Poker is a simple yet complex game. You need the right cards and also know how to bluff. There is a bit of luck involved as well. It was more interesting when there were more players, so Tsunade and Jun joined a table with other players. They ended up sitting facing each other, perfectly positioned to observe one another. 

The air hung heavy with anticipation, a palpable tension that seemed to dance among the swirling trails of cigar smoke. The worn-out wooden table, scarred by countless rounds of the game, bore witness to another clandestine gathering of players, each cloaked in shadows, their faces a mosaic of unreadable expressions.

The deck of cards lay in the center like a dormant beast, waiting to be awakened by the hands that would manipulate its fate. The shuffle, a rhythmic symphony of whispers and rustles, echoed through the room, setting the stage for a dance of strategy and luck.

Seated around the table were individuals from disparate walks of life, their motivations as diverse as the patterns on the back of the cards. A man, weathered by the effect of time, stared down an impeccably dressed middle-aged man, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the worn brim of his hat. A woman, her eyes betraying a hint of mystery, observed the unfolding drama with a quiet intensity that belied her composed exterior.

The dealer, a stoic figure with a face etched with the stories of countless games, dealt the cards with deliberate precision after carefully discarding the first one. As the players glanced at their hands, a symphony of gasps, smirks, and suppressed emotions played out in the fleeting expressions that flickered across the faces of the players.

It was the first round. Jun peeked at his cards without letting his expression betray the slightest feeling. One needed to have a poker face to have a chance at this game.  He had a pair of eights.

The room fell into a hushed lull as the dealer, whose eyes betrayed no emotion, reached for the deck with an air of deliberate composure. With a slow and almost ceremonial motion, he discarded a card face down and revealed three cards, the Flop, each one unfurling like a secret laid bare.

The first, the Queen of Diamonds, shimmered in the dim light, its regal presence casting an exquisite glow across the table. A collective inhale seemed to ripple through the players, their eyes flicking from the shared card to their concealed hands, calculating possibilities.

Beside the queen lay the 2 of Spades, unassuming in its simplicity. Its presence added a quiet tension to the picture, like an unexpected twist in a carefully crafted play. Some exchanged glances, while others tightened their grips on their money, their intentions veiled behind masks of inscrutability.

Then, the third card, the 8 of Hearts, was revealed. As it joined the table, a palpable shift in the atmosphere took hold. The room now crackled with an electric undercurrent, the players adjusting to the newfound possibilities etched in the combinations of cards laid bare.

In that suspended moment, the dealer's expression remained unchanged like a Sphinx-like guardian of fate.

Then, the first player announced his bet and pushed the money toward the center of the table. The second player followed. The third, with a naughty rictus that could be as sincere as a pure bluff, doubled the bet. Jun called the bet. The next players did the same, and then Tsunade also called. Everyone kept a completely unexpressive face while placing their bet, but it was Tsunade whom Jun observed, and it was he whom the Sannin examined in return.

“You are a little far from home,” Tsunade said with a smile.

“Distance is relative for a shinobi,” Jun replied returning the smile.

“Hmm, are you on a mission?”

Jun considered his answer for a moment. Then, he raised his bet and answered in a light tone.

“Not really an official mission, no. But… you could call it like that.”

“You’re flying solo too? You must like to take risks.”

“Oh, I assure you; there is no need to worry about me.”

Tsunade squinted her eyes. 

With a measured deliberation, the dealer continued the performance. His hands moved with an almost hypnotic rhythm toward the deck and discarded another card face down. The anticipation hung thick in the air, and all eyes were fixated on the dealer's hands as he unveiled the fourth community card, the Turn, with a gentle flick of his wrist. The 9 of Clubs lay there, a subtle emissary of fate, joining the Queen of Diamonds, the 2 of Spades, and the 8 of Hearts, reshaping the narrative of the round.

The room, bathed in the muted glow of dim lights, witnessed a subtle dance of emotions. Some players exchanged glances, their expressions betraying glimpses of calculation or concealed excitement. The 9 of Club, unassuming as it may be, had become a crucial pivot point, holding the key to the destiny of the various hands.

