The atmosphere was somewhat heavy; only the lively chatter from several nearby tables and the sizzling of grilled meat broke the silence.
Shinichi quietly sipped his tea, not taking the initiative to speak.
He could tell that this legendary Sannin was in an extremely foul mood. She had definitely not come here simply to drink.
Sure enough, after downing two more cups, Tsunade lifted her eyes in a drunken haze and shot him a glance, tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Kid, tell me—what's so good about being a shinobi?"
"Working yourself to death, endless training, wrecking your body with injuries… in the end, for what? A few lousy missions and a bit of blood money? Or for those high-sounding principles that are nothing but nonsense?"
She took another gulp of alcohol, her gaze drifting toward the dim sky outside the window.
"Living every day with your head on the line, not knowing about tomorrow… maybe one day you'll die in some forgotten corner, rot away without anyone even collecting your corpse! Comrades? Hah! The comrades you drink with today might be nothing more than a name carved on a stone tomorrow…"
Her tone grew heavier and heavier. Rather than questioning Shinichi, she seemed to be interrogating herself—interrogating the profession she had once fought for, and now only wished to escape.
Shinichi remained silent and did not immediately respond.
He could sense that Tsunade's words were not aimed at him. Long-suppressed emotions had simply found an outlet through the haze of alcohol; he was merely the listener who happened to be sitting across from her.
Seeing that Shinichi did not answer, Tsunade suddenly leaned closer. Her alcohol-laden breath nearly washed over his face. "And you? Kid, why do you want to be a shinobi? You, this great genius—why are you working so desperately at training every single day?"
Without waiting for his reply, as if she had already decided on the answer, her voice suddenly rose sharply, carrying an almost mocking certainty. "You want to become Hokage, don't you? Hahaha! That's it, it has to be! Kids your age—your heads are filled with nothing but dreams of Hokage or hero fantasies… You think once you become a shinobi, you'll soon be famous across the shinobi world, admired by thousands, right?"
The alcohol hitting his face made Shinichi's brows tighten almost imperceptibly. He leaned back slightly, putting a bit of distance between them. "Tsunade-sama, you're drunk."
"I'm not drunk!"
Tsunade slammed the table hard, bowls and dishes clattering loudly and drawing the attention of nearby diners.
She paid no heed, her voice growing even louder and sharper from agitation and alcohol. "Am I wrong? Hokage? It's a damn worthless position! Only naïve fools and brainwashed idiots would want it! And that so-called Will of Fire… burning yourself to illuminate others? Just pretty words to fool ghosts! It's a curse that makes people willingly go to their deaths!"
"Tsunade-sama!"
Shinichi abruptly sprang to his feet. The chair legs scraped harshly against the floor as he cut off Tsunade's increasingly out-of-control outburst.
"Although I don't know what exactly you ran into today, or why you're in such a mood, please know when to stop! I absolutely will not allow you to insult the Hokage like that, or insult the village's inherited Will of Fire!"
"What, brat—you want to teach me a lesson?" Tsunade tilted her head to glance at him. Her body swayed a little from the alcohol as she let out a cold laugh.
Facing one of the famed Sannin, Shinichi did not back down. Staring straight into her eyes, he said, "The Hokage is the pillar of the village—the banner of Konohagakure! The Will of Fire is a flame personally ignited by the First Hokage-sama, and only because countless predecessors used their blood and lives as kindling has it been passed down to this day! It's also why every name on the Memorial Stone was willing—"
"Shut up!"
It was as if something sharp had stabbed her. Even the drunken haze on her face was washed away a little by violent emotion, replaced by an expression mixed with intense irritation and even fury.
"It's not your place, you little brat, to lecture me! What do you know? What have you seen? You don't know a damn thing!"
Agitated, she reached for the wine bottle on the table, but her fingers closed on empty air.
Shinichi had already moved first, taking the bottle away and placing it at the far corner of the table, out of her reach.
"Give me the alcohol!" Tsunade stared at him, her voice pressed down with anger.
Shinichi shook his head, his tone calm but firm. "Tsunade-sama, you're drunk. You really can't drink anymore."
"I said I'm not drunk!"
Shinichi still shook his head.
Seeing that, Tsunade laughed. Her eyes narrowed slightly, revealing a dangerous edge.
"You little—are you really trying to oppose me?"
Shinichi shook his head again. "Tsunade-sama, you are the First and Second Hokage-sama's granddaughter, the Third Hokage-sama's disciple, and a hero of Konohagakure. Every word you say here—even if it's just something you blurt out while drunk—once it gets out will turn into rumors and gossip and bring a huge negative impact to the village."
