They talked for a long while, circling the sa subject. Ryusei asked carefully asured questions, probing at the specifics of each technique.
Not in the tone of a greedy child demanding secrets, but with the poise of soone already laying out the steps in his mind with certainty and confidence.
Tsunade's explanations ca with pride at first.
She puffed herself up, lecturing him like a teacher speaking to a pupil, her tone haughty.
She reminded him that each of the three demanded years of preparation.
That chakra-enhanced strength ant understanding muscle fiber by fiber, how far they could be pushed safely, and connecting with them in real ti.
That the Yin Seal was as much fuinjutsu as it was dicine, requiring endless patience and control.
That Creation Rebirth was not a jutsu one "trained", it was a philosophy, a gamble with life itself, one most people would never dare to learn.
But with every sharp word, with every teasing jab, Ryusei stayed calm, listening, filing away her lessons with an intensity she couldn't miss.
And beneath her bluster, her pride only swelled.
For the first ti in decades, soone actually listened, soone who wasn't trying to imitate her superficially, but who might truly carry the torch forward.
Ryusei, anwhile, had his own thoughts ticking away.
If that plan succeeded, he would have months at her side, like this, hidden under her shadow, untouchable by Root or any elder's sches.
Months were all he needed.
Just enough to grasp the essence of her teachings, to carve them into mory.
After that, even if he left her side to pursue his wider goals next, as he planned, he would have the foundations to build on for the rest of his life.
He masked those calculations with a faintly reluctant tone, as if forced into humility.
"Then I'll take what I can. Even if I can't master them yet, if I can just learn the steps… the rest I'll grind out myself, even if it takes years."
Tsunade's eyes lingered on him, seeing the pride, the stubborn fire, and for a mont, her usual mocking smirk faltered.
She clicked her tongue and looked away, as if annoyed, but the truth was sothing else entirely.
"Fine," she muttered. "But don't think you'll get far on your own. You'll need longer than you think."
Ryusei only let a small grin curl on the inside, his face the perfect mask of reluctant acceptance. "We'll see."
Tsunade finally crossed her arms, leaning back slightly as they moved through the trees.
"I'll put it together for you later. My personal notes on all three. And when I get the ti, I'll even write you the first practice steps, and then a complete plan."
She said it with her usual proud lift of the chin, as if handing down divine scripture, but Ryusei caught the flicker beneath the surface.
It wasn't just a teacher lecturing a student.
There was a softness there, a willingness to invest herself in him, piece by piece.
He let his gaze slide toward her, his slit-eyed mask easing just slightly.
"Then I won't waste it. I won't disappoint you. I won't let my clan's talent rot away."
His tone was calm, but with just enough weight to sound earnest.
Tsunade gave a sharp "hmph," pretending as if she didn't care either way, eyes fixed forward.
But Ryusei's senses didn't lie. Her chakra aura flickered just the tiniest bit brighter than before, as if so hidden corner of her was… pleased. And it even stayed like that after.
He exhaled softly, shaking his head inwardly. 'Soft heart, hard tongue,' he thought, amused. 'No wonder Father couldn't handle her.'
Ryusei knew well how naturally lazy she was, and how the war left her with little ti to spare. For her to offer this on her own ant sothing.
It showed she truly saw him differently now, and that, piece by piece, she was shifting away from the indulgent, coping shell she had lived in for years.
As if to prove he could read the future, she let out a long stretch, arms lifting, voice coming out teasing yet tinged with weariness.
"What a drag you are," she said, almost complaining, almost lazy, as though she were pouring her thoughts carelessly into the air.
"It's not enough that I'm the main healer drowning in an ocean of casualties every day; now I have to train another insolent brat on top of it."
Her words might have sounded like bla, but they weren't.
The tone was lighter, as if she had forgotten to keep her walls up.
She spoke as though they'd known each other for years already, defenseless, relaxed, her sleeveless arms stretching openly, her presence leaning closer without her realizing.
Ryusei didn't let the fire that rose in his chest betray him. Puberty might have been rciless, but his discipline was iron. His voice ca out proud, steady.
"I won't just sit around doing nothing," he said. "If you need it, I can help you with the wounded or even with logistics. Don't think I'll just be another burden."
Tsunade clicked her tongue, rolling her eyes in her usual style. "Tch. Big words for a kid."
She made it sound dismissive, as though he were still beneath her notice.
But inside, a faint warmth stirred.
