Senjutsu training wasn't suitable in Degarashi Port, so after gauging from Katsuyu and feeling grounded, Shuji set the matter aside temporarily.
Itachi's condition, as Tsunade said, recovered well. Moving about, forming seals, refining chakra, taijutsu—overall, even better than pre-injury.
Itachi took his wounding in battle quite openly.
At least this time, I didn't lose a comrade.
He said softly: "I was too careless. If not for the seniors' timely arrival, Shizune-senpai she..."
"Your combat strategy was sound." Shuji halted his self-reproach. "With your power, in that environment, you performed to the utmost."
"All responsibility lies with me as captain."
"If you want to claim that duty, become chūnin first."
Anko beside them cleared her throat immediately, straightening with feigned seriousness: "Ahem! That, Special Jōnin Shuji-sama, your humble chūnin subordinate Anko feels she tried very hard this time."
Her tone shifted, eyes sparkling at Shuji: "Speaking of, Shuji-sama promised before—"
"Yes, yes," Shuji sighed helplessly, agreeing repeatedly. "Situation was urgent; we must rush back. The promised feast is on account—I'll make it up upon return."
"Heh heh!" Anko beamed instantly, smugly patting her captain's shoulder. "I didn't say anything—it was Captain who brought it up!"
The youngest ninja sat quietly by the bed, watching the scene. His small feet dangled at the bed's edge, inky eyes reflecting dawn light.
A smile unconsciously appeared on his face.
Packed and ready, leaving Anko and Itachi, Shuji first bid Tsunade farewell.
Without Tsunade and Shizune, the A-rank Black Erosion extermination might not have succeeded.
Tsunade wasn't drinking today; she checked Shizune's right arm injury.
Compared to Team Five's trio, Shizune was the most severely hurt—plus, with Tsunade unable to see blood, postwar Wasabi wounded care fell to her.
"How's Miss Shizune's arm?"
"Bone recovery is slower, but basically healed." Shizune lowered her sleeve, smiling at Shuji.
"I'll check on them—Shuji, I'm off."
She left briskly, leaving Tsunade and Shuji alone.
The Senju princess immediately scowled.
She shouldn't have spoken up when that kid brought the ledgers—now he pestered endlessly with questions on village high-level operations she barely knew, forced to deflect.
More and more questions, increasingly annoying...
Annoying aside, beyond tacking "sama" on, he offered zilch.
If not the only clan member fused with Hashirama's cells, if not her own sense of duty, she'd dump it on him...
"What now?"
"Come to bid farewell, Tsunade-sama."
"Just scram." She waved irritably.
"Basic courtesy must be observed."
A vein twitched at Tsunade's temple.
Brat! Too lazy for even superficial politeness now?
"As a token of concern, drink less—it's nearly pickled you." Shuji's tone remained even.
Bang!
The stone table cracked slightly; Tsunade reined her anger.
"Not your place to lecture me!"
"Just stating facts, Tsunade-sama."
Hand gripping the stone edge, the golden-haired woman said coldly: "Want to die?" One more jab, and she'd smash it over.
Hearing the table groan, Shuji stepped back.
"Then, farewell, Tsunade-sama."
Seeing that impassive, hatefully calm demeanor, Tsunade felt stifled rage in her chest.
She inhaled sharply, huffing heavily from her nose to suppress the irritation.
Watching the retreating figure back away a few steps, about to turn.
She couldn't hold back after all.
"Hey."
The youth paused, tilting his head with a silent querying gaze.
"You should understand, right."
"What?"
Tsunade inhaled deeply, as if drawing in long-pent heaviness, then exhaled slowly.
"What I said before—Grandfather's ideal, all he sacrificed, all we sacrificed—it's already an unrealistic dream."
"Having died once, can't you let go?"
Shuji gazed steadily at Tsunade.
His eyes clear and calm, without ripple, yet inexplicably made the First Hokage's granddaughter feel intense unease, as if scorched by something beneath that calm.
She nearly averted her gaze.
"You've traveled the shinobi world. In Fire Country, do ninja still slaughter freely?"
Slaughter freely?
To claim no conflicts or grudges was fantasy. The shinobi world never lacked strife or undercurrents.
But to reach "freely slaughtering," like Warring States carnage, precarious days...
Tsunade fell silent.
Wind from outside rustled the garden, carrying distant craftsmen hammering the estate repairs.
After a long pause, she squeezed through gritted teeth, clear and curt:
"No."
"Then Hashirama-sama's ideal succeeded at least somewhat."
Sunlight stretched his profile long, casting on the silent corridor. Shuji lingered no more, turning—his figure vanishing at the colonnade's corner.
Tsunade stood alone, fingers unconsciously rubbing the cold necklace at her neck.
Shuji bid Shizune farewell.
"Shuji..." The kunoichi hesitated.
"Miss Shizune?"
"Tsunade-sama's words are harsh—please forgive her." In the end, that's all Shizune said.
"I understand."
Jirōchō waited at the gate, accompanying the trio partway before stopping, watching Team Five depart.
The return journey held no civilians; at ninja speed, nonstop, they'd reach Konoha before dawn.
The ledger matter was pressing but not critical, so at nightfall, Shuji found a fine campsite, arranging team rest till morning departure.
Anko and Itachi set up camp; Shuji placed alerts.
As he prepared traps, the youth looked to the forest depths. Four ninja emerged: animal masks, sleeveless bodysuits, white suspenders over, knives sheathed on backs.
"Team Five Special Jōnin Shuji."
"We are ordered to take Degarashi Port's ledgers from you."
The lead wolf-masked ninja stepped forward, extending a hand to Shuji.
"Please hand over the ledgers."
Chapters in advance there: patreon.com/Thaniel_a_goodchild