The private examination room was brightly lit and cold.
Pale walls reflected the harsh hospital light, while the scent of antiseptic herbs lingered in the air. Metal instruments rested across a tray beside Tsunade, each one placed with deliberate care.
Shorai sat at the center of the room with his upper body exposed, his back turned toward her.
The chill of the room settled against his skin.
Behind him, Tsunade arranged another instrument.
Clink.
The quiet sound of metal against metal filled the silence.
"Lady Tsunade," Shorai began at last, "I know my actions may seem reckless, innovative, foolish, and perhaps even wise—all at once."
"I heard that," Tsunade replied flatly.
Shorai's lips twitched faintly.
"The risks you described are not unknown to me. I did not create Perfect Body Revival while ignoring them."
His eyes lowered.
"Especially the rejuvenation aspect. Restoring exhausted cells. Returning damaged tissue to an earlier, healthier state."
He paused.
"A mistake in focus or chakra control could turn restoration into something else. Uncontrolled division. Mutation. Harmful growth."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Cancer.
The word remained in his mind.
It was a term the shinobi world did not yet use. Even most medical texts in Konoha did not fully understand the mechanisms behind such conditions.
Yet Shorai did.
Not perfectly. Not with the knowledge of a modern specialist.
But he had known enough from his previous life to understand the danger. Six years of accelerated study—made possible by the inherent cognitive boost of his Lightning affinity and countless hours in the Library—had given him something more. He had studied old medical scrolls, battlefield reports, anatomy texts, chakra-pathway research, and every healing theory the shinobi world had preserved.
Perfect Body Revival had not appeared without scrutiny. Once its foundation had taken shape, Shorai had tested it repeatedly through simulation before attempting it on his own body. He had studied every restorative cycle he could identify, compared its behavior to established medical principles, and built safeguards around the parts he could understand.
It worked—every simulation and controlled application had confirmed that.
But a working result was not the same as complete comprehension.
'That does not mean I understand every consequence.'
"Shorai."
Tsunade's voice cut through his thoughts.
"My Creation Rebirth has a similar foundation to yours."
Her tone was calm.
Too calm.
"Yet you continue acting like a fool."
"I am trying to say that I am careful," Shorai replied. "My safety is a priority. I would not develop or use the jutsu if I believed it would destroy me."
Tsunade interrupted him.
"You seem determined not to let this point go."
She moved closer.
"Then I will share some details. Perhaps a comparison will finally make you understand."
Shorai remained silent.
"We agreed to be honest, did we not?"
Tsunade's voice remained controlled, but the sternness beneath it was impossible to miss.
"Your Yang Release is more advanced than my restorative jutsu."
Shorai's attention sharpened.
"Unheard of. Revolutionary."
The metal tray clicked softly as Tsunade set an instrument down.
"You are knocking on Heaven's door, boy."
He could feel her gaze against his back.
"Creation Rebirth was not something I developed in a day. Or a year."
Her voice grew quieter.
"I studied. I researched. I tested my theories carefully and slowly. I failed more times than I care to remember."
Tsunade rested one hand against the table.
"Over the years, I combined medical ninjutsu, chakra control, anatomy, and fuinjutsu. The Strength of a Hundred Seal is not merely a reservoir of chakra."
Shorai turned his head slightly.
"It is an isolated reserve," Tsunade continued. "A system designed to hold chakra separate from my normal circulation until the moment I need it."
Her eyes met his.
"When I release it, the stored chakra performs the restoration process automatically. I do not need to direct every repair manually while I am fighting."
She gave a small, humorless smile.
"Push the button. Then push it again when the battle is over."
Shorai listened closely.
"After decades of work," Tsunade continued, "after years of medical practice and field testing, I created a technique I could trust to operate when I am too injured, too exhausted, or too occupied to guide every movement of chakra myself."
Her expression tightened.
"And then a twelve-year-old boy arrives with a technique that claims to restore exhausted and dying cells."
Her fingers curled against the edge of the table.
"Cells that should have reached their limit. Cells that should no longer be able to recover."
Her gaze hardened.
"And you are telling me that you can force them back into function?"
She paused.
"Do you understand why I am having trouble remaining calm?"
Shorai said nothing.
"You have spent what?" Tsunade continued. "Five years? Six?"
Her brow twitched.
"It is ridiculous even to say aloud."
For a brief moment, disbelief overtook her stern expression.
"Fine. Let us assume your unique body, your inherited traits, your talent, and your absurd capacity for study accelerated your comprehension."
