The Senju Prince & The Last Uchiha

He wanted to be a hero.

She was stunned, she was an avenger—living only for the sake of avenging. Yet, the Senju swore to protect his precious people and his friends—no matter how spiteful or annoying they were—he announced that when that Inari challenged him, calling a weakling and a pathetic fool.

Satsuki was impressed that a brat like him wanted to challenge well-trained ninja—even if they were only genins. That Inari had spirit but too bad, he was a civilian child and only knew how to whine instead of standing up on his own two feet and fighting for what he wanted.

Revenge? Then stand up and fight.

The child was even more pathetic in her eyes than the Senju was—but she didn't voice this, remaining silent as Haruto yelled at the brat.

At least Haruto proved to be a challenge to her rank and strength—for those alone, she'd tolerate his presence and his incessant chatters around her.

She promised herself to tolerate him until she could beat him. But now was one of the times she couldn't tolerate him. Growling as she slid down the tree trunk—again!—she snapped her head to where the Senju was whining and moaning and groaning as he tumbled off his tree.

He rubbed the back of his redhead head, scowling and looking up at her. "What?" he asked rudely.

"Shut up," said Satsuki moodily, her temper and patience frayed when the stupid tree and her stubborn chakra wouldn't cooperate to her wishes. "You're distracting me."

Haruto's lips curled but he sighed and shook his head, tilting and looking upwards. The moon shone down onto both clan heirs. Haruto turned momentarily to make a proposal—maybe they could help one another—but his breath caught when he saw his female companion. He whistled appreciatively—must've been spending too much time with his Ero-Sennin—when he caught her soaked clothes clinging to her skin, allowing him to see her…

"Oi!" If Haruto's eyes weren't malfunctioning or something, he thought he saw her cheeks darkening.

"Oops, sorry!" He scratched the back of his head sheepishly as she crossed her arms, glaring at him. "Uh, having a hard time?" he gestured to the tree which swayed even when there was no breeze—his Mokuton doing. He instantly realized it was a ridiculous question the moment she glared at him—even harder, she always seemed to be glaring at everything.

"I'm surprised you're still here."

And he knew what she said was genuine. He smiled wistfully. "Well, I have large chakra reserves so controlling them is hard—I'm just used to pouring chakra here and there into my blows, not like Mom's." Someday, he would master and surpass his mother—and his father along the way. "Hey, why are you so determined anyway?"

"I could ask you the same question," Satsuki shot back sourly, obviously not going along with Haruto's attempts at playing nice.

"I want to be a Hokage—the greatest one ever!" Haruto said enthusiastically, grinning at the mere thought but it dimmed as he continued. "If I can't control my chakra, how am I going to be Hokage and protect my precious people?"

"How am I going to protect my precious people if I don't dedicate myself to work?" Then he'd smiled, fingers poking the middle of her forehead before he stood and left, his back turned to her and she was always left looking at his back—and damn did the memory hurt.

Haruto was so much like him, yet he wasn't.

"Hey, what's your dream?"

"It's not a dream, it's my goal—I'm going to avenge my clan and maybe, revive it."

"I couldn't imagine you as a great mom, or motherly for the matter."

"…I suppose I'd just have to take back the thought of you being a decent father."

"What? Seriously! You think I can be a great dad?"

"Decent, dumbass."

Haruto sprang to his feet, looking energized all of a sudden, judging by the tireless bright grin on his face. "Well, if you smiled more like now, you'd be a nice mother!"

Satsuki's face fell the moment he said that, her cheeks felt stiff as if she hadn't moved them in a long time to express her feelings.

She hadn't realized her lips had curled upwards.

***

She was thoroughly exhausted but with the last shred of her energy, she dragged herself through the front door, minding to be as silent as possible since she didn't want to disturb the sleeping occupants. She glanced at the stairs longingly, wanting to just collapse on her futon and snore away but her hygienic needs came first.

Instead of making her way up to her shared room with Sakura to sleep, she headed to the shower. Satsuki didn't need to take any clothes from her pack seeing as she'd put it near the bathroom. All she needed to do was pull out her plain shirt and shorts and she was done—once she showered of course.

