A few days later, Yugakure's remaining shinobi were already changing hands, its broken streets swarming with Konoha shinobi turning the smoldering ruin into their new forward base.
In a commandeered hall that once served as the village council chamber, Orochimaru and Ryusei stood across from each other.
"Your merits in the raid, your coordination during the chaos, and the way you contained Kumo's elites…" Orochimaru's thin lips curved. "They give me the freedom to shape your next assignment as I please. You'll be moving south."
Ryusei's slit-eyed expression didn't flicker, though his mind ticked instantly ahead.
"You'll take command of a company. Fifty men," Orochimaru continued, almost off-handed.
"Your two teammates, of course, will remain under you. Kanae and Renjiro are now your trusted lieutenants."
Ryusei gave a small nod. Internally, he acknowledged the obvious.
There was no way Orochimaru could justify sending just three genin-aged shinobi to another major front as "support".
But a company of fifty under an officially recognized commander, now that was logical.
Clean on the surface, and it gave Ryusei the freedom he needed.
Orochimaru went on, "Fugaku will decide where to station you. I don't care if he sticks you on the rear lines or throws you into the bloodiest marshland. What matters is that you represent my reinforcement, my goodwill. That's all."
His gaze sharpened. "What you make of it afterward… is up to you. But don't forget to bring me those... goods, you promised."
Orochimaru knew that while some of the Uchiha had been dispatched to this front as well, under him, the true clan elites, those with fully matured three-tomoe eyes, or estimated potential to awaken them later in life, were either clustered under Fugaku on his own battlefield or kept back in the village.
That meant acquiring an ordinary Sharingan here would not be difficult. After all, he was also purposefully following the Hokage faction's quiet directive, sending Uchiha into dangerous posts again and again, slowly bleeding their numbers during the war.
However, precisely because some within the clan might have sensed this to an extent, they were more careful with the true highest lifeblood of the clan.
Ryusei smirked faintly, lowering his head just enough to hide it. "Understood."
He didn't care where Fugaku shoved his unit.
With his own sensing, his counters to enemy trackers, his clones, etc, he could move freely anyway.
All he needed was the pretext of being there.
Orochimaru had just handed it to him.
They discussed a few more practical details, the supply routes, the handover of command, and the expected pace of march south.
Then Orochimaru waved him off with that languid flick of his fingers, already turning back to some experiment spread out behind him.
Ryusei left the chamber quietly, the scroll with his command orders tucked under his sleeve.
Soon, Yugakure would be their new hub after the last den had been torn apart.
But he wouldn't be here much longer.
First, he had to part with Tsunade one last time.
Then he'd find Kanae and Renjiro, gather his newly assigned company, and march them south.
Toward another front. Another board. Another chance.
From the high window of the commandeered hall, Orochimaru lingered, his pale face half-lit by torchlight.
He watched Ryusei's silhouette stride down the steps and vanish into the busy streets of occupied Yugakure.
A grin stretched slowly across his lips.
Chaos. Motion. Unpredictability.
That was what entertained him most.
He wondered what ripples Ryusei would leave behind now that he had unleashed him southward.
What effects would bleed into the Kirigakure front, into Fugaku's hands, into Konoha itself, and even beyond, to the wider shinobi world?
The thought amused him deeply.
Ryusei was cut from the same cloth as he was, constantly improving, evolving, pushed by pressure rather than broken by it.
That was the essence required to keep shattering ceilings, to keep climbing higher.
Would the boy truly grow enough, in one piece, to someday rival him?
Orochimaru's golden eyes narrowed with a glint of hunger.
"My greatest ally… or my greatest foe," he whispered to himself, the grin never fading. "Let fate decide."
Then his chuckle hissed low and soft, like scales against stone.
"The world is way more interesting with you in it, Ryusei… that is the truth."
***
The tent was quiet except for the faint flicker of an oil lamp and the steady hum of chakra.
Ryusei sat cross-legged on the floor in nothing but shorts, his upper body bare, the faint traces of ink and chakra-script glowing faintly across his skin.
For days now, Tsunade had been working carefully, layer by layer, transcribing the self-erasing fuinjutsu markings into his body.
Each session had been private, each one demanding precision and full access to his torso and head. It was necessary. That didn't make it any less ambiguous.
If it had been any other male in the world, she wouldn't have tolerated him in her tent at all. She would have thrown him out or killed him before he even stepped inside.
Yet with Ryusei, she allowed it. More than that, she insisted. After all, the Yin Seal couldn't be inscribed half-heartedly.
Every line, every formula, had to be etched perfectly through chakra manipulation and medical precision. That needed utmost privacy and so few clothes.
And so, for the last few days, he had periodically sat here bare-skinned under her hand.
Even she, despite her age, despite her control, had blushed more than once like a girl again.
