The sun had barely crested the Hokage Monument, and already, Tsunade was witnessing an event rarer than a peaceful day in the Ninja World Archives: Azula was asking her for something.
She mentally rifled through the files of her memory. The last time Azula had approached her with a request that didn't involve sparring or a pointed critique of her chakra control had been… well, nearly two years ago.
It had been for a specific, volatile sealing formula, if she recalled correctly. The resulting explosion had been quite educational.
And now, this. An invitation. Not a summons, not a demand, but a seemingly casual, "Would you care to join me for a tour of the village?"
The request was so disarmingly normal it practically screamed, "I NEED A MAJOR FAVOR!"
Strangely, Tsunade found herself looking forward to it. A tour of Konoha? She hadn't played tourist in her own village since… well, since her sandals were a smaller size.
It beat staring at budget reports, which was a form of psychological warfare she was currently losing.
Azula, being Azula, was, of course, impeccably punctual. She arrived at the stroke of the appointed hour, looking as if she'd been teleported into existence precisely at Tsunade's doorstep.
But as Tsunade observed her, a familiar, nagging sensation tickled her instincts—the same feeling she got when a poker opponent was trying to bluff with a pair of twos.
Azula was a fortress of self-assurance, a person who considered asking for directions a sign of moral failing. Trouble never showed on her face; that flawless mask of composure was her masterpiece.
Instead, it leaked out in the subtleties: the microscopic hesitation in a step, the almost imperceptible tightening of a jaw.
This mansion was practically her second home; there was a full year where she'd practically taken up residence for specialized training. She knew where every loose floorboard groaned and which shadows the dust bunnies favored.
Yet, today, she stood with the faint, almost undetectable aura of someone who had forgotten how to stand in a room they knew by heart.
It was the social equivalent of a single, barely-there hair out of place on her otherwise perfectly coiffed head.
Or, Tsunade thought, taking a slow sip of her morning… well, it wasn't tea, she had just read one too many paranoid intel reports and was now seeing conspiracies in casual wear.
Regardless of the reason, she knew one thing for certain: today was going to be far more entertaining than any stack of paperwork.
"What is funny?" Azula asked, her voice slicing through the silence. The question felt less like genuine curiosity and more like a tactical strike to dispel the awkwardness she was so clearly feeling.
Tsunade just offered a lazy shrug.
"Nothing. It's just that your new style looks cool." And it was true. She was so accustomed to seeing Azula armored in the severe, sharp-lined uniform of the Police Force that the sight of her in casual, daily-life attire was almost jarring.
It was like seeing a legendary sword displayed in a cozy knit sheath.
Deciding to lean into the weirdness, Tsunade changed the subject with the grace of a summoning slug. "So, how about it? What's the verdict on your new titles? Do you prefer 'The Goddess of the Second Sun,' or does 'The Crimson Empress' have a better ring to it?"
She already knew the answer. Azula didn't care for grandiose labels unless they contained the one thing she valued above all: her own name. "Crimson Azula" worked.
Anything else was just background noise. For some reason Tsunade had never quite grasped, the girl placed an almost mystical importance on her name, as if it were a secret seal holding back her true power.
Azula waved a dismissive hand, a flicker of amusement in her gold-flecked eyes.
"It's not a big deal. It should be something like my 30th title. But yours… 'Cow-woman'…" A snort escaped her, then another, until she was letting out a short, sharp burst of laughter. "Pfft! Hahaha!!"
Tsunade immediately felt the heat rush to her face. She had, in a moment of spectacularly poor judgment, steered the conversation directly into a ditch of her own making.
She made a silent, fervent vow: the next time she saw the Mizukage, she was going to punch him so hard his ancestors would feel it. That sore loser was clearly still holding a grudge.
"Hmph! These people have the artistic sensibility of a concussed toad," Tsunade grumbled, not even bothering to hide her thoughts. "It's definitely that water-logged weasel of a Mizukage, spreading rumors because he's still salty. I'll make every ninja from the Hidden Mist understand why they shouldn't provoke Tsunade."
Azula's smile was a sly, knowing thing. "Hehe, but you really must admit, you need to speed up your training. While I can… understand… your dedication to medical knowledge and that frankly terrifying development of yours, I hope you can put it on hold. You need to concentrate on reaching a baseline Kage-level normal strength as soon as possible."
Tsunade looked at her, curiosity officially piqued. "Oh? Don't tell me you actually believe the new rumors about a war brewing? According to my estimations—we have a solid three years of peace. Plenty of time for me to power up without having to skip my research."
