if Regina wasn’t sure she was about to die of heatstroke. The socks were thick, the proposed geta looked uncomfortable.

“You won’t be doing much walking in this anyway.” Tsunade waved Regina’s obvious concerns away. “Purely ceremony.”

Shizune dressed in fancy kimono and Momo showed up with a massive princess box. It was covered in brass and jewelled detail. 

“See if that idiot thinks I don’t know how to make an entrance.” Tsunade muttered from behind Regina. 

Then she looked around. “Where are the ANBU I asked for?” 

Anbu?

A few minutes later, a four person team of stagehand weirdos appeared in front of the building. They were carefully posing, in the way that they were trying very hard to not be posing. They sucked at nonchalance. 

‘Yeah, yeah, you can do that kawarimi thing real good.’ Regina thought, feeling somewhat burnt on its charm. Also, now she knew they were called anbu, whatever the hell that meant. 

You learn something new every day. 

Shizune delicately walked into the box, taking a seat. Regina now realized what about this had been so hilarious last night.

She kept a straight face, though, and imitated Shizune’s movements. 

A moment later, Momo sat on her other side, ugly-ass arm warmers and all. He had not dressed up in any way whatsoever. 

The anbu evidently picked up the box and started valiantly walking towards Konoha. The blinds were open, and Regina blew a kiss goodbye to Tsunade, who looked startled. 

Then she returned it, waving, as Momo closed the curtain. 

“There’s dirt I don’t want to get in my eye,” he said, being that he was full of shit. 

The three of them tried very hard not to audibly laugh for the hour it took to reach the border. There, apparently other shinobi approached their shinobi, asked for paperwork, and generally gossiped. 

They could hear some of it. 

Well, Momo could. 

“They were wondering what they were importing.” He reported. 

“Meat.” Regina joked. 

They joked quietly for some time, and became silent again as the shinobi walked back to their box. 

After another hour, maybe? Regina had lost countless hands of cards. They hadn’t placed bets, but if they had she would have been destitute by the time they reached Konoha. 

“Maybe you’re the princess here,” she said to Momo, who was either incredibly lucky or so good at cheating that Shizune couldn’t catch it.

“What are you, then?” He asked, dealing another hand. 

“The human equivalent of a gold-plated lamp?” She guessed. 

Shizune laughed quietly. “No, a teddy bear in a dress.”

Regina pretended to be offended. “This is rude, a crime, I cannot stand for this kind of treatment. No one has ever been so cruel to another human being, ever.”

After another hour or so, the box was again lowered to the ground. 

“Say hello to the peasantry for me.” Momo whispered. Shizune checked and adjusted both of their kimono. 

Regina lightly pushed his arm. “Do it yourself.”

Then, the door opened. The anbu flitted away and she could see a large number of people waiting outside. In front of them was an older man in a robe and the ugliest hat she had ever seen. 

Something… tickled at the back of her memory. 

‘Oh no, is the hat part of my new, mandatory office uniform?’