Chapter 55

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As a rule, Sasuke kept people out of the Uchiha Compound unless their presence was strictly necessary—like the man he'd hired to repair the jetty destroyed in his and Naruto's spar. Even his team wasn't exempt. If they wanted to share a meal or gather outside of training, it was usually at Shino's—or rarely, Sakura's—house.

But before he knew it, Naruto visited regularly, mostly to spar or discuss theory. The first time he visited, Sasuke was ready to lay down the law… until he'd received the photographs of his mother with the promise of more in the next few days. From then on, Naruto visited more, until his visits became a part of a schedule Sasuke couldn't bring himself to put an end to.

And why would he? Each visitation brought with it an insight. Without Naruto's willing participation, his progress with genjutsu would have solely depended on Sakura and Shino during sparring. While not wholly unuseful, he doubted that either of them would have suggested using his sword's reflection to ensnare opponents. Though Kakashi might have if he could stand to pull his nose out of the pornography he called literature.

His no-entry rule was less because of the principle of having people enter his dead clan's property and more so because Sasuke… didn't like people. Until very recently, it was one of those things that didn't need to be said. At the most, he tolerated those in his immediate surroundings: his team, Sensei, and teachers.

Until Itachi returned to threaten them, Sasuke hadn't realised just how much he appreciated their presence in his life. And yet an overwhelming fear cribbed onto that realisation because opening the gate meant eliminating the distance between himself and everyone else. In his bones, he knew Itachi possessed the power to hurt him just as much—if not worse than that night half a decade ago.

For many years, he was like a blind man, fumbling in the dark. Kakashi was a disappointing teacher who was more concerned with improving Sasuke as a person rather than a shinobi. Sasuke wasn't a fool; even he could see how thoroughly disturbed his teacher was and somewhat appreciated the sentiment.

What he needed, however, was power. The power to put down Itachi. Only when his clan rested easy in their graves could he begin to live his life. Until then, he lived only to right a wrong. And yet, ironically, in that need being fulfilled through Naruto, he ended up opening the gate and allowing people in any way—and so soon after that disastrous C-rank at that.

The reconstruction of the jetty fell, almost conspicuously, at the time of Sasuke's meeting with the ANBU's so-called master. The offered scroll—which he'd kept in a drawer in his bedroom—gave no insight into their identity. Simply, the invitation was signed, 'A Servant of the Leaf', as the ANBU introduced themselves right before they apprehended Gaara of the Sand.

If it were an ANBU recruitment request, surely he would have received it through a more appropriate channel.

Besides vague compliments of his skill and temperament, there was the location of the meeting where he'd likely discover this so-called servant's identity. While somewhat curious, Sasuke felt tempted to turn around and spend his evening occupying himself with a more productive activity, like preparing his meals for the week. Deep down, though, he knew that the mere rumour of an ANBU recruitment was worth pursuing, even if it led to nothing in the end.

Sasuke found the restaurant tucked away in a quiet corner near the eastern gate, far removed from the bustling markets and vibrant lanterns that lit the main streets. The eastern gate was meant for merchants and their wares to enter, and the surrounding area was a place for high-end restaurants and quaint, private clubs. The restaurant's understated exterior bore no name, only the clean lines of polished wood and a single paper lantern swaying faintly in the night breeze.

When Sasuke pushed the door open, the faint chime of bells sounded like an afterthought. Inside, the silence was stifling. The restaurant's pristine interior featured low tables on polished floors, separated by delicate silk partitions painted with serene mountain landscapes. A subtle scent of jasmine tea and cedar lingered in the air, but there were no other patrons. Only a single table in the back was occupied, where a man sat with his hands folded neatly before him.

Sasuke recognised him at once. The bandages covering his right eye, the sharp, hawk-like features, the composed yet authoritative bearing—all unmistakable. He'd seen this man before, at the Third Hokage's funeral. His stiff, formal words at the time had grated on Naruto, though Sasuke had paid little attention to him beyond that. He didn't know the man's name, but the aura he exuded was undeniably of someone used to authority.

"Sasuke Uchiha," the man greeted, his voice like the sharp whisper of steel against stone. He gestured to the seat opposite him. "Please, sit."

Sasuke hesitated, his dark eyes flicking towards the exits and taking in the layout of the room. The situation set his teeth on edge—ambiguous terms, an empty restaurant, a man he didn't trust—but his curiosity won out. Cautiously, he approached the table and lowered himself into the offered seat.

