He had her.
For a split second, as Naruto flew through the air, the chaotic blue storm of the Rasengan grinding against his palm, he was sure of it. Tsunade wasn't moving. Her eyes were wide, unfocused, staring right through him at something that wasn't there.
I'm gonna hit her! I'm gonna make her take it back!
He was three feet away. Two feet.
Then, the ghost in her eyes vanished.
The hazel irises snapped back into sharp, terrifying focus. She didn't dodge. She didn't block. She didn't even raise a hand to defend herself.
She lifted her right leg, brought her heel down, and stomped.
KRA-KOOM.
The sound wasn't like a punch. It was like a mountain snapping in half.
The cobblestone street didn't just crack; it liquefied. A shockwave of pure kinetic energy exploded outward from her sandal. The ground beneath Naruto simply ceased to exist.
"WHA—?!"
Gravity failed him. The earth buckled, throwing him off balance instantly. The unfinished Rasengan slammed into the exploding pavement, grinding uselessly against the stone for a millisecond before the sheer force of the shockwave scattered his concentration.
The chakra fizzled out.
Naruto tumbled forward, not into an enemy, but into a fissure. He hit the bottom of a ten-foot crater, rolling through dust and debris, coughing, his ears ringing like the temple bells on New Year's Eve.
He lay there for a second, staring up at the slice of night sky above the hole.
One finger, he thought, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. She didn't even use the finger. She just stepped on the ground.
From the rim of the crater, he heard a low whistle.
"Monstrous strength," Anko's voice drifted down. "The rumors were actually understating it. Remind me never to owe her money."
"My chest..." Sylvie's voice sounded tight, strained. "That chakra spike... it felt like a bomb going off inside my own nervous system."
Naruto scrambled up, clawing his way out of the hole. Dirt covered his face. His jumpsuit was torn at the knee.
He pulled himself over the edge just in time to see Tsunade looming over them. But she wasn't looking at him. She was glaring at Jiraiya with a fury that made the crater look like a friendly suggestion.
"You senile old pervert," she hissed.
Jiraiya held up his hands. "Now, Hime—"
"Don't 'Hime' me!" Tsunade roared. "You taught that jutsu to a genin? The Fourth's jutsu? Are you trying to get him killed? Or are you just giving him false hope to amuse yourself?"
"He's a fast learner!" Jiraiya argued, though he took a half-step back. "He's got guts, Tsunade. He reminds me of—"
"He has no talent!" Tsunade shouted, cutting him off. "He's loud, he's clumsy, and his chakra control is garbage! Teaching him the Rasengan is like giving a monkey a paper bomb! He'll never master it. He's just another dreamer who's going to die young because you filled his head with delusions!"
Naruto grit his teeth. The ringing in his ears faded, replaced by the roar of his own blood.
No talent. Die young. Delusions.
"SHUT UP!"
Naruto pulled himself fully out of the hole. He stood there, swaying slightly, dirt streaked across his whisker marks.
"Don't you decide what I can do!" Naruto screamed, pointing a shaking finger at her. "I'll master it! I'll master that jutsu in three days just to wipe that smirk off your face!"
Tsunade looked at him. Her expression was cold.
"Three days?" she scoffed. "Impossible. Even the Fourth took three years. You think a brat like you can do it in a weekend?"
"Watch me!"
Tsunade stared at him. Then, a strange gleam entered her eye. She reached into her kimono and pulled out a necklace.
It was a simple thing—a green crystal hanging on a thick cord. But even from here, Naruto could feel the heavy, thrumming chakra inside it.
"This necklace," Tsunade said, holding it up to the lantern light, "belonged to the First Hokage. It's worth enough to buy three mountains. It's the only thing I have left of my grandfather."
She looked at Naruto.
"One week," she said.
Naruto blinked. "Huh?"
"I'll give you one week," Tsunade said. "If you can master that jutsu perfectly—not that messy sparkler you just tried, but the real thing—in one week, I'll give you this necklace."
She smirked.
"But if you fail... I take all that money in the frog wallet."
Naruto didn't hesitate. He didn't care about the money. He cared about the look in her eyes—the look that said he was nothing.
"DEAL!" Naruto shouted. "And when I win, I'm gonna be Hokage, and you're gonna have to admit I'm not just some brat!"
Tsunade lowered the necklace. Her smirk widened, but it wasn't friendly. It was the smile of a shark that had just smelled blood.
Her eyes slid past Naruto. They landed on the sidelines.
They lingered on Sylvie.
Sylvie was standing next to Anko, wiping dust off her glasses, looking pale and worried. She was staring at Naruto's scraped hands with that intense, analyzing frown she always got when she was calculating how many bandages they were going to need.
Tsunade's eyes narrowed. She clocked the proximity. The worry. The way the girl had tried to step in earlier with her little binding seals.
"You've got spirit, kid. I'll give you that," Tsunade drawled, looking back at Naruto. "Tell you what... when you win, you can give the necklace to your little girlfriend over there."
She gestured casually at Sylvie.
"It's a nice piece of jewelry," Tsunade said, her voice dripping with mockery. "Might help you score."
Naruto froze.
The anger vanished. The adrenaline vanished.
His brain short-circuited.
His face turned a shade of red that rivaled the Uzumaki clan crest. Steam practically erupted from his ears.
"WH-WHAT?!"
He flailed his arms, looking back and forth between Tsunade and Sylvie like a trapped animal.