Around the table, the tapping of fingers on the worn surface created a subtle percussion to the unfolding drama. The players, their minds calculating probabilities and unraveling the enigma of the communal cards, adjusted their strategies with a mix of precision and intuition.

In this charged atmosphere, Tsunade, who held a Queen and an Ace, still felt confident. The Turn card may add an extra layer of suspense to others, prompting a silent negotiation between their concealed cards and the revealed cards, but she remained firm in her decision.

When her turn came, she raised the bet. The other players exchanged glances. The pot was becoming substantially large, but none of them had failed to notice the special tension between the two newcomers. They obviously knew who Tsunade was. She frequented the casino a lot. She was among the regulars. A player announced he was folding and abandoned the round.

“You're very confident, kid.” Tsunade said to the jonin.

Jun raised an eyebrow, imitating Shikaku Nara's unfailing assurance.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Nobody really important would ask that question,” Tsunade replied.

Jun’s self-esteem was a bit wounded, but he kept his composure.

“I guess you don’t. Then the irony of the situation is lost on you.”

Shizune let out a nervous giggle. Tsunade squinted, no doubt realizing that she had missed something important. Jun realized he had taken the upper hand. He decided to press on.

“It's a lot funnier for me. I can already imagine the face your cousin will make when he learns about this.”

“I have no cousin,” She answered in a dry tone.

“Ah, yes, sorry. I forgot that your clan denied their children at birth.”

Jun knew he was twisting the facts. The Senju clan was a warrior clan. Only those who have proven themselves on the battlefield were granted the surname. But personally, Jun thought it absurd to deny someone a last name because of that reason. 

Refusing to give a surname to a child was the same as disavowing the child in question. The Senjus recognized their descendants only if they proved their worthiness. A name was a symbol of love and belonging; one shouldn’t need to earn it. It was the same as if we had to prove that we were good enough to be born within a family.

But maybe he thought like that because of who he was. He wasn’t only Jun Uchiha, the one who had always put his family first but also the one who had the memories and culture of another life, another world, where the filiation of a child was a given and not a privilege. Maybe at the time of the clan wars, it made sense to exclude those we wanted to keep out of conflict. But for Jun, a name was a bond of love, and... the custom of the Senju seemed to him barbaric, quite simply. 

Thinking to that point, Jun realized he had done the same to Masami. He refrained from giving her the Uchiha last name until she was old enough. He did it to protect her, to give her a life free from clan worries and enemies of the Uchihas, but the result was the same. He pushed the thought aside and refocused on Tsunade. He had said all that to make her react, to make her lose her cool. And it worked.

“What?!” Tsunade yelled.

Her left hand gripped the worn-out table, and the wood groaned under the pressure. A few players backed down slightly, worried. Another also folded, hastily abandoning the game. The atmosphere had become electric.

“Am I wrong? Even you don’t officially have the Senju last name.” Jun provoked. “You share the same blood with others in the village, but you have denied and abandoned them.”

Well, Jun didn't exactly plan to go that far, but you can’t pull back an arrow already fired. Moreover, abandoning and denying one’s clan was a sensitive subject for him as well. Who had abandoned who first, between him and the Uchihas, between the Uchihas and his mother, between him and Shisui, and between him and Itachi?

He almost expected Tsunade to flip the table over, because that was what he would have probably done in her place if someone was openly provoking him like that. But Tsunade didn’t react aggressively to Jun’s surprise.

“The Senjus are doing much better without me.”

Jun was briefly speechless. Then, he narrowed his eyes.

“There is no Senju clan anymore. Without a clan leader to recognize the members of the clan, they were reduced to nothing.”

“Isn't it better for everyone? It's not an easy surname to carry.” Tsunade added.

Jun understood why in the story he remembered, Tsunade had never recognized any other Senju. If Tsunade knew who exactly was sitting in front of her, would she have spoken with the same arrogance about how some surnames were hard to carry? Jun wondered.

“I have a friend who has the same opinion as you,” he said.

“You talk a lot with your friends about a clan that is not yours?”

Jun stared at her, and the Sannin held his gaze.

“The Senjus know the system. They know that we can be of the clan without ever bearing the burden of our last name. You're way too outraged, but you don’t look like a Senju to me.”