The man regarded him for a long moment, his visible eye sharp, calculating. Then, with an air of detached grace, he reached for the teapot on the table and poured tea into two delicate porcelain cups. The gentle sound of the liquid filling the cups seemed louder than it should in the silence.

"Do you know who I am?" the man asked.

"No," Sasuke replied.

"I am Shimura Danzo," the man said, sliding one of the cups towards Sasuke. "I serve the Leaf in ways that are… less visible than others. For many decades, I was Hiruzen's shadow. Then, I retired and was an elder and part of his counsel. And I have taken an interest in you, young man." Danzo's single eye seemed to bore into Sasuke, as though weighing every breath, every muscle movement, on an invisible scale. "You've displayed remarkable skill and resolve during the recent defence of the village against the Hidden Sand and Sound. Know that your actions did not go unnoticed."

Sasuke remained silent and kept his face impassive. He didn't trust this man outright just because of some praise—but he also didn't trust himself to speak yet. His instincts told him there was more to come.

"You've been overlooked," Danzo continued. "Kakashi, while capable, does not comprehend the true depth of your potential. He holds you back."

Truth aside, Sasuke gave no outward reaction beyond a subtle tightening of his jaw. Kakashi's laid-back demeanour, his insistence on teamwork exercises, his refusal to push Sasuke—it all grated against him.

"And then there's the Curse Mark," Danzo said, his voice turning contemplative.

Sasuke's expression faltered for a fraction of a second. "You know about it?"

Danzo's only response was the faintest upward tilt of his lips, a non-answer that somehow spoke volumes. "Orochimaru leaves his marks on many things—few of which escape my notice."

Sasuke's fists tightened beneath the table. "It's a leash," he said, his tone biting. "A way for him to control me. I don't need it."

"Perhaps." Danzo inclined his head slightly, his gaze unperturbed by Sasuke's venom. "But its existence is... significant. Rarely does Orochimaru act without purpose. To dismiss the mark outright is to ignore the potential threat—or opportunity—it represents."

Sasuke's gaze hardened. "Opportunity? It's a curse."

Danzo met his glare evenly as if weighing his response. "True. And yet, even curses hold power. The question is: who wields it? Orochimaru? Or you?" He let the words hang, his tone carefully neutral, neither encouragement nor warning.

Sasuke's eyes narrowed, the unspoken challenge in Danzo's statement settling uncomfortably in his mind. "What are you getting at?"

Danzo's expression betrayed nothing. "Simply that understanding the nature of a weapon—any weapon—can make all the difference between being controlled by it and controlling it yourself. A lesson worth considering, don't you think?"

For a moment, Sasuke said nothing, his sharp gaze studying the man across from him. Danzo, however, simply leaned back, his hands folding neatly in his lap as if to show he had no further intentions to press the matter.

The silence between them was taut, but Danzo offered no further elaboration.

Danzo's faint smile remained, but he didn't answer directly. Instead, he shifted forward, clasping his hands together on the table. "You desire power. True power. And out of selflessness, at that. To restore the honour of your clan and bring justice to the man who wronged them. Am I wrong?"

His eyes narrowed, but Sasuke didn't trust himself to speak without offending the old man.

Danzo smiled faintly, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. "I am here to offer you an opportunity. You've proven yourself capable of operating at a level far beyond most genin. Your promotion to chunin is not a question, but I'm here to offer more than a bump in pay and a flak jacket."

Sasuke's heart beat faster. "And what's the catch?"

"No catch, my boy," Danzo replied. "Only an invitation. I oversee a division within the ANBU. ROOT, it is called. Unlike the standard ANBU, we operate in the shadows, ensuring the stability of the village through decisive, often unacknowledged action. Your skills would be a valuable asset." He paused, letting the offer sink in before continuing. "In ROOT, you will find the training you need to achieve your goals. I can offer techniques and resources that Kakashi cannot. And you will do so while serving the village, protecting its interests from threats within and beyond—one of which I'm sure you are intimately aware of."

Sasuke stared at him, his mind racing. The promise of advancement, of training tailored to his needs, was tempting. And yet… something about Danzo felt off. His words were too measured, too calculated, as though he already knew what Sasuke would say.

"And if I refuse?" Sasuke asked.

Danzo drank from his cup first. "Then nothing changes. You remain where you are, under Kakashi's care. But know this: the window of opportunity does not stay open forever. The world is moving, Sasuke. Your enemies are not waiting for you to catch up."