No one had noticed how deeply tired she was, not since this war began.
No one had looked past the legend, the Sannin, to see the weight she carried.
And no one had ever offered to share that burden so directly, so sincerely.
The thought lingered despite herself.
He wasn't just capable; he might already have the potential to be the second-best healer in the division, maybe in the whole army, second only to her.
With a bit of polish, with ti, he could lighten her load in ways nobody else around could.
After all, even if her faith in the village had shattered piece by piece, her morals would never let her ignore the wounded.
This was still her birthplace, the village her grandfather built with his own hands. Her parents and brother had given their lives for it.
If she had the power to save lives here, then she would never slack in that duty, no matter how much she despised the current leadership.
In her mind, the villagers, the ordinary people, the ones with no say in the sches of the elders, bore no guilt.
"Just when will this war end…" Tsunade suddenly muttered under her breath.
Her voice was low, tired, almost too soft for anyone else to catch. But Ryusei heard it clearly.
He didn't soften his gaze. He didn't reach for so comforting words like most would.
Instead, he cut clean through.
"It won't," he said flatly. "Wars don't end. They only pause until everyone collapses from exhaustion. Then they start again as soon as strength returns. That's human nature. You can already see it now, can't you? Barely five years after the last one, here we are again."
Her eyes flicked toward him, widening just slightly.
"The only reason your grandfather could make people shut up about it," Ryusei continued, voice even, "was because he wasn't just a man, he was a walking calamity, to be honest. As long as he lived, holding the strength of natural disasters in his hands, no one dared whisper about war. But the mont he was gone, his passionate speeches and grand visions ant nothing anymore. Ideals don't hold back armies. Only power does."
Tsunade's breath hitched.
She clenched her fists, her brows furrowing, but she didn't lash out.
Ryusei's slit-eyed gaze stayed on her, calm and rciless. "So, unless you or I reach that level of strength, the most we can do is protect ourselves. Anything else is just empty talk."
Silence hung for a mont. Tsunade's lips parted, but no words ca. His bluntness pierced sharper than any enemy blade.
Externally, she scoffed, forcing out a shaky "Hmph… brat." She tried to make it sound like dismissal, like he was being too cynical. But her tone lacked weight.
Internally, though, his words dug in. She hated hearing her grandfather spoken of that way, yet part of her couldn't deny the truth.
She had seen it with her own eyes, the wars that followed, the countless corpses, children mobilised, unlike what he vowed to prevent in the future, in the first place, by creating the hidden village system.
Instead, he created an even more destructive and institutionalized kind of massive global wars. The way the Will of Fire had rung hollow against the screams of the dying.
She told herself she should be angry, should slap him for daring to speak so coldly. But deep inside, sothing else twisted. A grim acknowledgnt, a dark seed taking root.
'He's right. Hashirama's dream didn't survive him. And unless I… unless we reach that kind of power, we're just waiting for the next wave to drown us.'
Her chest tightened. For years, she had run from that thought. Now, a thirteen-year-old boy said it out loud, without hesitation. And for the first ti, she found herself unable to deny it.
Yet she realized this was his way of answering her earlier concern, his own blunt version of telling her not to worry.
In his eyes, there was probably no point in fretting over outcos beyond their reach.
The only thing worth doing was protecting what they could.
"Ourselves…"
The word lingered in her mind longer than she expected.
Why am I already grouping him with ?
Tsunade felt a strange feeling in her chest, one she couldn't quite place.
Ryusei, anwhile, understood perfectly well that this wasn't how anyone would usually console a woman.
Instead of soft words, he had given her a cold lesson, stripped of comfort, and even dragged her grandfather's na into it without hesitation.
But that was deliberate. His goal was never to coddle her or rush things.
It was to shift her piece by piece, to darken her just enough, breaking down the illusions she still clung to, reshaping her values until she beca entirely useful when the ti ca.
Tsunade remained in silence for a long mont after his words.
Externally, she only clicked her tongue and gave a sharp exhale, again, as if annoyed by his bluntness. Yet her eyes lingered on him differently now, a faint storm behind them.
'He really dares to speak like that in front of … in front of Hashirama's granddaughter,' she thought bitterly, though the bitterness wasn't aid at him.
Still, she wasn't ready to surrender openly.
So she muttered, almost scoffing, "Tch. You've got a twisted tongue for soone so young."
But in her chest, sothing shifted.
His words refused to leave her for a while, even as she tried to mask the sting with irritation.
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