And when that happened, she often covered it up by snapping at him, angry for no reason, only to return to her work a moment later with exaggerated focus.
Today was the final step.
Her glowing hand hovered over his forehead, weaving the last lines of the seal.
The faint light gathered at the center, blooming outward into the diamond shape that mirrored her own.
She leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing in satisfaction.
"It's done," she said at last. "The initial stage is complete."
Ryusei's hand twitched at his side, resisting the urge to touch the new mark.
"You'll have to finish it yourself over time," she continued, her tone shifting into the crispness of a teacher.
"Also, filling it with chakra slowly, steadily. Don't rush. If you do, it'll only collapse. Once it's full, the Yin Seal will be complete. I just helped you cut some corners in this way with my experience."
Her gaze lingered on his forehead, softer now. "This isn't just Yin, either. I adjusted it the way I did my own. It carries the Yang component for the essence of Creation Rebirth. When you finally release it, it'll bloom outward across your body the same way mine does, depending on how much chakra you pull from your Yin Seal. Until then, the markings will stay dormant while your body acclimates."
Ryusei absorbed every word silently.
"Test it," she said suddenly. "Activate the prototype version. Let me see."
He nodded and pushed a trickle of chakra into the mark.
For the first time, some black markings began to spread faintly from his forehead down his face, like ink branches unfurling across his skin.
Tsunade crossed her arms and smirked. "I forgot to make it golden, like you wanted. Seems you'll have to live with violet pink like mine."
Ryusei frowned and turned to the small mirror propped against the tent wall. His reflection stared back with the glowing mark. But it wasn't violet.
It was golden.
He blinked. "You're teasing me again."
Her smirk widened. "Maybe."
He chuckled, but his thoughts turned serious as he traced the lines with his eyes.
Only now did the full weight of it sink in, how much fuinjutsu knowledge was bound into this seal. This wasn't just medical ninjutsu. It was half fuinjutsu, half medical genius.
No wonder the Uzumaki had been the originators. Without that heritage of sealing, it could never have existed.
Which meant she wasn't the sole genius responsible for its creation, unlike with her other signature techniques. Heritage had also played its part.
She had explained to him earlier that the Yin Seal itself didn't produce the black markings; it just produced that glowing light when activated.
Those black markings came only when the Yang component was spreading more, pushed to the highest stage, during the Creation Rebirth, and the highest stage, which she called Mitotic Regeneration, when they spread all throughout the entire body.
The seal was the vessel. The markings, the bloom of Creation Rebirth.
Ryusei exhaled slowly. "So this is the first step."
"The hardest step," she corrected, stepping closer. Her hands glowed again, soothing away the residual burn of the seal's inscription. "The rest is discipline. You have to feed it every day. No exceptions."
He glanced at her, and for a moment, his grin softened. "You sound like you don't trust me."
"I don't," she shot back, but there was no heat in it.
For a moment, silence lingered in the tent.
Then she set her hands on her hips and sighed.
"You're leaving tomorrow."
"Yeah," Ryusei said quietly.
She hesitated, then stepped even closer, close enough that he caught her scent, faint and warm.
Her brow furrowed. "Do you really have to go?"
He gave a half-smile. "You know as well as I do it's the only logical step. But we'll meet soon."
Her lip caught between her teeth, plump, bitten in a way she didn't even realize.
She hated how it gave her away.
"…I could go with you now," she muttered, almost unreasonably.
He looked at her, and something warm flickered in his chest. He didn't show it.
"Not yet. But, don't worry, we will communicate through Katsuyu."
She exhaled, frustrated, but deep down she knew he was right.
She wasn't his equal in foresight. Not in cunning. She admitted that to herself.
Ryusei exhaled and let his shoulders relax.
For a moment, silence settled between them, broken only by the faint rustle of the tent in the wind. Then he rose to his feet, rolling his shoulders, still bare-chested.
Her jaw tightened, and she finally faced him again.
For all her pride, the faintest flicker of worry softened her eyes.
"…Then take care of yourself, brat. If you die, I'll drag you back just to kill you again."
Ryusei smirked. "I'll keep that in mind."
He reached for his shirt, but she stepped closer before he could pull it on, her hand pressing briefly against his chest, not to heal this time, but as if to just feel the steady rhythm of chakra moving beneath the newly etched seal.
For a heartbeat too long, she lingered, then pulled back abruptly.
"Tch. Still feels rough. Don't get cocky with it."
Ryusei's grin widened. "What, worried about me?"
Her fist snapped up and cracked him across the head before he could say more. "Don't push your luck."
He rubbed the sore spot, chuckling. "You're really bad at farewells, you know that?"
Silence stretched between them again.