Silence fell between them. Sasuke stared into the man's single visible eye, searching for any hint of deception, but only met a frustratingly impenetrable wall. He didn't trust him, but he couldn't deny the truth in his words. Their entire conversation had been about what Sasuke stood to gain. Yet he wondered what Shimura Danzo stood to gain from this.

Danzo reached into his robe and produced a small scroll, sliding it across the table. "Take this. It contains the details of our next meeting, should you choose to accept. The decision is yours. Of course, mentioning this to anyone at all will void this invitation."

Sasuke hesitated for only a moment before taking the scroll. He rose from the table, slipping the parchment into his pocket without looking at it.

"I'll think about it," he said, turning toward the exit.

"Do not think too long," Danzo called after him.

Sasuke stepped into the cool night air, the scroll feeling heavier than it should in his pocket. His mind raced with questions and doubts, but one thing was certain: this meeting had opened a door he hadn't expected.

Whether he would step through was a question he didn't want to answer immediately.

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Tsunade shoved the swinging doors of the pub open, stepping out into the chilly night. The air smelled of wet stone and street food, a stark contrast to the stifling warmth and booze-soaked chatter inside. She rolled her shoulders, feeling the tightness in her muscles from more than just annoyance.

Naruto followed her out, his expression as measured as his steps. The fire in his blue eyes hadn't dimmed, but it was contained now, banked. It wasn't what she'd expected. Most brats his age would still be posturing, running their mouths about how they'd take her down in one. Instead, he moved with the caution of someone who'd been in a fight or two—someone who understood what was coming.

"Woah, woah!" Jiraiya called out behind them. "Are you guys seriously going to throw down in a town full of people? Not to mention the fact that anyone could be watching and you two will let them see your techniques for what, a cash prize?"

And so a few minutes later, they stood in a clearing five minutes out from Tanzaku Town and away from prying eyes.

"Alright, kid, land three hits and you win," she said, her voice cutting through the quiet. "Let's see what you've got. Or are you all bark and no bite?"

"Fine by me, you hag," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in what might've been a smirk. Naruto stopped a few paces away, his hands resting lightly on the hilts of his trench knives. His stance was loose and adaptable, but his eyes remained locked on her. "You're making a lot of assumptions about me, but humour me, what'll you do when I win?"

The thrum of anger pulsed in her head, and for a moment, her fingers twitched with the urge to send him flying then and there. But no. She'd enjoy this properly. "Lose?" she repeated. "To a loudmouth brat who barely knows how to hold a kunai? Don't flatter yourself."

Tsunade's fingers brushed the pendant around her neck—a piece of her past, something far more valuable than any mere object. She had worn it as a reminder of her heritage, of her family's legacy—and of her misfortune—but tonight, it… would serve as a wager.

She twisted the necklace between her fingers, letting it dangle as she looked him over. "Alright, kid, here's the deal: if you win, I'll give you this necklace. If you lose… I'll take all the money you and Jiraiya have got."

Shizune's gasp from the edge of the street reached her eyes all too loudly. Beside her, Jiraiya raised an eyebrow. Naruto's eyes flickered toward the pendant. Tsunade noted the brief glint of interest in his gaze. He wasn't stupid and knew it was worth far more than any single person should ever possess. A part of her almost felt guilty offering it to him, but she quickly pushed the thought aside.

She dropped her hand back to her side, her smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "If you win, it's yours. But don't get your hopes up, kid. I'm not in the business of losing."

"Yeah? Then you'd better not hold back." His voice sharpened as he brandished his weapons. "Because I'm not going to."

She raised an eyebrow at his boldness, stepping forward and cracking her knuckles. "Oh, don't worry. I'm one of the Legendary Sannin, boyo."

The moment the last word left her lips, he was moving. Naruto darted forward, faster than she'd expected, and the sudden burst of speed forced her to shift on instinct. He closed the distance in an instant, trench knives drawn, their edges glowing faintly with chakra.

The burst of speed caught her off guard; one moment, he was standing still, and the next, he was upon her. His trench knives glinted in the light, their edges humming faintly with wind chakra. The first blow struck clean, the flat of his blade catching her forearm as she barely brought it up in time to block. Chakra jolted through her arm, and her boots scraped against the dirt as she regained her footing.

"That's one," Naruto muttered.