Satsuki dried her hair with her towel—and the damp strands were already drying quickly, due to their shortness and lack of numbers; it was one of the advantages of having short hair. Also, a reminder of revenge in a strange sort of way; her hair had been long back when she was a child and her family loved to play with it. Looking at her long hair in the reflection, felt it flow down her back was a heavy burden when, after the Massacre, she woke up and seeing her tangled strands, would remember no one would brush it and braid it for her again.

Satsuki could still recall the ANBU caretakers's look of shock when they saw her new hairstyle. Since then, she'd been her own hairdresser, cutting it off messily with a kunai without so much as feeling remorse.

Satsuki ran a hand through her messy cowlick hair, her footsteps making no sound despite the wooden floor's poor quality. The Uchiha compound's floorboards were smooth, and comfortable to walk on—Tazuna's house was creaky, and there were splinters here and there. She couldn't wait to get back home, the comfy surroundings filled with bittersweet memories.

She stopped; home ? Where was home without a family?

Her lips curled downwards into a scowl as memories flashed past her, and what the Senju said earlier, his comment to her wish to revive the Clan, about her being a mother.

If she wanted a stronger future generation, a stronger clan, she'd need a powerful suitor, someone she could tolerate and would respect her. So far, no boy or men reached her standards and was already starting to doubt the existence of one—Kakashi might fit, but he held no respect for her and she sincerely doubted his ability to copulate despite his perverted tendencies, plus, she could barely tolerate him.

The male population in Konohagakure was pathetic, except…

Pools of gold, spikes in mockery of the rose, scent of wood, of home—she closed her eyes.

She opened them again, pulled out of her reverie, by the sounds of crying. Satsuki traced the source of the noise easily, locating it at the parlor, seeing a young boy's small, shaking form easily.

Inari; and he was crying, "D-dad…" he sniffled miserably. "I miss you… ugh—"

Memories, faces of her own father came into mind; she respected her father, despite his strictness and how he always brushed her off as insignificant; but in the end she supposed what mattered most was that he was family and she cared. Her last memories of her sire weren't pleasant and she didn't want to relieve it—in this aspect, she supposed she could empathize with what Inari was feeling.

Satsuki wondered what she should do; leave or talk to him? The latter was something the Senju would've done. And she was curious about his source of strength; he, that despicable man she'd loved dearly to kill, had told her that bonds only weaken her yet Senju had lots of bonds and he was strong. She loathes to admit she wanted to know what made him so strong, what gave him the urge to protect others.

Hero-complex, maybe?

Whatever, she wouldn't know by just guessing. On impulse, Satsuki made herself known, stepping especially hard on the floorboard to create a sound. As expected, Inari's head jerked up in surprise. When he saw her, he scowled moodily, "What do you want?" he demanded, crossing his little arms once he'd rubbed his face free of tears—which didn't do much to hide the fact he'd been crying.

True, what did she hope to accomplish by doing so? "Do you hate him?" she asked instead and when little Inari furrowed his brows in confusion, she elaborated with a roll of her eyes, "Gatou, do you hate the man for what he'd done?"

Hate simply burned in Inari's eyes as he nodded vigorously but then the fire dimmed. "Yeah but, there's nothing we can do about him, I wish he'd just die already." He looked up abruptly. "But I know you'll fail—everyone who tried did!"

"So you're hoping for someone else to come and kill him for you?" Satsuki demanded, irritated. She felt unnerved around the boy because he reminded her so much of herself when she was younger, traumatized after the Massacre. Their hate, their anger, passion and failure—she knew Inari also felt what she felt when family died, she also had been helpless when her parents died and Inari certainly couldn't do anything when his father was executed. She wanted past-her to disappear because the young girl before was a princess and weak and was helpless to do anything—she didn't want that.

She scowled, turning away. "Instead of whining and complaining, why don't you take a stand and fight back, you coward?" she said coldly, ignoring the way Inari flinched away as if he'd been slapped. "My father died before my eyes either, and I was helpless back then too, but now, I'm fighting back to get my vengeance. But, can the same be said for you, you who could make a change but didn't?

"Liberation doesn't come when you just sit and wait for it to. And even when you're free in the future, it wouldn't be your work. And later, you'd think that you don't deserve freedom you've never fought for."

She left, leaving Inari to gape at her back.