The profound warmth of Tsunade's healing chakra lingered for a mont after she withdrew her hand, a ghost of comfort in his muscles and bones.
As the premier dical ninja in the world, her reputation was unquestionably earned. Her healing jutsu was nothing short of miraculous—a fact that would one day be proven when she survived being bisected by a Susanoo blade. Ragnar flexed his arms, rolled his shoulders. Not a single twinge of pain remained. Every ounce of fatigue was gone, replaced by a state of peak readiness, his mind sharp and his spirit clear.
Tsunade took a subtle, steadying breath—channeling that level of healing was never trivial—and then spoke, her tone observational. "Honestly, with the way you train, hamring your body past its breaking point every day, I expected to find a network of micro-fractures and torn ligants. A body full of ticking ti bombs. But…" She tilted her head, studying him with renewed interest. "Your physical foundation is rock solid. No hidden injuries at all. Seems I worried for nothing."
"Yeah," Ragnar replied, a note of genuine surprise in his own voice. The concern about long-term damage from his brutal regin had always been a quiet worry in the back of his mind, one he'd buried under the more imdiate need for power. To have an expert like Tsunade confirm his body was not only intact but exceptionally robust was a significant relief.
This resilience, he realized, had to be linked to Haki. Since reaching Level 3, the transformation of his physique had been palpable. His defense, speed, raw strength, and even his natural recovery had all skyrocketed, placing him in a different category from a typical shinobi. He recalled the legends from the system's world—figures like the Marine hero Garp, who maintained a physique that defied age, likely because they had tempered their bodies by cultivating Haki to a transcendent degree. In pure Haki attainnt, they stood above even emperors.
"Kid," Tsunade said, shifting topics. "The old man told you're joining ANBU."
"Yes. I am grateful for the Hokage's… consideration," Ragnar answered, his tone carefully neutral.
"Tch. Join ANBU, and you'll pretty much vanish from public view, you know," Tsunade said with a sigh that held a strange note of regret.
"Does ANBU restrict personal freedom?" Ragnar asked imdiately, his mind already calculating contingencies. If it ant being caged, he would need a new plan.
"No, no, not like that," Tsunade clarified, waving a hand. "You'll have your off-ti. But ANBU serves directly under the Hokage. The missions are almost always classified, and they often take operatives outside the village for extended periods. Plus…" She fixed him with a look. "ANBU identities are secret. Once you're in, even I won't officially know which mask is yours. You beco a ghost in the village's machine."
"I see. Thank you for explaining," Ragnar said, the information slotting into his ntal map of the path ahead.
"Don't ntion it. It's not a state secret. You'd find out soon enough anyway," Tsunade shrugged, her nonchalance seemingly genuine.
Ragnar studied her. She was undeniably beautiful, possessing a vibrant, fearless charm that was rare in their grim world. Young, powerful, and unburdened by the cynicism that would later claim her, she was the kind of person who naturally drew others in. If he weren't physically a child, he wasn't sure how he'd react to that presence. The thought led to a blunt, uncharacteristically personal question.
"Tsunade… sister. Why are you being so kind to ?"
The air stilled for a second.
"What did you just call ?" Tsunade blinked, a look of pure, comical disbelief on her face, as if she'd misheard.
"Sister Tsunade," Ragnar repeated, without hesitation. She was older. She had saved his life. She had just healed him. The title, in this context, felt appropriate, a small token for the unexpected warmth she'd shown.
"Ha! Hahaha!" Tsunade's laughter burst out, rich and full of surprise. This cold, solitary little block of ice could be polite? "Say it again, for your sister."
"Heh," Ragnar responded, rolling his eyes this ti, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips.
Tsunade wasn't offended. The sound of him calling her 'sister' was oddly satisfying. Her expression softened. "Why? I pulled you out of that ruined village. I suppose I feel… responsible."
"Oh," Ragnar said, the simple syllable holding a weight of understanding.
Tsunade looked at his young, serious face and felt a pang. She thought of her own little brother, Nawaki, who talked big about being Hokage but whose skills were, frankly, a ss she couldn't bear to watch. It would be nice if he had even a fraction of this kid's grim self-sufficiency.
Seeming to co to a decision, she reached into her clothing and pulled out a tightly wound white scroll. She held it out to him.