Tsunade's eyes narrowed. That shouldn't have landed. If he hadn't twisted his grip to use the flat of the blade, she would have lost her hand on the spot. She tightened her stance, ignoring the sting in her arm as she reset. "Alright, kid," she said, "I'll admit—I underestimated you. Won't happen again."

He didn't respond and was on her again in a flash. Tsunade's eyes narrowed as she blocked another swipe, the impact of the chakra-enhanced blade sending a sharp vibration up her arm.

But she wasn't about to let some kid with fancy knives show her up.

She lashed out, her fist grazing his shoulder as he ducked under her swing, but it was enough to send him stumbling. Not for long, though. He recovered quickly, dropping low and slamming his foot into the ground. The resulting shockwave kicked up a cloud of dirt and dust, obscuring her vision for a split second.

She stepped forward, her foot striking the ground with enough force to send the dust flying outward, clearing her view. Naruto was already mid-air, his trench knives raised for a downward strike. Tsunade met him head-on, her fist slamming into the flat of one blade with enough force to send him flying back. He landed hard but rolled to his feet, skidding to a stop a few yards away.

"You've got some nerve," she said, brushing a speck of dirt off her coat. "But you're not going to win by throwing yourself at me like that."

Naruto smirked, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I've only got two more strikes to land."

Before she could respond, he threw one of his trench knives. She slipped her finger into its hand, tossing it back. The weapon embedded itself into the ground between them, and at the same moment, he dashed toward her, his remaining knife glowing brighter with wind chakra.

Tsunade rushed to stop him from regaining his weapon—at least to teach him not to discard it so easily—but her eyes widened when she noticed the chakra string connecting Naruto and the knife. The string ballooned until a wave of chakra raced towards the knife. Tsunade moved to intercept, but a burst of wind exploded from the knife on the ground, sending a wave of debris hurtling toward her.

It wasn't enough to injure, but it threw off her footing, and in that split second, Naruto was on her. His remaining blade came in fast, aiming for her side, but she caught his wrist, twisting it hard enough to make him drop the knife. Her other hand shot out, aiming for his chest, but he shifted his weight, using her grip on his wrist as leverage to swing himself upward. His foot connected with her shoulder, and she felt the impact reverberate through her body.

She staggered, loosening her grip just enough for him to break free and roll back to safety. Haphazard as it was, the boy was using chakra enhancement—and not just overloading chakra repulsion. Tsunade could feel the whorls in the chakra as it raged through her body. 

As shoddy as it was, the technique was clearly using rotation to enhance its strength. Still, it wasn't enough to put her down in the slightest. Naruto's fingers twitched as he noted the presence of several people watching. At least he wasn't moronic enough to use ninjutsu in a populated area.

"That's two," he said, resetting his stance now that he was bereft of weapons. He looked over at Jiraiya. "Jiraiya, if this is the state your teammate's in, then I reckon I'll beat you by the year's end."

Ever willing to play the clown, Jiraiya laughed, loud and boisterous. "Evidently! Tsunade, you'd better stop messing about. The way this is going, he'll end up knocking you to the floor next."

She ignored him, her attention fully on Naruto. Reaching into her belt, she retrieved the trench knife he'd dropped. Extending a chakra string of her own to pull the other one from the ground, catching it mid-air, and the slight twitch in his expression didn't go unnoticed.

"Not bad, brat," she admitted, twirling the knives. "But if you think you're the only one who knows how to use these, you're sorely mistaken. You must've got them from Asuma… I wonder how that brat's doing these days. Remember seeing his bounty in the bingo book a while back. Thirty-five million, was it?"

Naruto's stance shifted, his hands flexing at his sides as he prepared for her next move. He wasn't beaten yet—not even close—but Tsunade could see that all this while, he wasn't just testing his skills: he was testing how far he could push her. The audacity in his eyes… that he thought he could beat her was almost enough to make her laugh.

Yet for the first time in a long while, she felt a flicker of excitement. As much as she loathed a shinobi's life, Tsunade missed being able to fight.

"Let's see what else you've got," she said, her grin widening.

Her knuckles tightened around the trench knives, careful not to break them. Chakra sharpened their edges with perfect efficiency as she closed the gap between them. And while Naruto was quick, she was faster. Her first strike came in a swift, deliberate arc, driving him back.