Her golden eyes narrowed.
"Let us assume you are a prodigy in medicine who appears once in a century."
Her lips twitched.
"Or once in a millennium."
The disbelief faded.
Worry returned.
"What you have achieved is staggering, Shorai."
Then Tsunade's voice hardened.
"But that is not the part that worries me most."
She stepped directly behind him.
"What worries me is your application in combat."
The room seemed colder.
"You need to maintain focus."
Her voice sharpened.
"You need to guide the jutsu manually."
Another step.
"And you need to do so on a battlefield where nothing is controlled."
Her words struck with the precision of a scalpel.
"You will be injured. You will be moving. You will be spending chakra. You will be reacting to an enemy. And you may be attempting to use Swift Release at the same time."
Tsunade's tone lowered.
"That is not bravery, Shorai."
"It is an invitation for a mistake."
Shorai's eyes remained lowered.
"You told me yourself that Perfect Body Revival demands constant focus and an enormous chakra supply."
"Yes," Shorai said quietly.
"It is not an optional technique. It is a requirement layered on top of everything else you do."
Tsunade folded her arms.
"So show me why you believe this is acceptable."
For a few seconds, Shorai did not move.
Then he reached toward the clothes folded beside him.
His fingers slipped beneath one of his handguards and brushed the discreet seal woven into its inner layer.
Beside the layered alert pattern designed to sense the Mind Stone's energy, several other unique seals had been woven into the guard.
A small pulse of awareness passed through him as the seal recognized his chakra and granted access.
Only then did Shorai withdraw a scroll from the concealed sealing space.
"Here."
He placed it into Tsunade's waiting hand.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Look for yourself," Shorai said. "Perfect Body Revival is forbidden at its core. I know that."
Tsunade unrolled the scroll.
"But Yin Release can turn a manual process into a conditioned one," Shorai continued. "Not fully automatic. Not like your seal."
He turned toward her.
"But it can reduce the amount of conscious control required."
Tsunade's eyes moved across the scroll.
Her expression changed repeatedly.
Shock.
Concern.
A frown of concentration.
Then surprise again.
"What is this…" she muttered.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the paper.
"Ridiculous."
She read further.
"Monster…"
Her voice lowered.
"I cannot fully understand all of this."
Shorai remained quiet.
Tsunade pointed to a detailed diagram in the center of the scroll.
"This image. Is this a diagram of your body?"
Shorai nodded.
"It is an internal model," he said. "A chakra map based on my body, my pathways, my organs, my circulation, and the way my Yang nature responds."
"It is not as refined as the version I developed later, but it was the first stable model I could use to guide Perfect Body Revival safely."
Tsunade studied the diagram again.
"It guides the chakra?"
"Yes."
"It tells the restorative chakra where to settle, how much to use, and what pattern it should follow?"
"Yes."
Tsunade's gaze lifted.
"And that is what binds the technique together."
"Partially."
Shorai looked toward the scroll.
"The foundation is what I call an inner healing layer."
Tsunade said nothing.
"Yin Release is not only illusion," Shorai explained. "At its essence, it gives shape to intention."
His tone became more thoughtful.
"A medic uses chakra control, medical knowledge, and focus to guide healing. I added a structured internal image to that process. A memorized model, repeated until chakra recognizes it as a familiar path."
Tsunade's attention did not leave him.
"It is not as secure as an encoded fuinjutsu seal," Shorai admitted. "Not as reliable as your Creation Rebirth."
"But it is practical."
"A semi-automatic process," Tsunade said.
"For now."
A faint half-smile touched Shorai's lips.
Tsunade looked down at the scroll again.
Then her eyes stopped on another section.
"What are these terms?"
She touched a set of notes written in smaller script.
"Biofeedback. Cellular limit response. Error-state containment."
Shorai watched her expression carefully.
"I created the terms to shorten larger processes," he said. "Biofeedback means the technique reads the body's response as it works."
Tsunade's brow rose faintly.
"It listens to changes in chakra flow, pain response, tissue strain, and cellular instability. If the restoration begins to move outside the intended pattern, the inner layer redirects the chakra or stops the process."
Tsunade's gaze returned to the notes.
"And 'error-state containment'?"
"A safeguard."
Shorai's expression sobered.
"If a cell begins to restore incorrectly, the technique isolates the affected area from the broader restorative cycle."
He paused.
"I call it a bug state."
Tsunade gave him a flat look.
"A bug?"
"It was the first name that came to mind."
"Hm."
