Chapter 58 – Farewell
"This is the Summoning Scroll of the Shikkotsu Forest. Go on—open it."
Tsunade's voice was calm, but there was a quiet weight behind it.
Taichi nodded and carefully unrolled the enormous scroll.
Lines upon lines of names filled the parchment, written in fading ink.
Every name had long since lost its luster—except for the most recent one at the very end: Tsunade.
"Use your blood to write your name beneath mine," Tsunade instructed softly, turning away to look toward the distant lights of Konoha.
"Then press your handprint beside it."
Taichi inhaled deeply.
Forming a chakra scalpel with his left hand, he made a small incision on his right index finger.
With the blood that welled forth, he carefully wrote—
Matsushita Taichi
—then pressed his hand firmly beside the name, sealing the contract.
When it was done, he rolled up the scroll again and faced Tsunade.
"Sensei, it's complete."
At his words, Tsunade turned back around.
For a moment, she just looked at him—this boy she'd once taken on reluctantly, who now stood tall with quiet confidence.
A faint, self-deprecating smile tugged at her lips.
Guess I really have gotten soft…
---
"Taichi," she said at last, "remember this—the hand signs for the summoning jutsu are: Boar → Dog → Bird → Monkey → Ram. Don't mess them up. Got it?"
Taichi nodded eagerly.
"Good. Now, try it once."
She stepped back to give him room.
Excitement flared in his chest.
This was the summoning of the Three Great Sages—a power that, until now, only the Sannin themselves possessed.
And now… he was one of them.
Steadying his breath, Taichi gathered chakra throughout his body, focusing about one-tenth of his reserves. Using the blood still on his palm, he formed the seals:
"Boar! Dog! Bird! Monkey! Ram!—Summoning Jutsu!"
With a bang, the ground beneath him erupted in black sealing marks. Smoke billowed outward, and a massive shadow rose from within it.
When the haze cleared, a three-meter-tall slug loomed before them, its slick, pale-blue body glistening under the sunlight.
Tsunade's brows lifted slightly—she hadn't expected him to summon such a large one on his first attempt.
This kid's chakra reserves… they're not ordinary.
The slug's long antennae swayed, turning back and forth between Tsunade and Taichi before finally fixing on her.
"Tsunade-sama," it spoke in a soft, echoing tone, "you summoned me—what is it you need?"
"Katsuyu," Tsunade said with a small smile, "I'd like you to meet my student—Matsushita Taichi. He's now a signed contractor of the Shikkotsu Forest."
Taichi immediately bowed deeply.
"Pleased to meet you, Lady Katsuyu. I'm Matsushita Taichi. It's an honor—please take care of me from now on."
Katsuyu's antennae twitched as she turned both eyes toward him, scanning him up and down.
"Understood, Taichi. But there's no need for such formality. Just call me Katsuyu—I prefer it that way."
"Alright, Katsuyu," Taichi replied with a grin, adapting easily.
Their exchange drew the faintest trace of amusement to Tsunade's face, but she quickly waved it off.
"That's enough introductions. Katsuyu, thank you—you can return now."
"Of course," the slug answered.
Before vanishing, she turned one last time toward Taichi, her gentle voice echoing like a whisper in the air:
"If you ever need me, Taichi—just summon me."
And with a soft puff, she was gone.
---
The clearing fell silent again, save for the faint rustle of leaves.
Tsunade stood quietly, gazing up at the sky where the smoke had dispersed, while Taichi looked down at the scroll in his hands—at the mark that now bound him to the Shikkotsu Forest.
A part of her legacy now rested with him.
After Katsuyu disappeared in a puff of smoke, Tsunade turned back to Taichi and continued her explanation, her tone soft but precise:
"There's only one slug in the entire Shikkotsu Forest—the Slug Sage itself.
Every Katsuyu we summon is actually one of its many clones.
The more chakra you channel, the larger the clone you'll summon.
You'll learn how to control that balance over time."
She paused, then added,
"The rest of what you need to know is written in the scroll. You can read it later."
Once all her instructions had been given, Tsunade exhaled lightly, as if releasing a burden she had carried for years.
"That's all," she said. "You don't need to see me off. I'll be leaving with Shizune soon."
She gave a small, dismissive wave and started down the stone path from the Hokage Rock.
---
The faint joy of his new contract had barely settled before it was washed away by the ache of parting.
Watching her receding figure, Taichi suddenly felt something twist inside him—an impulse he didn't bother to resist.