"What is this?" Ragnar asked, eyeing it warily.
"The training thod for the Strength of a Hundred seal, and my personal notes on chakra-enhanced strength," she said matter-of-factly. "You have that strange, hard power. It's not the sa, but the principles of focusing power might be useful. If you have any latent aptitude for it, this could help you unlock it."
Ragnar didn't take it. He shook his head. "This is too valuable. I can't accept it."
Tsunade's brow furrowed. She stepped forward and shoved the scroll firmly into his hands, ignoring his resistance. "Don't be stubborn, brat. Consider it a gift for calling 'sister.' And you're walking into ANBU. Danger will be your new shadow. The more tools you have, the better your chances of walking back out."
Before he could formulate another refusal, she took a quick step back. "Be careful, kid."
POOF.
With a burst of smoke and a practiced Body Flicker, she was gone, leaving Ragnar standing alone, the weight of the scroll suddenly imnse in his hands.
For a long mont, he simply stood there. In this village of hidden blades and whispered politics, he had just been given a genuine, unasked-for kindness. It was a warmth he had almost forgotten could exist.
Later that day, Ragnar made one last visit to the Ninja Academy to formalize his early graduation. The instructors, already briefed by the Hokage's office and well aware of the tournant champion, processed the paperwork with bureaucratic efficiency.
He was handed the Konoha forehead protector. The tal plate felt cool and heavy. He looked at it, then, instead of placing it on his brow like most, he thodically tied it around his left bicep. Sothing about wearing it on his forehead felt… performative. This felt more practical, a tool at the ready.
The village had no strict rules on the matter. A shinobi's loyalty wasn't in the placent of the headband, but in their blood and actions.
Afterward, he walked the familiar, now-hollow-seeming halls of the academy one final ti. Once he stepped out, he would no longer be a student in a controlled environnt. He would be a genin, a tiny cog in the vast, bloody machine of the shinobi world, subject to its brutal tests. He would be a ghost in ANBU's ranks.
He realized he hadn't seen Kushina all day. There would be no chance for a goodbye. The thought was a slight, unexpected tug, quickly suppressed. Sentint was a luxury his path could ill afford.
As dusk painted the sky in deep blues and purples, Ragnar returned to his cabin. He was not alone.
An ANBU operative was already waiting, leaning silently against the wall as if carved from shadow. The man wore the standard porcelain animal mask—this one depicting a stylized, fierce dog—and the head-to-toe black uniform of the force.
The operative spoke, his voice filtered and emotionless through the mask. "Ragnar. I am your induction officer. Codena: Tengu."
He held out a bundle of black fabric—a smaller set of the ANBU uniform, sans armor and mask for now.
Ragnar gave a short, acknowledging nod. "Understood."
"Your situation is unique," Tengu continued, his tone devoid of any inflection. "Early graduation. Therefore, you do not beco a full ANBU operative imdiately. You will enter as a probationary candidate. To earn the mask and beco a true operative of the Hokage, you must pass a series of assessnts and screenings. Is this clear?"
"Clear," Ragnar replied, his own voice flat. So, he was an intern. A trainee in the shadows. It made sense. A real ANBU mber needed to master encrypted communications, complex infiltration protocols, and a dozen other deadly arts beyond simple combat.
"Follow ."
Without another word, Anbu Tengu's form blurred. There was a soft POOF of displaced air, and he vanished from the spot, leaving only a faint wisp of white smoke.
Ragnar did not hesitate. He tightened the strap of his new headband on his arm, secured the bundle of black clothing, and with a focused exertion of leg strength, employed Shave. The world beca a blur as he shot forward, following the nearly imperceptible trail of the shinobi who had just stepped into the world Ragnar was now entering—the world of the shadows.
(End of Chapter)
✨If you're enjoying this story, consider supporting on Patreon —
Patreon/TofuChan 20% off for a week
💕Patreon mbers get early access to chapters, bonus content, and voting power on future ideas.💕
Every bit of support helps write more and faster. Thank you so much for reading! 🥰
✨✨ I'll release an extra chapter for every 5 reviews! ✨✨🥳🥳 For every 50 power stones! 🥳🥳
Lets hit the goal of 30 Patreon mbers now for 5 Extra Chapters 💕
I believe we can do it!
Check out the new Naruto Fanfic as well
User Comments
0 comments from readers