Shinobi Isekai!

But Not Unwanted

Tsunade's good mood had officially soured.

She was just about to cut her losses after an uncharacteristic winning streak—the first sign of troubles to come—when an all too familiar chakra signature made itself known behind her.

"Hime," Jiraiya said as he settled into the barstool beside hers, smiling wanly down at her. "It's been a while."

She sighed, downing her sake in a single gulp before slamming the cup down on the bar. "Go away, Jiraiya."

On her other side, Shizune watched their interaction nervously and Tsunade passed her a sign to be ready to run. Her apprentice nodded slightly, her grip on TonTon tightening enough to make the pig squeal in protest.

"Hime," her old teammate's voice was uncharacteristically serious, the jovial veneer he usually wore around her nowhere to be found. "I need your help."

She turned to look at him, face already twisted in a scowl, but he wasn't looking at her. No, he was looking over his shoulder at the entrance to the bar where three genin aged children stood looking back at him. Kushina's child was exchanging furious whispers with an— the —Uchiha brat, both boys shining beacons of how her desertion had hurt her Village. The girl with them was conspicuously shorter than them, with pale, freckled skin and curly brown hair that just reached her collarbone. She was dressed in a high collared shirt that was too similar to the Uchiha's jumpsuit for comfort. As if sensing Tsunade's gaze on her, she met it head on, the flat black of her pupilless eyes made all the more unsettling by the bright red of her bottom lashline. She hadn't seen markings like that since—.

"What's with the brats," her voice sounded just as strangled as she felt. "The old man sic another team on you?"

Jiraiya sighed. "Hime, sensei is dead. Orochimaru killed him."

The hubbub of the bar faded into silence as she took in that information. How was that possible? Sensei was one of the most powerful shinobi in history. Even if Orochimaru was his favorite, the idea of her teammate hurting him was so bizarre she couldn't even fathom it. Surely he wouldn't go easy on his old student with his life on the line? The thought that the man who'd told her so many stories of her uncle Tobirama was dead and gone, one more tie to her family severed, filled her with enough pain to cut through the drunken haze she'd purposely put herself in.

"So, what? Don't tell me the old fogies want me to take his place."

Of course, they did. Jiraiya wouldn't have come in person, otherwise. As much as it hurt to admit, he only ever sought her out when he needed something. She'd made it too difficult to be worth a casual visit.

"Yes, but that's not all," her old friend's aged face was dour as he gestured at the children. "Chibi-chan, come here."

The girl child answered him, leaving her teammates bickering at the door to stand between the Sannin on their barstools. Jiraiya reached out and placed a hand on her head, ruffling her curls with a grimace.

"This is Hanako Hatake, Kakashi's brat." Um, what? "She was one of Orochimaru's targets during his little invasion and ended up hurt. Go on, chibi. Show her."

Those fathomless black eyes darted between the two elder shinobi before a henge proofed out of existence, revealing a perfectly identical child—.

Oh.

The poor brat had lost an arm—a traditionally crippling injury for a ninja—missing everything below the perfectly clean cut just past her elbow.

"I don't suppose you have the arm?"

"I do, actually." Oh, good. The idea of it sitting in a lab somewhere was not a nice one. "But it probably won't do much good."

Tsunade worked a brow at him, sneering at his assumption. "And what makes you think that? This is obviously a recent injury, if you're asking for help. I hope you're not insinuating I've lost my touch."