Hidden Leaf Hospital, third-floor surgical ward.
Tsunade ripped off her blood-stained gloves and tossed them carelessly into the waste bin.
It had been a seven-hour surgery, stretching from evening into the early hours of the morning. The wounded from the front lines had arrived one after another, in an endless stream.
Exhausted, she pushed open the door to the breakroom. Without even bothering to turn on the lights, she collapsed onto her desk, her forehead pressing against the surface as her eyelids grew heavy.
...
A pavilion.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps above. Dice spun, making a crisp clicking sound as they collided.
A boy tilted his head to look at her, a shy, sheepish smile playing on his lips.
"I don't know how. Will you teach ?"
The image shattered.
When the pieces knit back together, it was the wind atop a cliff. The setting sun had scorched the sky into a deep, vibrant orange.
She closed her eyes and stood on her tiptoes. The mont their lips t, the sound of her own heartbeat drowned out the roaring wind.
The image shattered again.
This ti, it assembled into a kitchen. He stood before the stove, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, turning back to smile at her.
"You put too much salt in! Did you do that on purpose?"
She could hear her own voice—scolding, yet laced with laughter.
Then, the kitchen vanished.
A morgue.
A white sheet was lifted.
He lay there, his complexion ashen, a massive penetrating wound torn through his abdon. She reached out to touch his face.
He was cold.
A bone-deep, freezing cold.
"You lied to ..."
She heard her own voice trembling.
"You said you wouldn't die before ..."
Her chest suddenly tightened.
It hurt.
It wasn't the kind of pain one usually feels in a dream. It was a vivid, searing ache that tightened with every breath she took.
...
Tsunade snapped her eyes open.
She remained sprawled across the desk, staring motionlessly at the dark surface before her. She waited for her racing heart to slow down.
She reached up to touch the corner of her eye.
Had she been crying?
Tsunade lowered her hand, looking at the dampness on her fingertips. She had stood over an operating table for seven hours without so much as a blink, yet she had wept over a dream while napping at her desk?
But that stifled pain in her chest remained, refusing to leave. It wasn't the lingering fear that follows a nightmare. It felt more like—
An old wound from a loss long ago had been violently ripped open.
A na surfaced in her mind.
Hagoromo Kaede.
Tsunade frowned deeply. She searched frantically through her actual mories.
The Hagoromo Clan? Did such a clan exist in the Hidden Leaf?
In the dream, she had seen the man's face with absolute clarity. But now that she was awake, his features were blurring, as if obscured by a thick mist.
Only those eyes remained—calm, gentle, and possessing a certainty that brought an inexplicable sense of peace. They were etched into her mind; no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake them.
Tsunade pressed her temples firmly.
Sothing was wrong. This was absolutely no ordinary dream. Who could feel this much physical pain from a re dream? Her chest still felt heavy, and her breath tasted bitter.
Twenty-so years. Every image had been filled with detail, warmth, and scent. She could even rember how he slled.
"I've gone crazy..."
Tsunade cursed under her breath and grabbed the water glass on the desk, taking a heavy gulp. The cold liquid finally suppressed the surging emotions.
*Knock, knock, knock.*
A nurse pushed the door open and paused, startled by the look on Tsunade's face.
"Lady Tsunade, what's wrong? Your eyes are so red—"
Tsunade instantly wiped her expression clean. Her gaze returned to its usual indifference, her tone as flat as if nothing had happened.
"It's nothing."
She stood up, grabbed the green haori with the word "Gamble" printed on it from the back of her chair, and threw it on with practiced efficiency.
The nurse spoke up quickly, "You have another surgery in half an hour—"
"Push it back by thirty minutes," Tsunade said, already walking toward the door without looking back. "I'm heading to the Hokage building. I'll be right back."
The nurse didn't dare stop her.
...
Hokage Building.
*Bang!*
The office door was violently thrown open.
Hiruzen Sarutobi flinched, causing ash from his pipe to drop onto the docunts he had just approved, searing a black mark into the paper. He looked up.
Tsunade stood in the doorway, her expression grim.
Hiruzen glanced at her, blew the ash off his docunts, and spoke in a leisurely tone. "Sooner or later, I'm replacing this door with an iron one."
Tsunade ignored the banter. She marched up to the desk in three strides, leaned forward, and slamd both hands onto the surface.
"Old man, is there a Hagoromo Clan in the village?"
The movent of Hiruzen's pipe stopped. He truly hadn't expected that question. He took a puff of smoke and searched his mory.
"There is."
Tsunade's fingers tightened on the desk.
"But that's ancient history from the Warring States period; they've long since declined. There are only a few people left in the village now. You can hardly call them a clan anymore."
Hiruzen exhaled a cloud of smoke and added casually, "Why are you asking?"
Tsunade didn't answer. Her pupils contracted.
They really existed. The Hagoromo Clan really existed in the Hidden Leaf.
The dream aligned with reality. This was no coincidence.
"And within that clan, is there soone nad 'Hagoromo Kaede'?"
The pipe nearly fell from Hiruzen's mouth. He rolled his eyes, looking completely exasperated.
"There are tens of thousands of people in the Hidden Leaf—shinobi and civilians alike. You want to rember every single na? I'm the Hokage, not the census bureau."
Tsunade didn't speak; she simply stared at him. Her gaze was stubborn, and it held a spark of sothing Hiruzen had never seen in her before.
Urgency.
Tsunade rarely showed such an emotion. Since she was a child, she had been competitive and fearless, rarely showing respect even to him, her teacher. But "urgency" was a feeling she almost never let slip.
Hiruzen dropped the teasing tone and pondered for a mont.
"I'll have the ANBU check the current roster of the Hagoromo Clan. Once it's organized, I'll have it sent directly to your office."
Tsunade's tense shoulders relaxed slightly. "As fast as possible."
Hiruzen nodded. The business was settled, but the old man's curiosity was not. He kept the pipe in his mouth and added slowly, "Since when did you suddenly start inquiring about a man?"
He deliberately emphasized the word "man."
Tsunade stopped. She stood with her back to him, motionless.
After a beat of silence—
"Mind your own business!"
Tsunade huffed and strode out of the room.
Hiruzen watched the empty doorway, narrowing his eyes. Ever since Nawaki died, this girl had never shown interest in anyone. That brat Jiraiya had spent years pursuing her without receiving so much as a kind word.
And today, she runs to the Hokage building to ask about a man's na.
Interesting.
Hiruzen looked down, tore off the scorched corner of the docunt, and continued his work. A small smile touched the corners of his lips.
...
In the corridor, Tsunade's pace slowed.
Hiruzen's comnt had caught her off guard. Not because of the implication regarding "a man," but because she realized she didn't have an answer.
Why was she searching for this person? Because of a dream? A man she had never t, and twenty years of a life that 'belonged' to her?
She couldn't put it into words. The answer was right there—she could see its outline, but she couldn't grasp it.
As she stepped out of the Hokage building, the sunlight washed over her. That stifled feeling in her chest remained.
It felt empty, as if sothing vital was missing.
Tsunade raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun and began walking back toward the hospital.
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