CHAPTER 19

Although he didn't know why his sister Tsunade had suddenly taken on such a terrifying expression…

From years of "survival experience," Nawaki understood one truth: when Tsunade wore that smile, someone was about to suffer.

And that someone was probably him.

So the best course of action now was—

Run.

Because once Tsunade decided to step on you, she didn't just trample your pride—she made sure your soul remembered it.

Especially in front of all his classmates? No thanks. Nawaki had no intention of becoming the school's walking punchline.

"R-Really? Ahaha… Sis, I think the cold's gone now! No need to trouble you—you're busy treating someone else, right?!" Nawaki crouched slightly, preparing to bolt.

"Wait. Who said you could leave?" Tsunade's hand shot out and grabbed the back of Nawaki's collar like a hawk snatching prey. He dangled helplessly like a caught chicken.

Had he looked more carefully, he would've noticed that while Tsunade's smile was dazzling… a shadow of doom loomed behind it.

"Yeah, I definitely saw Rope Tree coughing earlier!" Tatsumi chimed in helpfully. "And May's cold snap is no joke. For the health of the entire village, I strongly urge Tsunade-sama to take quick and decisive medical measures!"

Just moments ago, he'd been mocking Tsunade's claim of a "May cold front," but now that Nawaki was in the blast zone? He was all in.

Before Nawaki could shoot him a glare, Tatsumi casually turned his head and pretended to admire the ceiling.

Tsunade nodded thoughtfully, her terrifying smile widening. "You see, my foolish otouto? Even your classmates agree. Your illness is clearly very serious."

"You sold me out, Tatsumi! Just wait!" Nawaki growled, squirming as he tried to escape her grip.

Eye contact death threat activated.

Mikoto, ever the kind-hearted one, spoke up sympathetically. "Rope Tree, maybe… just apologize? I'm sure Tsunade-sama will forgive you."

Nawaki gave her a long look.

Apologize?

If only it were that simple.

He straightened his vest with mock solemnity.

"Apologize? Hah… Mikoto, you don't get it."

A glint of understanding flashed in his eyes as he said dramatically, "The truth is, even if I apologize, even if I kneel and beg, it won't change anything!"

Tatsumi furrowed his brow. "Wait, then you really don't have a plan?"

Nawaki smirked. "Chen, that's where you're wrong. You're still thinking inside the test box."

He raised a finger like a wise sage.

"If this were a quiz, your answer would score zero points. The correct answer is: Tsunade's wrath transcends apologies."

"..."

"Alright, enough nonsense," Tsunade said cheerfully.

With a swift motion, she slapped Nawaki onto the table like a bag of flour.

"You know my summonings, right? These slugs are top-tier in medical treatment."

She gently picked up a small, squishy slug from the table.

"Summoning Technique: Katsuyu's Fragment Division."

Before he could even react, the slug shot toward Nawaki's mouth—directly.

"GAH—!"

The slimy creature squirmed down his throat as Nawaki flailed wildly.

A bitter, sour taste assaulted his tongue. His face twisted like a contortionist in pain… or was it pleasure?

"…"

Was this the legendary French gourmet experience?

"I developed this special treatment myself," Tsunade said, flicking her golden hair. "It's especially effective against stubborn brats and habitual liars."

"S-Sis… I thought this was for colds…" Nawaki groaned.

"Oh, it also treats colds. Convenient, right?"

Tsunade beamed with such innocent energy that even Tatsumi shuddered.

Nawaki tried to inch away. He'd suffered enough.

"Man… that was rough." Tatsumi, seeing Nawaki's half-dead expression, couldn't help but comment. "She really is something."

He silently moved Tsunade to his 'do-not-provoke' list.

A woman who could treat her own brother like this…

No wonder she once pulverized Jiraiya's ribs and left him half-dead.

Tatsumi didn't know her well until now.

Sure, he'd heard rumors about the Sannin—Jiraiya, Orochimaru, and Tsunade—but he'd never seen her in action.

And now?

Now he knew.

Tsunade Senju was not someone to mess with.

He turned to look at her. Sixteen years old. Long blonde hair. Konoha forehead protector. No visible Strength of a Hundred Seal yet. Her appearance was fresh and youthful…

Tall, athletic, long legs—but not quite like the busty image from the future he remembered.

Wait.

"Ah. Is it because she's still flat-chested?"

The air froze.

Tsunade's head turned slowly.

"Let me break all your fingers," she said with a chilling smile. "One by one. Neatly."

Oh no.

I said it out loud.

Tatsumi's eyes widened as the slug Tsunade held leapt toward him.

A moment later, he too was downed by a slimy, "medicinal" slug.

Standing nearby, Mikoto sighed.

"Really… what is inside Tatsumi's head?"

Tsunade patted Tatsumi's shoulder with mock sweetness.

"Come see me anytime if you need treatment, Uchiha kid. Don't be shy."

"No, I'm perfectly healthy, thank you!" Tatsumi waved both hands in front of him, shaking his head furiously.

What a joke.

This wasn't medicine—this was trauma therapy.

Next time he was hurt, he'd rather chew bark than face Tsunade's "care."