"Sensei!" he shouted after her. "Come to my place tonight! I'll cook you a proper farewell dinner!"
Tsunade froze mid-step.
For a heartbeat, she didn't move.
Then—Taichi could've sworn he saw her swallow hard.
From afar came her single, short reply, carried on the wind:
"...Alright."
---
That evening, Taichi canceled all his training sessions and hurried to the market.
He moved quickly through the crowded stalls, carefully selecting every ingredient—
gleaming eggplants, plump red tomatoes, silvery saury glistening with freshness.
As his fingers brushed over the cool leaves of fresh greens, a memory rose unbidden:
The first time he'd ever cooked for Tsunade.
Her impatient voice demanding "Another bowl!,"
the way she'd slapped the table, oil splattering everywhere—and not caring in the slightest.
He smiled faintly and tightened his grip on the shopping bag.
---
Before long, the kitchen filled with the sizzle of oil and the aroma of grilled fish.
Finely shredded daikon piled high on the counter; a burst of flame from the wok cast a golden light over his face.
He moved with practiced precision, each motion smooth and sure.
The tempura crackled as it turned crisp and golden.
The miso soup simmered gently, bubbles breaking the surface.
And when the last dish—a gleaming plate of teriyaki eel—was plated, the doorbell rang.
---
Tsunade leaned against the doorway.
Her loose robe was tied carelessly at the waist, hair still faintly scented of sake.
"Quite the spread you've got here, brat," she muttered with mock disdain—but her eyes betrayed her.
They were fixed on the table, wide with unmistakable hunger.
The table was a feast of care and memory—
onigiri shaped like cheerful little frogs, rainbow-colored dango skewered neatly on bamboo sticks, even the humble pickled radish carved into petal patterns.
---
They sat cross-legged across a low table.
Moonlight spilled through the paper windows, weaving pale silk across the tatami.
Tsunade grabbed the sake bottle and drank straight from the mouth, clear liquid tracing down her throat and vanishing into her collar.
"Heh… Nawaki used to say my rice balls were as hard as rocks."
She laughed softly, rubbing the little frog-shaped onigiri between her fingers.
"With cooking like this, kid, you could open a restaurant and make a fortune."
Her smile lingered—bittersweet, tired, genuine.
"Who knows when I'll get to eat like this again," she murmured.
"You could always… stay," Taichi said, pretending to sound casual.
She didn't answer.
Only ate quietly, her chopsticks moving slower with each bite.
---
Without a word, Taichi reached over and placed a piece of teriyaki eel in her bowl.
The amber glaze glistened under the flickering candlelight, the scent rich and sweet.
Tsunade chewed in silence, lashes casting trembling shadows on her cheeks.
The sake bottle emptied and refilled, emptied again.
By the end, the once-beautiful spread had turned into a battlefield of empty dishes and overturned cups.
When the moon tilted westward, Tsunade finally slumped forward onto the low table and drifted into sleep.
Quietly, Taichi walked over and draped a thin blanket over her shoulders before heading to the kitchen to clean up.
---
Before dawn, the house was silent once more.
When Tsunade awoke, the air was cool, and everything had been tidied away—table, dishes, even the faint scent of food.
She stood for a moment in the doorway, then left without a sound.
---
At that same moment, Taichi opened his eyes.
He'd been awake the whole time.
He always rose early for training—but this time, he'd simply lain there, not wanting to disturb her rest.
After washing up, he went straight to the village gates—
but even so, he was too late.
Tsunade and Shizune were already gone.
---
Climbing up to the outer wall of Konoha, he finally spotted them in the distance—two figures, one tall, one small—walking along the forest path bathed in morning light.
Maybe it was the strength of his gaze, but both of them turned at the same time.
From far away, Shizune waved excitedly with both hands, then pulled out the medical scroll Taichi had given her, waving it above her head as if to say:
I'll study hard—just you wait!
As for Tsunade—
she simply smiled faintly, lifted a hand in a quiet wave, and then turned, leading Shizune forward once more.
Taichi's vision blurred for a moment, the corners of his eyes glistening.
He stood there, watching until their figures dissolved into the dawn mist.
Then he exhaled, steady and deep, and jumped down from the wall.
Training awaited.
---
That morning, the once-slumbering village of Konoha stirred awake again—
its streets filling with chatter, laughter, and the hum of life.
No one seemed to notice that on this day,
the Princess of Konoha had quietly left the village that had both raised her—
and broken her heart.
---