Azula had always been like this; a power-generating furnace in human form. Anyone who truly knew her understood she was in a perpetual state of seeking more strength, as if her current earth-shattering level was merely "adequate."
But she was never the type to nag others to do the same. This was new.
With a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand complicated scrolls, Azula replied, "That, in fact, is the very reason I came to you. The current situation is complicated. Let's just say there's a reason the war will start much, much earlier than your estimations predict. And when it does, we will need your fists more than your forceps."
Tsunade was taken aback. Her eyebrows tried to climb into her hairline.
"Oi, are you being serious right now?" she asked, utterly perplexed. What shadowy game was Azula playing now? "Did you stumble into some secret? Spill it."
The truth was, Azula had never been an open book. Not to Tsunade, not to anyone, really—except perhaps Lady Mito. It wasn't strictly a question of trust.
Azula knew, on some level, that her father and mother would likely accept even the most bizarre truth about her. No, it was something else. It was the sheer, mind-bending complication of it all. How do you explain that you have memories of your past lives?
Then there were people like Ayane. Capable, but ultimately fragile Ayane. Loading a weak vessel with world-shattering secrets was a surefire way to get it sunk.
Anyone wanting to get to Azula would go through her, using a simple Genjutsu to make her spill everything she knew.
And if an old monster like Madara ever got his hands on her and learned about the… meta-knowledge… well, that wouldn't be self-destructing; that would be arming the enemy with the blueprint to your own annihilation.
It was almost the same with Tsunade before, but now she was strong. Just… not strong enough.
In Azula's ruthless calculus, Tsunade needed to hit a minimum threshold—a solid Kage-level—before she could be trusted with the real secrets.
A sly, almost predatory glint entered Azula's eyes. "How about a bargain? The quicker you manage to reach Kage-level, the quicker I will tell you… let's say, 40% of my biggest secret. A secret only one other person in this entire world, apart from me, knows."
She paused, letting the tantalizing offer hang in the air like a ripe fruit. "But… I want to do something that will require your specific expertise. Tell me, how much do you know about the Mangekyou Sharingan?"
Tsunade's brain, which had been firmly latched onto the '40% of a world-shattering secret' part (who doesn't want to know their cool friend's deepest, darkest mystery?), was forcibly yanked into a new lane of thought.
"The Mangekyou?" she blinked. "It's the legendary stage beyond the Three-Tomoe Sharingan. The eyes that Madara Uchiha used to contend with my grandfather on a level that redefined the word 'battlefield.'"
Azula wasn't surprised. The fact that Madara's eyes were not the Mangekyou but the Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan was the Uchiha Clan's most guarded heirloom, a secret buried so deep it was practically geological.
To the outside world, Madara simply had a super-powered Mangekyou that didn't go blind. The "how" was one of the Shinobi World's great mysteries.
"Madara's eyes were the Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan," Azula clarified, launching into a lecture she'd clearly rehearsed. "What I'm referring to is the base Mangekyou, also known as the Kaleidoscope Eyes, or as I prefer, the 'Eyes of the Soul.' They typically awaken through… profound trauma."
"The death of a loved one, a worldview shattered into a million pieces—that sort of thing. Upon awakening, they grant two unique Dojutsu, born from the very essence of the user's soul."
She then let out a sigh that was almost… theatrical. "The problem is that every time you use their power, you burn through your vision. Use them too much, and you're left with utterly useless white eyes."
"The only way to fix this is to evolve them into the Eternal Mangekyou, a feat accomplished exactly once, by accident, by Madara himself."
She paused, her gaze turning inward. "And while I theoretically could replicate the process… there are certain compelling reasons why I am… hesitating."
In truth, her mind was racing down a far more ambitious and terrifying path. She was wildly curious.
After she had finished saturating her body with enough Yang Chakra after awakening the Mangekyou and refined her bloodline to near-mythic completion… what would happen if she then transplanted her father's Mangekyou?
Would her body, brimming with life force, trigger an evolution beyond the Eternal? And if that new, ultimate Uchiha eye then merged with the Asura chakra already humming through the Hashirama cells she'd… acquired… what would it become?
The legendary Rinnegan? Or something entirely new, something the world had never seen before?
(END OF THE CHAPTER)
To be honest, I have encountered too many things that stopped me writing today, sorry but here's the chapter although I planned publishing two chapters a day for the next two weeks.