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The battle raged on. More intense. More precise. But what truly set Senju Nawaki apart wasn't brute strength—it was his calm. A strange serenity for someone with such a young face. Every blow he struck was clean, deliberate, emotionless. Nothing distracted him. Nothing made him hesitate. He didn't just fight. He controlled the fight—anticipated, manipulated, and shaped every second like an artist sculpting raw stone into perfection.
Because in this ruthless world, survival wasn't about feelings. It was about absolute mastery. And in that, Nawaki excelled. Not by luck. Not by talent. But by vision. By intellect. And by something no one around him could see: he had lived another life.
As the dust of the explosion began to settle, Nawaki let his body relax. His muscles unwound. His breathing was steady and firm, as if the battle had been nothing more than another advanced training session—a checkpoint of progress. And then... something inside awakened.
A warmth.
Subtle at first, like the first ray of sunlight brushing against skin on a crisp autumn morning. Then came the pulse. Chakra spiraling through his tenketsu like a well-rehearsed dance. His golden-brown eyes narrowed. He knew this sensation.
[Template: Tsunade Senju]
[100% Synchronization — Complete]
It was like opening a floodgate. Her knowledge—everything Tsunade would one day master—came crashing into him like an avalanche of hidden wisdom. Human anatomy, cellular regeneration, advanced medical seals and support techniques. It was as if every cell in his body had been reprogrammed to understand, diagnose, and manipulate the human body with divine precision.
He could heal with a touch. Kill with another.
The smile on his face wasn't arrogance. It was quiet triumph. He had crossed the barrier of the possible. He had become something even Tsunade could never imagine. And all of this at just seven years old.
He stood slowly. Dust slid off his shoulders like the world itself was bowing in silent reverence. In that moment, Nawaki was no longer just the little brother of the Senju princess. He was the heir of the legacy. The architect of a bloodline on the brink of extinction.
Every technique Tsunade would create... was already his. Stored. Understood. Mastered. From Chakra Scalpel to Creation Rebirth. From Yin Seal to Full Body Control. Techniques that would take decades of study were now archived in his mind like eternal scrolls. He could regenerate organs, neutralize poison, even slow down cellular aging—yes, this was it. He was approaching immortality.
And beyond that... there was more.
[Template: Minato Namikaze]
[Pre-synchronization — Initiated]
Even unborn, the brilliance of Minato's technique—his mastery over space-time—was already calling to Nawaki. The Flying Thunder God Technique—Hiraishin no Jutsu—was no longer a dream. It was a promise. A blade waiting for the right wielder.
He breathed deeply. His expanded awareness could feel the pieces beginning to fall into place. Time was just a temporary barrier. When the moment came, he wouldn't just master that technique... he would surpass it.
Satisfaction. Full. Absolute.
And then a memory came rushing in.
[First presentations at the Academy]
He remembered it perfectly. Tsunade, full of fire, standing tall with her hands on her hips, shouting proudly:
— I will become Hokage! And the greatest medical ninja this world has ever seen!
It was so typical. So Tsunade.
And Nawaki? He knew exactly what to say.
— My dream is to bring peace to the shinobi world, he said, staring forward. And to do that... I must survive. I must become Hokage.
The class had gone silent. The words hung in the air like thick smoke before a storm.
Then he added, with just the right touch of dramatization:
— I never go back on my word. That's my ninja way.
BAM.
Immediate impact.
Tsunade had blushed to the tips of her ears.
That wasn't just a line. It was a trap. And she had walked right into it. A hook baited with pride, courage, and destiny. Designed to capture the heart of the most prideful girl he'd ever known.
He remembered that moment with strategic delight. Every sentence had a purpose. Every pause, a manipulation. He hadn't lied. But he'd known exactly how to shape the truth.
And now, with her entire knowledge flowing inside him, it was almost poetic.
In the present, he wasn't just the top student. He wasn't just Tsunade's little brother. He was the last male Senju. The only one left. The final card of a fading clan.
And Tsunade? Oh... she knew it.
Even as the older sister, even after acting like a mother ever since their parents died, there was something ambiguous in their bond. Something silent. Unspoken. Something that Mito Uzumaki noticed but pretended not to.
Which is why Nawaki knew: teaching Tsunade was the next step. She needed to match him. She needed to see that her place wasn't above him—but beside him. As a pillar. As the other half of the legacy.
— Tsunade... you'll never really know how much you're learning from me, he murmured, adjusting his forehead protector as his eyes drifted to the horizon.
The future was a wide road. And he was ready to pave it with his own hands.
But the game was still at its beginning.
Nawaki turned, walking deeper into the forest. The sound of dry leaves cracking beneath his feet echoed like drumbeats—memories of the past, warnings of what was to come.
Soon, new generations would rise. New names. New threats. But he would be there. To absorb. To surpass. And, if needed, to destroy.
The sky above was now stained in purples and golds. A reflection of the storm inside him. Night was falling—slow, majestic. And with it, the next set of moves.
Senju Nawaki smiled faintly.
Because he had already won.
But he wasn't done yet.
The game had only just begun.