Her eyes moved to a line near the bottom of the page.
Then she read aloud.
"Potential error-state: excessive reuse of overworked cellular structures. Do not force temporal restoration beyond stable identity."
Tsunade looked up slowly.
"Explain this."
Shorai's gaze became serious.
"Cells divide. They grow, repair damage, and eventually lose efficiency. The body has limits."
He spoke carefully, choosing words she could understand without needing a modern medical education.
"If I force the process too far, I am no longer simply restoring healthy function. I am trying to make the body repeat a state it has already passed."
Tsunade's eyes narrowed.
"And?"
"And a mistake could create abnormal growth."
Shorai's voice was quiet.
"Cells that divide when they should stop. Cells that forget their proper role. A harmful mass that consumes the body instead of restoring it."
Tsunade went still.
"A tumor," she said after a moment.
"Yes."
Shorai gave a small nod.
"In the terminology I use, it is cancer."
Tsunade's eye twitched. She looked up at him, visibly puzzled.
"What is with these strange animal terms of yours?"
Shorai blinked once.
"They are merely labels."
"Hmph."
Then she lowered her gaze to the scroll.
"And this part?" she asked. "The diagram's root. This term—DNA."
Shorai watched her closely.
"It is the deepest inherited blueprint inside a body," he said. "The information that tells cells what they are meant to become and how they are meant to function."
"Like a bloodline?"
"Not exactly. A bloodline is one expression of it."
He hesitated briefly.
"Every body has a foundational pattern. Blood, bone, organs, pathways, physical traits. The inherited information exists beneath all of it."
Tsunade's eyes moved slowly over the scroll.
"The diagram encodes that information?"
"Only the part I understand well enough to use safely."
Shorai's tone remained calm.
"The inner healing layer memorizes the pattern. It reminds my chakra what it is trying to restore."
"And if something does not match?"
"It stops."
His eyes sharpened.
"Or it is supposed to stop."
That answer made Tsunade's gaze rise immediately.
"Supposed to?"
"Every controlled use has worked perfectly on me," Shorai said. "That does not mean I will treat its safeguards as absolute."
For several seconds, Tsunade said nothing.
Then she read through the scroll again—more slowly this time.
Her earlier shock changed.
Not into comfort.
Into something deeper.
A cautious, unsettled understanding.
"If your body can continue restoring itself this way, provided it has chakra…"
She did not finish the thought.
But Shorai understood.
"Immortality?" she whispered.
"No."
His response came immediately.
Firm.
Cold enough to cut through the room.
Tsunade blinked.
"No?" she repeated.
Shorai shifted from the examination chair and stepped beside Tsunade, pointing to the diagram on the scroll.
"Even if it appears to defy Heaven itself, it would still be false immortality."
Tsunade watched him carefully.
"What do you mean?"
Shorai stared at the diagram in her hands.
"A body that heals endlessly is still dependent on something."
He traced a small circle around the diagram, then tapped the notes beside it.
"Chakra. Concentration. A functioning body. A stable mind. Time. Circumstance."
He raised his eyes toward Tsunade.
"Remove the energy. Break the focus. Destroy the pattern. Damage the mind. The body fails."
Tsunade remained silent.
"That is not immortality," Shorai continued. "It is only a prolonged life held together by conditions."
His voice grew quieter.
'The body is a vessel. A form.'
'It is not the self.'
He did not speak the next thought immediately.
The Reality Stone pulsed faintly, hidden far beyond Tsunade's senses.
'True immortality…'
'Not a body that refuses to age. Not stolen years. Not a cycle of replacements.'
'It would be the self remaining whole.'
'A will strong enough to remain present even when its form is lost.'
'A spirit that knows itself so completely that no death, no destruction, and no outside force can erase it.'
'The body may change. The world may change.'
'Reality itself may change.'
'But the self continues.'
He exhaled slowly.
"True immortality would not need to cling to flesh," he said at last. His eyes drifted aside, distant with thought. "It would be the continuation of the self."
Tsunade's gaze narrowed slightly.
"That is a dangerous philosophy for a child. How did you even conceive it?"
"It is dangerous for anyone," Shorai replied. "That is why a person must first know themselves before they try to transcend themselves."
His faint smile returned.
"The self can be the strongest shield a person has."
Then it faded.
"Or the weapon that destroys them."
"I intend to remain myself. What I say, I will prove through my actions."
Tsunade looked at him for a long moment.
"You speak as though you have thought about death far too often."
