If you like this story, check out my new one too:
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Oops, I'm Kimimaro? Guess I'll Be the Final Villain!
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(You can find the link for it on my profile page.)
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Then, as a brief opening appeared during his clash with Kiyomi, Kagami covering his flank, Danzo seized the chance.
Forming several rapid seals, he slammed his palm to the ground.
A new Edo Tensei coffin rose from the earth, cracking open to reveal Dan Katō.
The man stepped out with his usual calm composure, blue chakra faintly radiating from his form.
He didn't look confused, only quietly curious as his eyes swept across the chaotic battlefield.
It was clear he'd been briefed beforehand.
"Do you remember your orders?" Danzo asked coldly.
Dan nodded once, respectful but expressionless.
"Good," Danzo said, pointing toward the massive magenta Susanoo clashing violently in the distance.
"She's there—Tsunade. She's fighting Izuna Uchiha, one of our summons. Go to her. Do exactly what we discussed. I'll keep Izuna's body from interfering."
For a brief second, Dan's expression softened.
His gaze lingered on the far-off figure of the towering Susanoo and the way smaller flashes of Tsunade's strikes against it, which pushed it around from time to time.
His chest tightened, recognition, longing, regret, all compressed into one quiet breath.
That woman was still his greatest attachment, even in death.
"I understand," he replied simply, voice low but steady.
He turned and launched himself toward her position, chakra flaring.
Kiyomi immediately sensed the shift. "Another Edo!" she shouted, preparing to intercept, but Danzo anticipated it.
He sacrificed yet another of his precious Izanagi eyes, twisting half his body into monstrous tree roots that erupted outward, tripping the legs of and then ensnaring Kiyomi's Susanoo and holding it just long enough for Dan to escape.
The roots spread, cracking apart her construct before dissolving, Danzo's body tearing itself apart in the process.
He vanished, only to reappear moments later, perfectly restored, as if everything was an illusion, his eye count one less but his smirk intact.
As he sped across the battlefield at full throttle, Dan Katō recognized her instantly.
Not just from the massive slug fighting beside her, but from the unmistakable pulse of her chakra, that same familiar warmth he'd known in life.
Even through the haze of war, her silhouette was clear.
That small, fierce frame, darting between the crushing blows of the magenta Susanoo, fists and kicks landing with earth-shaking precision.
She was holding her ground, no, she was pushing it back.
A bittersweet ache struck him.
That was unmistakably Tsunade, unyielding, radiant, and utterly impossible to forget.
Meanwhile, Tsunade was completely absorbed in her battle.
After Katsuyu's largest fragment defeated Danzo's summoned Baku, Ryusei had redirected it to assist her.
To Tsunade's surprise, the acid worked even against a Susanoo, a construct of pure spiritual chakra of some sort.
She hadn't expected that, but the results spoke for themselves.
The fight, once overwhelmingly difficult, had turned way more manageable and even winnable.
Their teamwork was seamless.
Tsunade's strikes broke through the Susanoo's armor, and in those very moments, Katsuyu's acid poured through the fractures, widening and deepening them.
The giant slug could even split itself mid-battle to evade the Totsuka Blade before reforming instantly, its movements also surprisingly agile for its size in general.
With that synergy, Tsunade felt victory drawing closer.
A small slug clung to her shoulder, one of Ryusei's anchors.
Once she cracked the Susanoo's core and exposed Izuna, it would reverse-summon Ryusei straight to her side so he could seal him.
That was the plan.
Everything was going exactly as it should, until she sensed something strange.
A faint pulse of chakra brushed the edge of her awareness, distant at first, but growing stronger.
At first, she ignored it, focused entirely on Izuna's shifting blade and the Yata Mirror's endless defense.
But then the pulse became more familiar.
Painfully familiar.
Her fists slowed for a heartbeat.
That chakra—she knew it.
Her eyes widened, then hardened, her jaw clenching until her teeth creaked.
Veins bulged at her temples, her forehead throbbing with anger.
"These bastards…" she hissed. "They summoned him too—to use him against me!"
Instead of sorrow or nostalgia, rage filled her veins.
She knew exactly who that presence belonged to—Dan Katō.
Her almost-lover, the man who had come painfully close to becoming one but never truly had crossed that barrier.
And now, those bastards were desecrating his soul, dragging him back from peace just to rattle her resolve.
Her mind spun.
Because if they had an idea to summon him, would Nawaki also be next?
Would they stoop that low—to use her beloved brother's corpse as a weapon against her?
The thought made her vision blur with fury.
For a moment, she felt herself unraveling—rage, grief, disbelief twisting into something unstable.