"I said it! Don't lecture me!!!"
Tsunade's patience seemed to be completely spent. The emotions she had been bottling up, together with her drunkenness, exploded all at once. She suddenly slammed a fist toward the table in front of her.
However, a palm flashed up in the split second between her fist and the tabletop.
Bang!!!
A dull, massive boom. After two enormous forces collided and canceled out within the span of inches, the shockwave that burst out flipped the bowls, dishes, cups, and plates on several nearby tables all at once with a crash.
The nearby diners and the shop owner turned pale with fright, retreating again and again as they stared in horror at the terrifying scene before them.
The drunken haze in Tsunade's eyes faded somewhat, replaced by undisguised shock. She was astonished that the boy in front of her had managed to catch her punch. Although she had not used her monstrous strength, the force behind it was by no means trivial.
Under Tsunade's astonished gaze, Shinichi slowly and firmly lifted her fist away from the tabletop.
"Tsunade-sama." He glanced around before speaking. His voice was not loud, yet it rang clearly through the shop, which had fallen silent. "Didn't you ask me earlier why I want to become a shinobi, why I work so desperately?"
"I'm an orphan. The village raised me, and for that I am deeply grateful."
"Ever since I can remember, I would often see the adults around me with worry and sorrow on their faces. The companions who played with me in the courtyard would, every so often, be joined by a few timid new faces, while some familiar smiling faces never appeared again."
"Later, I gradually came to understand that at that time the shinobi world was still at war. Fighting was constantly taking place outside the village. They were worrying about relatives and friends on the front lines, and those new playmates were children who had lost their parents."
Shinichi withdrew his gaze and let it settle once more on Tsunade's face. His eyes were clear and open.
"At that time, I wondered—what protected children like me, who grew up safely in the village? What made those adults keep living and working hard every day, even when they were afraid and grieving? Later, I understood. It was the seniors risking their lives on the front lines—Hatake Sakumo, Orochimaru, Jiraiya, Tsunade, Nawaki, Katō Dan…"
The more Tsunade listened, the wider her eyes grew. Most of the drunkenness had already faded from her face. When the names "Nawaki" and "Katō Dan" were spoken clearly from Shinichi's mouth, it was as if she had been viciously stabbed by an invisible needle. She abruptly cut him off.
"You! How do you know that?! Who told you?! Shizune?!"
Shinichi did not answer that question, as if it were unimportant. He simply continued in a steady tone, as though stating the most ordinary of facts: "It was countless seniors like them—people I had never seen and whose names I didn't even know—who used their lives as walls, keeping war and death outside the village and preserving the peace here."
"So from that time on, I made up my mind." Shinichi met Tsunade's astonished gaze calmly, his eyes carrying a settled, almost pure resolve. "I would become someone like them. I would grow strong enough—strong enough to protect those who come after us, just as the seniors who once protected the village and me did; to give more people a place where they can live in peace, no longer fearing for their lives every single day; to let this place that raised me have a little more quiet daily life and a little fewer tears of parting."
"This is why I became a shinobi—and why I keep striving to grow stronger!"
The barbecue restaurant fell into complete silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of charcoal.
Tsunade stared blankly at the boy before her—his features still youthful, yet his gaze already unusually calm and resolute. For a moment, she found herself unable to speak.
Shinichi slowly released the hand that had been bracing her fist and took half a step back. "So, Tsunade-sama, please think carefully. What you want to deny and mock is precisely what countless predecessors of Konohagakure—including your closest family and the one you loved, as well as the Slug Princess who brought hope of life to countless Konohagakure comrades in the last Great Shinobi War—risked their lives to protect."
With that, he said no more. Without looking at Tsunade's expression, he turned and walked straight out of the barbecue restaurant. His figure soon vanished into the snowy night beyond the doorway.
Something worth risking one's life to protect…
Tsunade watched the boy's departing back. Her lips moved slightly, but in the end it came out only as a faint murmur.
"Higashino… Shinichi…"
...
News that the Princess of Konohagakure—one of the Sannin, Tsunade-hime—had clashed with the recently rising genius Higashino Shinichi at a barbecue restaurant was like a small spark flaring up in the middle of winter.
Though the details were unclear, the rumor spread on its own, adding a subtle, indescribable ripple to the otherwise calm village.
People speculated about the cause. Had the genius's improper behavior angered his senior? Or had the Princess of Konohagakure, in a foul mood, taken out her frustration on him?
Opinions varied, yet no one had a definite answer.
And in the Hokage's Office, under the warm yellow light, the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, received the detailed report presented by the Anbu.
"…Sigh…"
Only after a long while did he let out a long, complicated sigh.
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