Step by step, she forced him into a defensive rhythm. Each time her blade swept towards his torso or legs, he twisted out of reach, sometimes narrowly enough that the steel grazed his dark long-sleeve. The faint sting against her pride was enough for her to keep using the two knives. He was predicting her movements—not perfectly, but enough to keep himself in the fight.

She struck low, aiming for his calf, only to feint at the last second. Her second knife slashed horizontally toward his midsection, but instead of dodging, he pivoted on his back foot and struck out with an open palm, pushing her wrist aside with overloaded chakra adhesion just in time.

Her frustration only deepened when she caught the flicker of defiance in his eyes.

"Stop playing tag and throw something, you brat!" She kicked at his shin. He jumped back, avoiding the blow, but the force of her descending foot cracked the dirt and cut a jagged path to destroy his balance.

"You're telling me," he replied, grinning through the exertion. His breathing was heavier now, sweat streaking his temples, but he didn't waver. "Aren't you the one who's holding back?"

The fact that he had the gall to ask such a question at all ignited all the frustration she'd been swallowing since the spar began. Tsunade didn't bother with a retort; words wouldn't wipe that smirk off his face—but her fists would.

She dropped the knives. The clang of metal on stone echoed through the clearing as she surged forward, her speed doubling. The chakra lacing her already monstrous body made her movements blur, but she could see it in his expression—he wasn't going to run. His legs bent, his arms rose, and his stance screamed readiness.

Her fist came down like a hammer, a blow meant to end this before his stamina gave out. She'd put him in the dirt now—no more toying around. His eyes widened as she drove her fist toward him. He couldn't block this one, nor would he have time to dodge, and for a split second, she thought she'd already won.

Then, she saw it.

Chakra surged in his hands, twisting and spinning with raw, chaotic power. A sudden whine filled the air, high-pitched and piercing, as a swirling yet perfectly uniform orb of chakra materialised in his palm.

Her eyes widened. "That jutsu is—!"

Naruto thrust it upward in a desperate counter, and their attacks collided.

The world detonated as the Rasengan's energy spiralled outward, meeting her chakra-powered fist in a cataclysmic clash. The shockwave slammed into her chest, sending her skidding back. Her feet gouged furrows into the ground as she fought to remain upright. Naruto, meanwhile, was blasted away, tumbling end over end before crashing into a crater of his own making.

Tsunade staggered, the adrenaline masking the full extent of what had just happened. She tried to flex her hand, but something felt… wrong.

Shizune's cry was enough to confirm the sensation. "L-Lady Tsunade!"

Looking down, her breath caught in her throat.

Her right hand was destroyed.

Flesh dangled in bloodied strips, the bones beneath twisted and shattered beyond recognition. Ligaments hung by threads, her fingers limp and unresponsive. Her chest tightened, a faint nausea rising in her stomach at the sight of her once-pristine hand reduced to mangled meat.

And the red, crimson sheen of blood.

"Damn it," she muttered through clenched teeth, cradling the injured limb and hoping that he wouldn't capitalise on her hemophobia. The pain came rushing in now, sharp and unrelenting.

Blood dripped steadily onto the cracked ground. Her eyes caught on each drop splattering against the earth—she could smell it now and just barely tore her gaze away. In the distance, Naruto dragged himself upright, his jacket torn and his face smeared with dirt. He clutched his ribs with one hand, his other still glowing faintly with residual chakra. Despite the obvious pain in his movements, he dared to grin at her.

Tsunade chewed the inside of her cheek to stop herself from flinching at the gore all over the front of his jacket.

"G-Guess… you're not unbeatable after all." He wheezed, leaning heavily on a chunk of stone for support.

Her anger flared, but an undefinable sensation cut through it. She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Brat," she muttered.

Jiraiya's laugh broke the silence, loud and obnoxious as always. "There you go!" he crowed, clapping his hands together. "Well done! Now that's my… fellow student? Shizune, what do I call a fellow student of a different generation? I'm sure there's a word for it."

"Will you shut up, Jiraiya, he mangled my fucking arm!" Tsunade growled, though her tone lacked real venom. Shizune could treat it… with some instruction from her end. Not as quickly as she'd be able to herself, but Tsunade had a week to heal and figure out whether she'd bank on Orochimaru's traitorous hide… for the chance to see them again.

Her attention drifted back to Naruto, who was still smirking despite the clear exhaustion on his face. She sighed, glancing at her ruined hand.

"Alright, kid," she said finally, "You win, but don't think for a second that means you're stronger than me."