She wasn't wrong. Jun took a deep breath and then exhaled. It was his turn to bet. He called the current bet. When he spoke again, his voice was clear and calm, with no emotions whatsoever.

“My friend is personally involved.”

“Oh? Are we related?” Tsunade asked.

“Probably,” Jun replied with a hint of bitterness. “Not that it's of much use to him. It’s more about what he possessed. Let's say he looks like your grandfather. For him, distancing himself from the Senju isn’t really an option. If some people know about him, it could be problematic.”

For the first time, Tsunade looked confused.

“My grandfather?”

The dealer, whose demeanor remained impassive through the whole ordeal, seemed to possess an innate understanding of the play unfolding at the table as he chose this moment to act again. His hands reached the deck with a reverence that bordered on ceremonial. A single card, the top card of the deck, was gracefully plucked and set aside. This symbolic act, the burning of the card, added a layer of mystic to the proceedings as if the discarded card held secrets too profound for mortal eyes.

The room, already ensnared in the mystic of the game, watched with halted breath as the dealer, an enigmatic guardian of probabilities, prepared to reveal the final communal card, the River. The momentary pause felt like an eternity, a pregnant silence that resonated with the collective heartbeat of those who had ventured into the realm of chance.

With a magician's finesse, the dealer laid down the river, the 9 of Diamond. The card materialized like a clandestine emissary sent to seal the fates of the players. Its crimson facets caught the dim light, momentarily casting a kaleidoscopic glow across the table. The room, once cloaked in the muted glow of anticipation, now shimmered with the radiant possibilities encapsulated in this last piece of the puzzle.

Around the table, the players' eyes widened as the River completed the picture, The Queen of Diamonds, the 2 of Spades, the 8 of Hearts, the 9 of Clubs, and now, the 9 of Diamonds. The communal narrative had reached its zenith, and the cards, in their silent proclamation, revealed the intricate stories concealed within each hand.

It was the last turn of the game. Jun felt the weight of the moment. The River had increased his chances to stand as the silent victor in this high-stakes ballet of chance. His hands which had developed into a Full House with eights over nines stood firm with the collective might of the communal cards. 

He gave his cards a brief look, acting like he had to check them again, then raised the bet. The remaining players grimaced, then called his bet. Tsunade, still believing in her pair with her queen, did the same with an automatic gesture.

It was time to reveal their hands. The middle-aged man formed a pair of nine. The woman with the mysterious air had nothing; she was just bluffing. The old man with the hat proudly formed a pair with the communal cards. Tsunade, with an evil rictus, slammed her cards on the table, forming a pair of Queens, and looked at Jun. The latter calmly lined up his pair of eights, displaying the might of his Full House, and won the game. 

Mentally, Jun was relieved. Knowing that Tsunade was unlucky and winning a game of cards when the only version of the game he knew was strip poker. Yes, Jun had learned to play cards with Anko. Which at the time was also his girlfriend. What else could he possibly expect from Anko?

Jun gathered his winnings which quickly disappeared into his pockets.

“No grudges, right?” He said to Tsunade.

She didn’t smile. She glanced at the young ninja.

“What were you saying about your friend and my grandfather?”

There was something cold in her voice. Jun weighed his options. He hadn’t planned to bring Yamato into the conversation at first. But his Mokuton wasn't really a secret anymore. Yamato himself wasn’t as reluctant to use it openly after his team's disastrous C-rank mission. His hesitation had almost cost him and his Genins. One way or another, the secret will be out.

But still, the Mokuton was a sensitive topic, especially in a casino full of potential spies… so Jun tried to stay vague.

“He has the... You know what.”

“No, I don’t” Tsunade snapped at him. “What exactly does he have?!”

She was tense and raised her tone. She had probably already guessed what it was, but refused to believe it. Jun hesitated. Too many people listened to their conversation. He dared not to reveal the name of the Kekkei Genai.

He thought for a moment as he stared Tsunade straight in the eyes and made the snake’s hand seal. It was the basic hand seal that initiated most Mokuton Jutsus. Tsunade's eyes widened as she understood, and Jun sketched a victorious smile…

Then the jonin dove to the side as Tsunade finally let her frustration out and sent the table flying.