Big. And beautiful.
That was Uchiha Seiji's very first impression of Tsunade.
Not that he was being shallow—it was just that her features were, well… impossible to miss. Even the Sharingan had trouble resisting that kind of "illusion."
"Medical ninjutsu is interesting," Seiji said calmly, meeting her sharp brown eyes. "It lets your comrades survive the battlefield, helps them live long enough to reach their full potential."
Tsunade snorted, her gaze heavy with scorn and something sadder buried deep inside."Kid, the battlefield only ruins lives. Medical ninjutsu won't save anyone. And looking at you—what, fifteen? Sixteen? Don't tell me you're another idiot dreaming of becoming Hokage."
She sneered. "And you're an Uchiha, no less. Figures."
After the Second Shinobi War—after losing both her younger brother Nawaki and Dan Katō—Tsunade carried scars no medical ninjutsu could touch. Her hemophobia was one wound; her contempt for the Hokage seat was another. To her, only fools shouldered that cursed mantle.
Watching silently, Tobirama Senju felt his joy at seeing his beloved granddaughter sour into dread.What had she endured to twist her heart this way? What pain had left her so bitter toward the very Will of Fire she once embodied? In her eyes now flickered not just grief, but a faint, dangerous weariness with life itself.
Everyone present—Might Guy, Might Duy, Rin Nohara, even Shisui—stared at Tsunade in shock.The legendary Sannin, the student of the Third Hokage, speaking like a cynic on the edge of rebellion? This… this wasn't the Will of Fire at all.
"I don't want to be Hokage," Seiji replied evenly. "I just want to protect the people beside me."
"How naïve." Tsunade's lips curled into a mirthless smile. Still, her eyes darted back to his Sharingan—and then to Rin beside him. The sight rattled her.
The Uchiha's cursed eyes… being used to teach?A little girl who hadn't even earned a forehead protector was wielding the Mystical Palm Technique with uncanny precision—because Seiji was guiding her with his Sharingan.
Tsunade's chest tightened as she recalled her own proposal from years ago: every squad should include one medical ninja. If something like this had existed back then…
But no. That path was closed. She had lost too much—Hashirama, Tobirama, Nawaki, Dan. Everyone she loved, stolen away. She was too tired to chase hope again.
"What's your name?" she asked flatly.
"Uchiha Seiji."
"Then show me," she said. "Use your Mystical Palm. Medical ninjutsu isn't a trick you half-learn—it's life or death. Sloppy work will kill your patients faster than their wounds."
"He's Seiji, my lifelong rival!" Guy suddenly barked, bristling at her tone. "And Seiji's green flames of youth aren't sloppy at all! He's amazing!"
"An… auntie like you wouldn't understand our bond!"
Auntie.
Tsunade's eyes narrowed dangerously, killing intent sparking like a storm.
Seiji smoothly kicked Guy in the shin before stepping in front of him."Tsunade-sama," he said politely, chakra blooming in his palm. "Please guide me. I'd be grateful."
Her anger dimmed. "At least this brat knows how to talk." She shot Guy a glare that nearly sent him toppling before turning her attention to Seiji's technique.
And then her drunken flush faded, replaced with stillness.
The chakra in his palm… the balance, the precision—it was so familiar. So achingly familiar.
Seiji's Sharingan swirled as he smiled at her, eyes warm, almost… paternal.
Tsunade froze, and suddenly she wasn't staring at Seiji anymore. She was ten again, sitting on her granduncle's desk, whining until Tobirama himself gave in and showed her the Mystical Palm Technique step by step. Those had been the happiest days of her life.
And then the nightmare began. One by one, her loved ones fell—her brothers, her lovers, her comrades, her teachers. Each chasing prophecy, immortality, politics. Each leaving her behind.
"You…" she whispered, eyes trembling. "You look… just like him."
But the Sharingan pulled her back. He was Uchiha, not Senju. How ridiculous was this? If Tobirama knew she thought some Uchiha brat resembled him, he'd probably claw his way out of the Pure Land just to scold her.
And yet… if that could happen, she wouldn't mind.
"Your Mystical Palm is strong," she murmured, light glowing in her own hand. "But it can be sharper. Watch carefully—I'll show you the nature transformation of Yang Release."
Seiji nodded, Sharingan spinning as he traced every detail of her chakra flow.
That was the Uchiha gift.
And layered atop it, the Senju's inheritance—Tobirama's talent for reinventing jutsu itself. Together, the abilities meshed seamlessly.
When Seiji mirrored Tsunade's demonstration perfectly, he smiled. "Like this?"
Her heart lurched. Déjà vu. How many times had she invented some little trick, shown Tobirama proudly, only for him to replicate it instantly—then pat her head with gentle approval?
"…There's nothing more I can teach you, brat." Tsunade let out a long sigh. Her eyes lingered on him for a heartbeat longer, sharp, almost invasive—and then she spun on her heel and strode away.
Tears glistened in her eyes, born of alcohol but rooted in loneliness.
Seiji watched her back silently.
And Tobirama's composure finally cracked. "Seiji. Tell me. What happened to Tsunade?"