Tsunade caught the sudden shift in his tone imdiately.
It wasn't the initial proud, nor later casual, almost teasing rhythm she was used to.
It was heavier, grounded. Her eyes narrowed slightly.
And he didn't look like he just wanted to switch the topic.
Ryusei gestured subtly toward the exit flap of the tent. "Co with . Sowhere quiet."
The way he said it, steady but quiet, made her hesitate only a mont before she followed.
They walked out into the misty night, the muffled sounds of the dical camp fading behind them.
The air grew colder, the fog denser, until they reached a small ridge overlooking the dark forest.
Ryusei stopped there, hands clasped loosely behind his back, his chakra flaring faintly to set a thin barrier for privacy.
When he finally turned to her, his face seed heavier.
"What is this about?" she asked, arms crossing again. "You're being dramatic."
"You'll understand why."
He unsealed a long, narrow scroll, unraveling it slowly.
Inside, wrapped carefully in sealing paper, was a human corpse, preserved perfectly, without a trace of decay.
The chakra signature embedded in it was faint, but unmistakably Yamanaka.
Also, his hairstyle was longer and blond.
Tsunade's brow furrowed imdiately. "What the hell is this, Ryusei?"
"This," he said quietly, "is Junsaku Yamanaka. One of the highest-ranked ROOT operatives. Assassin. Mind-manipulation specialist."
Her expression darkened. "ROOT? Why are you showing this?"
Ryusei didn't answer right away. Instead, he crouched beside the body, pressing one palm to its chest.
"Because this man's chakra imprint personally connects to at least dozens of deaths directly, Senju deaths, to be exact. And one of them… was Nawaki, your younger brother. Others were from the revivalist faction, like my parents."
For a mont, Tsunade didn't move.
Didn't blink. The words seed to hang in the mist, unreal.
Her voice ca low, almost a whisper. "…That's not funny."
"It's not a joke."
She took a step forward, her tone sharper. "Nawaki died on the battlefield. I saw the reports. The terrain collapse, the explosion tag—"
"Fabrications," Ryusei cut in softly. "I thought so too. Until I examined this man's mories."
Her heartbeat spiked; Ryusei could feel it through his sensory field. He continued anyway.
"Before the war, when I was nearly killed on that Grass Country mission, he was the one who attacked . I preserved his body out of caution, hoping to find evidence against ROOT to use to try and protect myself later. Recently, I used a mory-extraction jutsu, one that touches the residual soul fragnts in the brain to explore."
He looked up at her then, his tone calm but heavy. "And I saw it. I saw him controlling Nawaki's squad through a genjutsu, clouding their senses, twisting their perception of the battlefield. Nawaki didn't die because of carelessness or bad luck; he was forced into that explosion. The genjutsu made him step right into the trap."
Tsunade's hands trembled slightly at her sides. Her lips parted, but no sound ca out.
Ryusei continued, voice quiet but relentless. "He was ROOT's perfect weapon. He could twist the minds of his own allies just long enough for their enemies to kill them, no evidence, no witnesses, erased mories, literally nothing left behind. A clean, deniable execution. And Nawaki… he was targeted because of who he was."
Her eyes snapped up. "Because of ?"
Ryusei shook his head. "Because he was the brightest Senju left. Because he talked about becoming Hokage. Because he inspired people. Because he was everything the current leadership feared, a living reminder of what the Senju once were."
Her breathing was uneven now.
She looked like she wanted to deny it, but couldn't bring the words out.
The part of her that still vaguely believed in the system, or at least that they wouldn't go that far, was cracking apart under the weight of what she was hearing.
"You're lying…" she whispered weakly. "You have to be wrong…"
"I wish I was."
He placed two fingers on her wrist, his chakra brushing gently against hers. "If you want, I can show you. You'll see it yourself."
She looked at him, eyes full of conflict, anger, disbelief, grief, and sothing rawer underneath. Slowly, she nodded.
He perford the hand signs in silence, pressing his palm to her forehead, linking her consciousness to the mory trace he'd extracted.
For a mont, the mist shimred around them, and the world fell away.
Then she saw it.
The flash of the battlefield.
Nawaki, young, fearless, his laughter cutting through the chaos as he rushed forward.
His two teammates, however, already had their voices blurred, their vision distorting, their chakra flow unraveling under unseen interference.
Among the corpses and debris, a lone figure crouched low, young Junsaku Yamanaka, his hands weaving invisible threads of chakra into their minds.
The world tilted. The tag beneath Nawaki's boot flashed red.
For a split second, his eyes cleared, dawning.
He tried to move, but his body wouldn't obey, like a puppet tugged by another's hand.
Then nothing but white heat.
When the link broke, Tsunade staggered back, gasping like she'd been subrged underwater.
Her hands clenched, trembling hard enough to draw blood from her palms.
"…No…"
Her voice cracked, choked with sothing halfway between a sob and a growl.
"They killed him. Those bastards killed him…"
Ryusei said nothing.
He just stood there, silent, letting her rage burn its way out.
She sank to her knees, staring blankly at the ground.
"I… I was right there in that hospital… and they told it was an accident… they lied to … for so many years…"
She had been raised on Hiruzen's stories; the village had been frad as a thing of order and necessity.
The idea that its leaders could plan sothing so cold had never been part of her map of the world.
That conditioning didn't make her weak; it made the revelation hit harder.
She had been overwheld, grieving, and the chaos of that ti had swallowed any chance to ever see the cracks.
Ryusei stepped forward, kneeling slightly beside her.
"You couldn't have known. They made sure of that. Even Orochimaru suspected, but without proof, he stayed quiet."
This wasn't a failure of her part, he ant.
She had also never been taught to suspect the teachers themselves.
Don't bla yourself for what a village trained you to believe.
Her teeth clenched. "Hiruzen… Danzo… You monsters, I'll—"
He rested a hand on her shoulder. "You'll have your chance. But not yet."
She turned to him, eyes burning, filled with both fury and grief.
"You planned to tell this now?"
"Yes," he said simply. "Because now, you're ready to hear it."
The wind carried their silence for a long ti.
"But first, you need to rember, don't let them see your fury yet."
Tsunade looked at him then, her expression raw but steadier.
"…And what would you have do?"
He smiled faintly, almost sadly.
"Live long enough to repay them properly."
She looked at him for a mont, silent, before muttering, "…You really are dangerous."
"Only to the right people," he replied quietly.
The night around them stayed still, heavy with mist.
She didn't move for a while, still crouched beside the corpse.
The fog curled around her shoulders like breath, faintly glowing under the barrier's thin light.
Ryusei quietly resealed it into the scroll, folding it with deliberate care.
When he looked up again, Tsunade's eyes were dry but hollow.
The rage hadn't vanished, only sunk deeper, condensed into sothing colder.
Then Ryusei broke the silence. "When you go back, pretend none of this exists. You can't win a war if the enemy thinks you've already declared it."
Tsunade's eyes lingered on him, searching. "You're not just doing this for , are you?"
"No," he said plainly. "My parents, your brother, our entire clan, they all trace back to the sa rot. Killing one snake ans nothing if the nest stays untouched."
Her shoulders straightened slowly. "You think you can clean the nest?"
He smiled faintly. "No. But I can collapse it."
The statent wasn't prideful, only certain.
Tsunade studied him for a long mont, then exhaled.
Her eyes softened just slightly. "Thank you… for showing ."
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