Then Tsunade sighed, as if giving up the last of her resistance, and muttered, almost under her breath, "Just… come back in one piece. That's all I ask."
Ryusei's grin softened into something more genuine. "I'll hold you to that."
He finally tugged on his shirt and fastened his gear.
When he glanced back, she was still standing there, caught between pride and worry, her brow furrowed.
He gave her a small wave, deliberately casual. "See you soon. It won't be long before we meet again there, just a few months. Nothing will happen, in the meantime, I promise."
She didn't move, didn't smile, but her lip caught between her teeth again, just for a moment, before she turned away sharply.
"Go already. Before I change my mind and chain you here."
Ryusei smirked one last time and slipped out of the tent.
Tsunade stood there for a long moment after he left, staring at the empty space where he'd been, her hand brushing unconsciously against her forehead where her own seal rested.
She subconsciously felt that, piece by piece, more elements bound them together now naturally, the same seal etched into their foreheads, the same summoning contract written into their blood, for example. "…Troublesome brat," she muttered.
But her voice was softer now, heavy with something she didn't name.
"However," Ryusei's voice then suddenly drifted from outside the tent, and tinged with amusement, "if you ever miss me so badly, did you forget Katsuyu could always reverse-summon both of us to Shikkotsu Forest at the same time?"
Tsunade's first instinct was to snap back, to bark that she would never miss him, that the brat was getting too cheeky again. Or even "insolent" with those "ambiguous" wordings for some reason. But her tongue then stalled.
Instead, her eyes widened slightly as the thought clicked into place.
Why hadn't she considered this herself?
She had been too preoccupied with the front situation, with the idea of him leaving, with every other concern pressing down on her. She had overlooked something so simple.
'Damn it… Katsuyu should've reminded me,' she scolded inwardly, almost embarrassed.
If Ryusei held the same contract she did, then of course it could be arranged easily, as he said.
Not only that, but if he ever found himself in danger, Katsuyu could summon her directly to his side, anywhere in the world.
He would surely think of that possibility with his insight and will to survive at that moment.
The realization warmed her, pushing aside the irritation at his deliberately ambiguous phrasing.
For the first time in days, her chest eased a little.
'Yes… this way, he still won't be out of my reach after all.'
Without realizing it, a faint smirk curved her lips, the kind that carried a raw allure, born not of intent but of instinct, as the thought settled in her mind.
Meanwhile, Ryusei finally left her tent for real this time, the cool air cutting across his skin.
He walked in silence, thoughts running like a second heartbeat.
More than three months had passed since the Daimyō plan had been set in motion.
By now, the Hokage faction would have had plenty of time to plot countermeasures, so they might come up with something soon if they already weren't.
But he wasn't the same boy who'd slipped into this world.
He was stronger now, far stronger, and for the first time, he had Tsunade's strength at his back even when they were separated.
Just knowing she was there, a seal on his forehead like hers, a summoning contract linking them, made him feel as if the odds of surviving past twenty had shot through the roof.
She had become the brightest beacon in his life.
He promised himself that he would never let her down.
In this life, he would repay her somehow, even if it meant 'sacrificing' this young body of his, to one day 'appease' her in the future and follow her into her own 'elderly' next few decades.
But that was also the problem, wasn't it?
No matter how much he wanted to climb those breast-mountains, it was still his age.
He could sense it: Tsunade could never quite see him as her man while he looked like this, even if he was more developed than others, he had just entered puberty after 1 or 2 years ago, after all, technically. She couldn't see his mental age.
That was why he never pushed the flirting beyond a few subtle double meanings, why he kept his teasing ambiguous, to leave the current dynamic undisturbed as the perfect launchpad for the future, for one or a few more years.
He needed to wait, to grow, and to finish the other plan, letting her witness what had really happened to Nawaki, before she could lean fully on him.
Patience. Patience.
He repeated it like a mantra.
She was just another flash of flesh over a skeleton, like everyone else.
No matter how tempting she looked to his limbic brain.
His goals were more important.
His tone, even in his own head, stayed dry.
Still, the dangers ahead pressed at him.
Yes, theoretically, he could always summon Tsunade.
But what if something blocked it?
After all, nothing we wanted in life could be perfect.
What if even she couldn't handle what was coming?
Or worse, what if he got in danger because he did something so morally questionable that she would hesitate, or refuse to save him, like stealing others' famous dojutsu, for example?
She might still do it, but their bond could break afterward, perhaps.
That was why his own strength was still the most important thing.
No matter how close she felt, no matter how much her power buoyed him now, he couldn't afford to lean on anyone completely.
He tilted his head to the sky, eyes narrowing.
"I'll make it on my own feet first," he muttered under his breath.
"Then we'll see who saves who."
And with that, he walked on, the shadows of Yugakure's ruined streets stretching behind.