She could already imagine it—the unthinkable horror of seeing Nawaki's reanimated face on the opposite side of the field.
For a brief, dangerous moment, Tsunade felt her control slipping.
But then, a calm pulse cut through it all.
Ryusei's chakra brushed against her mind—steady, grounding, familiar.
"Tsunade," his voice came through telepathically, low and firm, "breathe. I know what you're thinking—but listen. They wouldn't dare summon Nawaki."
Her breath hitched. "You—"
He'd also read her perfectly; she barely registered.
"I know," he continued, his tone steady, as if reading her thoughts. "If they could use him, they already would have. But they didn't. Do you know why? Because summoning Nawaki would expose them completely. If Tobirama or Hashirama are ever revived—and I'm sure they plan to call on one of them someday, or even today, in a case of an emergency—what do you think would happen if they heard the whispers, not to mention directly saw Nawaki's soul used as a puppet against his own sister? Their direct descendants and closest blood - being pushed to that point after their deaths..."
Tsunade's eyes widened slightly, her rage faltering as his logic sank in.
"They could deny and cover up his assassination forever, even if you later brought it up, passing it as some slander..." Ryusei continued, "but not that. Not defiling Nawaki's soul directly. That would damn them publicly, and then even the assassination might be more plausible to be connected to them then. They aren't that reckless. So calm yourself first before something bad happens to you. And ignore the other ghosts they throw at you."
"The dead are theirs to manipulate. But we, the living, we fight for what still belongs to us. Our path. Our future and the revenge. And no illusions from your past get to touch that."
His voice was firm but warm, carrying that calm authority that always seemed to steady her at the most important moments.
And yet, underneath that composure, there was something else, something quietly possessive in the way he said our future, as if he were reminding her who she truly stood beside now.
He was obviously referring to the approaching presence of Dan Katō—Ryusei had sensed him too.
Tsunade's heartbeat slowed.
The chaos in her chest began to fade.
She exhaled deeply, clenching her fists with renewed focus.
"Understood," she whispered—softly, almost obediently.
It was an unfamiliar tone for her, one that surprised even herself.
But the tone he'd used, the subtle blend of reassurance and command, even protectiveness, still lingered in her mind.
The way he knew her thoughts so instinctively, her fears, her reactions, her emotions, even before she voiced them, and calmed and redirected them with a mix of reason and warmth no one else ever had for her in the world, was both comforting and irresistible for some reason, as if currently cementing something long hidden deeper in her mind even further.
"How does he always know exactly what I'm thinking…?"
But, beneath his logic, there was also a faint dominance in his words, a natural assertion that grounded her even as it flustered her.
And as she realized that, something inside her stirred, something faintly guilty and confusing.
Not because of Dan Katō's presence, but because, for a fleeting second, she felt as if Ryusei was the only one with the right to imply such things to her.
Like he'd quietly claimed that place in her life long ago, naturally, without ever asking, without needing to.
Her cheeks even warmed despite herself, absurdly out of place in the middle of battle.
"Since when did I start letting him talk like that and have that kind of hold on me…?"
It was ridiculous.
And Dan Katō had never even been her lover, in the first place, she thought—not truly.
He'd been a kind, idealistic man; more a confidant, or even a best friend, than a partner.
Someone who admired her too much from a distance, loved her too softly for her deepest taste.
She had pitied him at times more than she'd ever felt passion for him.
There had never been depth, never anything lasting, nor the bridging over her inner barriers.
And yet now, with Ryusei's voice still echoing through her mind, she felt an almost comical female twinge of guilt, as if standing before her true 'ideal' lover, whom she might have just accidentally wronged, for some reason.
She caught herself thinking, with faint embarrassment, "What the hell am I even feeling?"
It wasn't regret—it was mostly something else entirely now.
A realization that, somewhere along the way, Ryusei had become the one she truly aligned herself with, the one she cared for beyond any logic or history.
Yet, the idea of Dan even existing between them now, in any form, also felt… a bit wrong.
For her, too.
Like an awkward secret she'd rather pretend never happened, something she oddly didn't want Ryusei to ever know about.
It almost felt like she was doing something she shouldn't, like getting caught cheating on a test she never even meant to take.
So, naturally, she buried those lingering thoughts of Dan Katō deep within herself, where neither she nor Ryusei would ever have to face them again.
And as the pulse of Dan Katō's chakra drew closer, Tsunade straightened her back and even smirked faintly to herself.
"He doesn't belong in this chapter of my life anymore."
Whatever ghosts the enemy threw at her now, they'd find no weakness left to exploit.
Not anymore.