Shorai's eyes turned briefly toward the window.
"Perhaps I have."
She did not press him.
Instead, her gaze lowered to the scroll in his hands.
"This method…" Tsunade said slowly. "It looks like an attempt to reach toward that same goal."
Her gaze sharpened.
"Like Orochimaru."
Shorai's face cooled.
"Orochimaru seeks to preserve himself by replacing the vessel," Shorai said. "He harms and exploits those around him in any way necessary for his own continuation."
His voice was controlled.
"More time. More bodies. More methods to avoid the end. Yet his survival remains dependent on something outside himself."
Tsunade's eyes hardened.
"A new body. A forbidden ritual. Another victim."
"Yes."
Shorai nodded.
"It is a different road toward the same false answer."
The room returned to silence.
Then Tsunade stepped closer.
"Whatever you call it," she said, "this knowledge could ruin the world in the wrong hands."
Shorai looked at her.
"It will remain classified."
"Not merely classified."
Tsunade's voice was firm.
"Restricted. Compartmentalized. No one sees this scroll without my approval."
She quickly rolled it up.
"No hospital archive. No general medical record. No council report. No elder's curiosity. No Root operative. No one."
Her expression turned hard.
"If someone learns the full extent of what your body can do, they will not see a child."
"They will see a resource."
Shorai nodded once, his expression tinged with playfulness.
"You are the first person to see it in this detail, Lady Tsunade."
A small half-smile appeared on his face.
"I feel rather exposed."
Tsunade raised an eyebrow.
"What is this?"
Her lips curved faintly.
"You had better not be copying Jiraiya's behavior."
Shorai's brief playfulness faded, and he shook his head.
"Why would I copy a man who cannot speak honestly when it matters?"
Tsunade's expression paused.
Shorai continued.
"Jiraiya-san hides behind jokes, research, and shamelessness. But he is not as shallow as he pretends to be."
Tsunade's eyes narrowed.
"You are becoming bold, brat."
"Perhaps."
Shorai looked at the scroll in her hand with a faint smile.
"I spent enough time travelling with him to notice that some things make him quieter than others."
For a moment, Tsunade looked away.
Then she clicked her tongue.
"Hmph."
She looked at the scroll.
"Enough talk. I intend to examine you now."
Tsunade's gaze sharpened.
"Talking around the problem will not make me drop this. The Hokage's paperwork can wait. I can spend the entire day examining you if I must, boy."
Shorai gave a soft chuckle.
"My apologies, Wisest Big Sister."
Tsunade looked pleased despite herself.
"Good to hear that."
She picked up one of the instruments.
"I had begun to miss it."
Shorai turned and sat again.
A few seconds later, cold metal touched the skin of his shoulder.
Then Tsunade's chakra entered his body.
It was precise.
Clinical.
Invasive.
Shorai closed his eyes.
His awareness expanded through his own pathways, following the careful movement of Tsunade's chakra.
At the same time, he remained prepared.
The Reality Stone stayed concealed beneath layers of chakra, instinct, and inner space.
If Tsunade somehow approached it—if her chakra sensed anything that did not belong—he would hide its trace immediately.
Time passed slowly.
Tsunade changed methods several times.
Her fingers pressed against his shoulders, arms, waist, spine, and eventually the base of his skull. Her chakra moved through muscles, blood, organs, pathways, and the fine network surrounding his brain.
Shorai did not interrupt.
He focused on every shift in her chakra, every change in pressure, every moment she paused longer than usual.
At last, Tsunade withdrew her hand.
"Hm."
Silence followed.
"Am I going to live?" Shorai asked.
Tsunade did not answer immediately.
Then she spoke quietly.
"For now, I can guarantee you will live past twenty."
Shorai turned his head slightly.
"You sound worried."
Tsunade stared at him.
"Your body carries only faint traces of your previous experiments."
Shorai listened.
"Other than that, you are healthy."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Too healthy."
She moved closer again, studying him as though he were an impossible diagnosis.
"No accelerated aging. No lasting pathway strain. No organ damage. No signs of uncontrolled cellular restoration."
Her voice became quieter.
"You are youthful, stable, and physically intact."
Tsunade released a slow breath.
"I admit it, Shorai."
"This shocks me."
"May I dress now?" he asked.
"You may."
Tsunade began gathering the instruments.
A few minutes later, Shorai stood fully dressed in his combat-ready attire, checking the fit of his handguards and jacket.
Tsunade turned the scroll in her hands.
"I want to study this."