Naruto still had the energy to form a strange hand sign with his middle finger before slumping to the ground.

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— — —

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When I woke up, Tsunade was gone and so was Jiraiya. It was late enough that I could hear crickets chirping, and drafts of chilling night-time wind slipped through the gap in the open window. I checked myself over for any odd sensations first but came back with nothing. Even though I'd smashed my head pretty badly, I didn't wake up with a headache.

Nine-Tails healing, I supposed, but the thought only made my lips twist in displeasure. Just because I might've been wrong about the guy being a total monster, didn't mean I had to think well of him. He'd admitted his ongoing plot to take over my body, after all. And the worst part of it was that there was nothing I could do about it.

I felt rage, loss, and any negatively-tinged emotion just as much as anyone else, after all, and that was the Tailed Beast's home ground.

Sitting up, I went to close the window. Personally speaking, I didn't buy into the whole cursed necklace thing. The only basis for it was Tsunade and Shizune's grief at the two people who touched it dying not long afterwards.

The mention of the old woman had me gritting my jaw before I knew it. That woman had revived a side of myself I thought was on life-support. Back when I was a child, profanity and insults had been my way to stick it to the villagers, but once I gained jutsu, making myself a hell of a shinobi replaced that coping mechanism.

But listening to the things she said had pissed me off enough to loosen my tongue.

Lord Third and I weren't close enough for me to hate another person over him. As grim as it sounded, where he and I were concerned, the bad outweighed the good—though the good was far more recent, and to me, more meaningful.

My grief over his death was partly guilt over not being able to kill Kabuto alone, thus forcing my resurrected mother to abandon him to fight Orochimaru and the two resurrected Hokage. But the other side to it was mourning the potential of what I honestly believed would be one of the most fulfilling relationships I'd ever have in this world. The month spent under Lord Third's tutelage was indescribable; each time we met, I returned with a laundry list of ideas.

Being around him outside of his office humanised him because when we met, he wore something other than those white and red robes that I'd grown to hate so much. No, my dislike of Tsunade was because she willingly spat on the life of the same man who trained her, damn near raised her, and let her waste her life without a word against her.

And sure, part of it was because I'd grown to respect Hiruzen Sarutobi, but she'd known him far longer than I had—she possessed countless good memories of him and still chose to spit on his death. Even when I suggested he recall her and Jiraiya to fight against Orochimaru, Lord Third let her be.

Taking a deep breath, I unclenched my fists and slung my brown jacket over my shoulders—which was when somebody knocked on my door. Shizune stood at its threshold, a bone-deep exhaustion on her face.

Her shoulders were hunched, and she barely looked up to meet my eyes. "I'm… sorry to bother you so late, Naruto. Can we… talk?

I stepped aside to let her in, gesturing at my bed. "The other one's Jiraiya's. Not sure you want to be sitting on it."

She gave a weak laugh at the joke. I sat across from her. "So?" I asked, waiting for her to look up. "What did you want to talk about?"

"...Again, I'm sorry for disturbing you at this hour." She bowed her head and stared into her lap instead. "I-I just didn't want you to misunderstand Lady Tsunade, is all."

"Let me just say that I won't judge you as I judge her. While you might be in her company, you are not your master. What she chooses to spend her life doing isn't my business, but I couldn't let the way she disrespected Sarutobi-sensei go unchallenged—"

"She wasn't always that way!"

I stopped, surprised at how quickly her reprimand came but also at its volume. She seemed to notice that herself, cringing.

"...I'm sorry for yelling. I've been healing Lady Tsunade for the past three hours and she's still not fully healed."

"How's the arm?" I asked, grudgingly regretful at using the Rasengan.

I'd thought she could take it—but that kind of damage stood a good chance of taking her arm. She could probably heal it using Mitotic Regeneration if the odds were slim with regular Medical Ninjutsu, but in that case, I might have just shortened her lifespan.

That said, I didn't regret challenging her. No, I didn't even regret using the Rasengan. Wasn't it her fault for underestimating me for the third time in a row?

"...Not good, but she'll make a full recovery given time."

I leaned back. "So, you were saying?"

Shizune exhaled, long and slow, like the words she wanted to say were slipping out with her breath. Her hands trembled slightly where they rested on her lap, but she stilled them by pressing her palms together, fingertips digging into one another. "Lady Tsunade… she wasn't always like this. She wasn't always someone you could hate so easily."

