Tsunade fell into silence inside the tent.
The words of Namikaze Mirai echoed in her mind, leaving her with a storm of conflicting emotions. His vision, so vast and detached from Konoha's internal strife, contrasted sharply with the endless web of politics, obligations, and tradition that had entangled her for years.
Her thoughts churned.
The Third Hokage had always tried to use her influence—her bloodline, her name—to contain or check the rising tide that was Namikaze Mirai. But Mirai's words revealed something beyond simple ambition. His sight extended far beyond the Hokage's seat. He wasn't just thinking about leading Konoha. He was envisioning a different world entirely.
'Is this what they mean by true foresight?' Tsunade thought.
"If you can really cure my hemophobia," She said slowly, carefully weighing every word, "Then it's not impossible for me to remain in Konoha."
Her voice was quiet, but her tone carried an unfamiliar weight—hope, or perhaps the faintest whisper of belief.
Since the death of her brother Nawaki and her lover Dan, Tsunade had never truly looked back. Not with joy. Not with any kind of peace. The Konoha she once believed in had decayed under the pressure of war, manipulated by the hands of the old generation. The stench of political rot clung to everything now. Every breath in the village reeked of nostalgia that had turned sour.
The only way she could survive was to flee.
Flee into gambling, sake, and the illusion of freedom.
But...
'What if things really could change?'
Shizune stood at her side, watching quietly. Her eyes softened as she looked at her mentor. No one knew Tsunade better than she did. The legendary medical kunoichi was finally showing a flicker of that spark again. A spark that had long since been buried beneath layers of grief and guilt.
"But." Tsunade added, "Don't think I have any expectations. I'm letting you try—but I'm not holding out hope."
She was a realist. Hemophobia had plagued her for years—an affliction born not of physical wounds, but of psychological trauma rooted deep in her mind. No amount of chakra or regeneration could fix a cracked soul.
Even with the miracle he performed earlier, she wasn't optimistic.
Mirai nodded calmly. "Let me try, and we'll know soon enough."
Then he turned to Shizune and said politely, "Please step outside the tent for now."
Shizune blinked. "Me?"
"Yes. I need privacy for the procedure."
The request caught her off guard. "What kind of medical treatment needs me to leave?"
Before Mirai could answer, Tsunade narrowed her eyes and glared suspiciously.
"Hey! You better not be trying anything weird. Don't think I don't know what kind of guy you might be!" She pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Minato looked innocent too, but somehow that sweet talker managed to snag Kushina in less than a week! And you look exactly like him!"
Mirai's lips twitched. "Do I look like the type to take advantage of a patient?"
He let out a small sigh. "Honestly, if you were ten or fifteen years younger, maybe I'd consider it. But right now? I'm focused on healing, not flirting."
Tsunade growled, "What did you say?"
"Nothing." Mirai said with a straight face.
Shizune hesitated, unsure of whether to laugh or run, then turned to Tsunade. "Tsunade-sama, I'll be just outside. If anything feels wrong, just call for me."
Tsunade gave a grumpy nod. "Yeah, yeah. Go already."
With a worried glance at both of them, Shizune stepped outside and gently closed the tent flap behind her.
Now, only Tsunade and Mirai remained inside.
A sudden tension filled the space.
"How should I prepare for this?" Tsunade asked flatly.
"Get into bed." Mirai replied without hesitation.
"...Excuse me?"
"It'll be more convenient for the treatment."
Tsunade stared at him like she was about to punch him into the next tent. Still, after a moment of pause, she grumbled and turned over on the bed, yanking the quilt up to her chest. "Hurry up."
Because she had been sleeping alone in the tent before, she wore only a thin, close-fitting undershirt. The outline of her figure under the sheets was enough to make even Mirai cough lightly and avert his eyes.
'I'm a doctor. I'm a doctor.' He repeated to himself.
"Close your eyes." He instructed gently.
Tsunade's forehead twitched. "This is the last demand I'm going to entertain." she muttered but did as he asked.
She lay still on the bed, her eyes shut tight, body tense.
"Relax." Mirai said calmly. "I'm beginning."
His eyes changed. Gone was the warm, calm blue—they became distant, analytical, like lenses zooming into a dimension invisible to others.
In the Magnetic Field World, Namikaze Mirai was a god.
He gazed at Tsunade's exposed brain field, the ripples and swirls of electromagnetic waves echoing through her skull. Her emotional trauma was visible in these patterns—scars encoded into memory, locked into the neural pathways like cursed seals.
In his previous life, the idea of Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation (TMS) had existed—using magnetic pulses to influence parts of the brain to treat disorders.
Now, he would exceed that primitive method.
He extended his hand and began to delicately manipulate the magnetic fields surrounding her brain—targeting the amygdala, hippocampus, and prefrontal cortex—the centers responsible for fear, memory, and emotional regulation.
"Tsunade, relax. You're safe." He murmured.
Then, in a low and steady voice, he added, "If your brother Nawaki were here, do you think he'd want to see you like this? Drifting through life, numb and alone?"
The words struck something deep.
He watched carefully as Tsunade's brainwave patterns subtly shifted. The heavy, erratic pulses of trauma began to soften.
He kept speaking, not as a shinobi, but as a guide through her pain.
"This world is cruel, but running away doesn't change anything. You've seen enough death. It's time you live."
The more he fine-tuned the magnetic stimulation, the more stable the flow of neural signals became. A harmony began to form, like a broken melody finally resolving into a peaceful chord.
Inside his mind, another thought surfaced:
'When I refine this ability further… it could evolve into thought control. If I can manipulate the brain's magnetic field at will—control synapses, neurons, emotions—then I can reshape behavior… even memories.'
It was a terrifying idea.
One that belonged more to science fiction than reality.
'The ultimate puppetry technique…'
If he could emit this influence outward as electromagnetic waves…
'Skynet?'
He shook off the distraction and focused on completing the procedure.
After several minutes, Mirai pulled his hand away, exhaling slowly. The glowing blue light around his fingers dimmed.
"It's done." he said.
Tsunade opened her eyes.
"...Comfortable." she murmured.
Her voice was calm—tranquil even. A faint blush rose to her cheeks as she sat up in bed. "That… felt good. Like all the pressure in my head was suddenly lifted."
She looked at him with fresh eyes.
"To be honest, I didn't expect this. There was no chakra, no pain, and no jutsu I recognized… but somehow, I feel better than I have in years."
Mirai gave a small smile. "I didn't use chakra. This isn't traditional medical ninjutsu. Think of it as a more advanced… neurological technique."
Tsunade's eyes gleamed with interest.
"You've created an entirely new medical system." she whispered. "This… could revolutionize healing."
As the foremost medical ninja in the world, Tsunade felt something stir deep within her—curiosity. Excitement. Even admiration.
For the first time in years, she looked not at a comrade or a rival, but a visionary.
A man pulling the future into the present.
*****
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