"I will prepare a copy," Shorai said. "One with a limited, safe framework for the theory."
Tsunade nodded and handed the scroll back to him.
"Good."
Her eyes moved toward him.
"Are you going to use Perfect Body Revival in your new training?"
"Not at this stage."
Shorai shook his head.
"I am working on a precise adjustment of my body and chakra pathways. No sharp acceleration. No sudden damage. Swift Release will have to wait."
Tsunade's expression relaxed by a fraction.
"Good."
Then her tone turned serious once more.
"Tell me before you begin practicing that Kekkei Genkai again."
"I will, Lady Tsunade."
"Do not make me regret trusting you."
Shorai offered her a warm smile.
"I will not."
Tsunade gave him one last measuring look.
"Go."
She turned toward the medical files waiting on the side table.
"My team needs to be ready as soon as possible."
Shorai bowed and left the hospital.
—
By the time he stepped outside, the afternoon sun had lowered over Konoha.
The air was cool, carrying the dry scent of autumn leaves through the streets.
Tsunade's words lingered in his mind as he moved.
'Powerful enough to be dangerous.'
'Not safe enough to trust.'
'Not yet.'
'Let's not disrupt the plan unless I have no other choice.'
Instead of using Swift Release, he relied on ordinary Shunshin, moving across the village roofs in controlled bursts of chakra. Before long, he reached the secluded training ground hidden beyond Konoha's busier paths.
He checked the defensive seals around the area.
One by one, the barrier markers responded.
Stable.
Untouched.
Shorai placed several additional tags around the perimeter, then formed a hand seal.
Two identical figures appeared in white smoke.
Whimsical stretched dramatically, arching his back as though he had been trapped in a cramped room for days.
"Finally," he said with a long sigh. "I thought the moment would never come."
Stoic stood quietly beside him, his arms folded.
"Stillness through simulation first, then physical practice?" Whimsical asked. "And we use the same structure for Water Release?"
"Yes," Shorai replied. "We build the calm state of mind and the elemental flow separately first. Only then do we learn to enter and leave that state while using our abilities."
Whimsical nodded.
"Then we split it. One part trains the state of mind. One part works on elemental affinity."
"I see you have another plan," Stoic said, his gaze fixed on Shorai.
Shorai smiled.
"For you, buddy."
Stoic's expression did not change.
"Your task is to replenish our weaponry, then equip it with Kinetic Battery Seals and sharpen our fuinjutsu. That way, you will not complain to me again about being under-equipped."
His smile sharpened.
"If inspiration strikes, improve whatever you can."
"It took you long enough," Stoic replied.
His eyes narrowed.
"And you still have not found a way to learn the Shadow Shuriken Technique."
"You know I have limited free time and only so many hands," Shorai said.
"Soon."
Stoic stared at him.
"No rush," Shorai added.
"That attitude is what irritates me about you."
Stoic stepped closer and stretched one arm.
"Fine. I will do the dirty work."
He gave Shorai another flat look, then held out his hand, palm up.
"My money, buddy. Materials are not going to leap into my arms because of my looks. They are not cheap."
Shorai nodded.
"Fair."
Stoic turned and headed toward the village's weapon and supply district.
Once he was gone, Shorai faced Whimsical.
The other clone smirked.
"Finally. Some real training."
Shorai reached inward.
The Reality Stone responded.
A subtle distortion moved through the air as he formed a link to the Soul Space.
"You will train Water transformation," Shorai said. "Stability, form, movement, and stillness."
Whimsical listened more seriously now.
"We have trained Water Release before," Shorai continued. "But now it must become part of our natural chakra flow."
He held Whimsical's gaze.
"You need to learn how Water settles inside us. How it responds when we guide it without forcing it."
Whimsical nodded.
"And you?"
"I will work on the mental state itself."
Shorai looked toward the rippling distortion that linked the Soul Space to Whimsical's physical form.
"Stillness. The state that must remain when everything around us moves."
A grin slowly appeared on Whimsical's face.
"Then we will make it ready for Wind in no time."
"Exactly."
Whimsical's grin became mischievous.
"You might start calling the moments when you collapse after training 'stillness.'"
Shorai stared at him.
"Begone."
Before Whimsical could laugh again, Shorai shoved him toward the warped patch of space.
Whimsical lost his footing and landed on his ass as the link seized his consciousness and drew it into the Soul Space. A Water Release training environment—and the guidance prepared for it—waited for him there.
Then Shorai followed, carrying Tsunade's warning with him into the quiet.