I didn't reply. I wasn't sure I could, not without making her cry—she looked exhausted enough to—or getting into another argument I didn't care to finish.

"Back then, she… she believed in the Will of Fire more than anyone I've ever met. She didn't just follow it; she lived it. Every mission, every patient, every life she saved—it was like she carried the entire village in her hands and knew it was fragile. But when you lose as much as she has…" Shizune's voice broke. She looked away, swallowing hard. "It changes you."

The thing was, I didn't disagree with her. Not entirely. People broke under grief all the time, like cracked pots that couldn't hold water anymore. I'd seen it happen, even felt its pull myself. But there was a difference between being broken and choosing to stay that way. And when a person knew the things I did, staying that way just wasn't a luxury I could afford.

The Akatsuki would come to take my life whether I chose to bury my head in the sand, be angry with the village, or wallow in regret over Lord Third's death or not.

A long silence stretched between us, broken only by the distant chirping of crickets.

"I'm not saying I don't understand. Grief… it's terrible." I leaned forward, elbows resting on my knees. "But she loses her brother, her lover, and gets a free pass to drink herself stupid? What's your point here?"

"She didn't just lose them, Naruto." Shizune looked at me sharply, her dark eyes fierce despite the exhaustion weighing her gaze down. "She lost faith. Not just in herself, but in everything. The village, the shinobi system, the ideals she used to hold dear—all of it." Her voice softened, almost pleading now. "And when that happens, what's left? What do you live for?"

I snorted, leaning back. "Seems like she found something—gambling and drowning her sorrows. A real noble cause, that."

"She's not perfect!" Shizune's voice snapped at me before she caught herself. Her hands curled into fists in her lap as she took a breath. "But she's not a monster either. You don't have to forgive her for the things she said, but you should at least try to understand where they came from—Lady Tsunade loved Lord Third."

"Understand what?" I asked, meeting her gaze evenly. "That she ran away from everything and everyone who could've reminded her of what she lost? That she spat on Sarutobi-sensei's memory because she couldn't deal with it? Do you think I curse my father's name for sealing the Nine-Tails in me?" My tone came out harsher than I intended, but I didn't care. "She doesn't get to play the victim and pretend she's the only one who's ever suffered. Not when people like you are out here cleaning up after her, still believing she's worth it."

Shizune flinched, but to her credit, she didn't look away. Her jaw set, her shoulders straightened, and for the first time, I could see a bit of steel in her that reminded me she wasn't just Tsunade's assistant—she was a shinobi, too.

"She is worth it," she said quietly, but firmly. "And one day, I hope you'll see that."

The conviction in her voice gave me pause, but I pushed it aside. "She could be—but not as she is today. Why do you care about what I think of her anyway?"

Shizune let out a soft sigh, her shoulders slumping again. She looked like she wanted to say more but couldn't find the words—or maybe she knew it wouldn't make a difference.

"But thanks for telling me your side," I said finally, standing up. "It doesn't change a thing between me and her, though. Change comes from within, and nothing either of us say or do will make a difference."

Shizune nodded slowly, standing as well. "I didn't come here to change your mind. I just… I wanted you to know the person she used to be. The person I still see, even if no one else does."

I didn't respond. What was there to say?

As she walked to the door, she paused and looked back at me, her hand resting on the frame. "Naruto, you seem a sweet child, but are you sure I can't change your mind on that necklace? My uncle… he—"

I shrugged, noncommittal. "Maybe I'll die. But if I live every day shouldering that risk. I don't think a single trinket will tip the scales all that much."

She hesitated for a moment longer before stepping out and closing the door behind her.

The room felt heavier without her in it. Honestly, the only reason I wanted the damn necklace was to keep the Nine-Tails in check. It probably wouldn't help if I really went off the rails, but the First Hokage's necklace was better than nothing.

The crickets outside kept chirping, oblivious to the unresolved tension that still lingered in the air. Sure, we'd fought, but Tsunade and I hadn't spoken at all about any of the bullshit she'd spewed in the pub.

"A chance, huh?" I muttered to myself.

I knew she was capable of change, and she had the potential to be a great leader, but I wasn't the positivity generator that canon Naruto was. And with Danzo doing who-knows-what back in the village, I wasn't sure Tsunade would find it easy to become Hokage given the way she'd spent her years.

But stranger things could happen.

With about a week left until Orochimaru came knocking to get his arms back, maybe I could see what kind of person she was for myself.

…If I could stand to be in her presence, that was.