"SHE'S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!!" Naruto shrieked, his voice cracking three times. "SHE'S JUST... SHE'S SYLVIE! SHE'S MY- WE'RE TEAMMATES....FRIENDS... SHE'S JUST SYLVIE! SHUT UP, YOU HAG!"
Sylvie didn't blush. She adjusted her glasses, looking deeply offended by the logic rather than the insinuation.
"Statistically," Sylvie said, her voice flat, "based on the survival rate of the previous owners, that necklace is cursed. I do not want it. Also, ew. No offense, Naruto."
"None taken!" Naruto yelled, still flailing. "Wait, why 'ew'?!"
Anko threw her head back and cackled, the sound loud and grating in the night air.
"Better get training, Romeo!" Anko jeered, slapping Naruto on the back hard enough to make him stumble. "Clock's ticking! Less blushing, more spinning!"
Naruto let out a incoherent noise of frustration. He threw a rude hand gesture at Tsunade—something involving two fingers and a tongue stuck out—and spun around.
"I'M STARTING NOW!" he screamed.
He took off running toward the dark woods outside the town, his arms pumping, fleeing the conversation as much as he was running toward the training.
"Stupid hag! Stupid necklace! Stupid girlfriend comment!" his voice faded into the distance.
Sylvie sighed. She reached into her pouch, checking her supply of medical tape.
"I'll make sure he doesn't explode his own hand," she muttered.
She looked at Tsunade one last time—a cold, measuring look that lasted a second too long for a genin—before turning and sprinting after him.
"Try the sake," Anko called out to the Sannin, giving a mock salute before following the kids. "It's cheap here. Matches your attitude."
Then they were gone.
Leaving the Legendary Sucker standing in the middle of a cratered street, the smile slipping off her face like a mask that had become too heavy to hold.
The silence rushed back in as soon as the brats were gone.
The festival noise was barely there now in the distance—the drums, the bells, the laughter—but in the dark street outside the Tipsy Tanuki, the air had grown heavy. Cold.
Tsunade walked over to the small outdoor table where Jiraiya had seated himself. She sat down heavily. The wood creaked under her weight.
Shizune sat across from them, clutching Tonton. The pig was trembling. Shizune looked like she wanted to be anywhere else in the world.
"Shizune," Tsunade said quietly. "Go check on the room. Make sure we didn't leave anything."
"But Lady Tsunade—"
"Go."
Shizune swallowed, bowed her head, and scrambled away, clutching the pig.
Now it was just the two of them. Two thirds of a legend.
Jiraiya poured sake into two small cups. The liquid was clear, catching the moonlight. He pushed one toward her.
He didn't pick up his own.
"I know Orochimaru approached you," Jiraiya said.
His voice wasn't the boisterous roar of the Toad Sage. It wasn't the lecherous whine of the pervert. It was low, gravelly, and dangerous. It was the voice of a man who had killed more people than he could count in service of his home.
Tsunade paused, the cup halfway to her lips.
She didn't deny it. There was no point. Jiraiya had spies everywhere. The toad saw all.
"He made an offer," Tsunade said, staring at the sake.
"I don't know what he offered you," Jiraiya said. His dark eyes locked onto her face, searching for a crack. "Money? Power? Or did he promise you something impossible?"
Tsunade didn't answer. She swirled the liquid in the cup.
Impossible, she thought. Is it? Or are we just too scared to try?
Jiraiya leaned forward. The table groaned.
"Tsunade," he said. "If you betray the village... if you help him harm Konoha... if you heal his arms so he can finish what he started..."
The killing intent flared. It wasn't flashy. It was a dense, suffocating weight that pressed against her skin.
"I will kill you."
Tsunade gripped the cup. The ceramic threatened to crack.
She thought of the last hour.
She remembered the girl with the glasses. Sylvie. The way she had looked at Tsunade just now. Not with fear. With calculation. Like she was diagnosing a disease.
Her eyes, Tsunade noted absently, her medical brain working even through the tension. The girl squints, but there's no refractive error. Her pupils dilate when she uses chakra. It's not poor vision; it's sensory overload. Her optic nerves are fighting her own energy signature.
And now Jiraiya. Her old teammate. Threatening to execute her.
"You've gotten scary in your old age, Jiraiya," Tsunade said softly.
She knocked back the sake. It burned going down. It didn't burn enough.
Jiraiya watched her drink. Slowly, the killing intent receded. He picked up his own cup, his shoulders slumping.
"That kid..." Jiraiya muttered, shaking his head. "Naruto. He's a handful."
Tsunade stared at the empty road where the orange blur had vanished.
"He's an idiot," she whispered. "Just like him."
Jiraiya smiled sadly. "Yeah. He's got Minato's hair, but—"
"Not Minato," Tsunade interrupted.
She closed her eyes.
She wasn't seeing the Fourth Hokage. She wasn't seeing the Flash.
She was seeing a boy with brown hair and a grin that was too big for his face. A boy who ran into danger without thinking. A boy who shouted about being Hokage until his voice was hoarse. A boy who would bet everything on a dream.
Nawaki.
The ghost overlay was perfect. The loudness. The stubborn jaw. The stupid, reckless need to protect everyone.
"He thinks he can do the impossible in a week," Tsunade murmured.
She poured another drink. Her hand trembled slightly, the bottle clinking against the rim of the cup.
"One week," she whispered to the night air. "Let's see if he survives one week."
Because if he doesn't, she thought, the despair rising up to choke her, then Orochimaru is right. And everything I love is destined to rot.