The morning light in a nondescript town filtered through the window of a modest inn, landing on the face of Senju Tsunade as she groaned awake. Another night, another throbbing headache.
"Tsunade-sama," Shizune's gentle but cautious voice sounded from nearby. She was subtly tucking a small, precious bundle of bills deeper into her obi. "Are we… going to the casino today?"
She prayed the answer was no. They'd finally saved a tiny buffer after weeks of frugality, and the thought of seeing it vanish in a whirlwind of dice and despair made her stomach clench.
"Not today!" Tsunade snapped, sitting up and rubbing her temples. An irritating, persistent twitch had taken up residence in her eyelid. It wasn't just the hangover; it was a deep, restless dread she couldn't place. She felt a sudden, powerful pull, a sense of something ending. "Shizune. Pack up. We're returning to Konoha."
Shizune's face, previously etched with worry, lit up like the sunrise. "Eh?! R-Really? That's wonderful, Tsunade-sama!"
A genuine smile broke through. The nomadic life of debt-dodging and constant movement was exhausting. Konoha meant stability, familiar faces, a home she hadn't seen in years.
"Just do it," Tsunade grumbled, though her own heart was conflicted. She was going back to see the old man, her teacher, Sarutobi Hiruzen, off. Despite everything, she couldn't let him face whatever was coming alone.
With a sigh that held decades of weight, she began to gather her few possessions. There wasn't much—a life on the run meant traveling light, with only her trusted assistant and a certain little pig, Tonton, as constants.
***
Meanwhile, on a winding road through the countryside, a very different traveling party was making steady progress. Jiraiya, playing the role of the eccentric mentor, was attempting to lecture Naruto on chakra theory between his own colorful observations of the local scenery.
"—and so, controlling the spiraling energy is key, you see? It's like the swirling passion of a first love, powerful and unfocused, needing a tender hand to—OW! Hey, watch the clones!"
Several Naruto Shadow Clones, practicing their formation run, had tripped over the sage's feet in a tangle of limbs.
They'd passed a few merchant caravans, and snippets of gossip caught Jiraiya's sharp ears. The most startling one: Konoha's legendary sucker, the Sannin Tsunade, was on a winning streak.
His playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a grave frown. He knew Tsunade's cursed luck all too well. A big win was never a good omen; it was a harbinger of loss.
"I wonder who the price will be paid by this time…" he muttered, a shiver running down his spine. "It… it wouldn't be me, would it?" He glanced at Raimon, who seemed utterly unconcerned.
Well, of course he's not worried, Jiraiya thought wryly. The guy's already technically dead.
"Uncle! I did it! Look!"
Naruto's excited yell cut through the musings. He came skidding to a halt in front of Raimon, thrusting his palm forward. A brilliantly blue, perfectly spherical Rasengan whirled to life with a fierce, grinding whirr—a little too close to Raimon's face.
"Baka! Do you want to redecorate the landscape with my head?!" Raimon's hand flicked out, a sharp thwack landing on Naruto's skull. The Rasengan fizzled out. "Control! It's about control!"
"Sorry, 'ttebayo…" Naruto rubbed his head, but his eyes were still shining. "But… isn't it awesome? I mastered it!"
"Hmph. 'Awesome' is a strong word," Raimon said, watching the boy's face immediately fall. He sighed internally. This kid's emotional state was like a brittle glass. "But… you did master it faster than your old man, Minato, did. So I guess that counts for something."
Naruto's head shot up, blue eyes wide. "R-Really?! I'm better than my dad?!"
"In raw learning speed for this one technique, maybe," Raimon clarified, ruffling his blond hair. The kid craved validation like a plant craved sunlight. "Don't let it go to your head. The next part, adding your wind nature to it, is where the real challenge begins."
As they walked, the destination—and the impending reunion—weighed on Raimon's mind. He needed intel. Turning to Jiraiya, he adopted a casual tone. "Hey, senpai. Random question. Ever heard of a shinobi named Kato Dan?"
Jiraiya scratched his chin, thinking. "Kato Dan… Doesn't ring a bell. Was he some big-shot? Someone you knew?" If Raimon was asking, Jiraiya figured the man must have been formidable.
Raimon blinked.
He doesn't know? A ripple of confusion passed through him. A butterfly effect from my arrival?
His own transmigration had come with a now-silent "system," a golden finger that had died along with his original body. Its absence now was irrelevant; its rewards were already his. But its subtle alterations to the timeline clearly weren't.
"No one by that name at all?" he pressed.
"Nope. Sorry."
A strange relief mixed with confusion settled in Raimon. No Dan meant a different trauma, a different reason for Tsunade's self-exile. Did her hemophobia even exist here? The uncertainty made him more anxious, not less.
BOOM!
The conversation was obliterated by a deafening explosion and Naruto's triumphant laughter. "WAHAHA! Did you see that?! Totally annihilated!"
A large tree ahead of them was now a shower of splinters and smoke, victim to a fully-powered Rasengan. "Sasuke-teme! I'm way stronger than you now, 'ttebayo!"
Raimon shook his head with a faint smile. That rivalry would fuel them both for years. He wouldn't interfere much. Still, he pondered the Uchiha prodigy. Teaching Sasuke the true, sniper-like application of Lightning Release—a theoretical "Railgun" technique—was tempting.
It would be a terrifyingly effective assassination tool, something even he'd have to respect.
But not yet, he decided. Let Itachi have his tragic play first. Sasuke needs those Mangekyō upgrades. And Orochimaru… that snake needed a proper distraction, something to keep him from growing too complacent in his body-hopping games.
Their brief reverie was shattered. Raimon stopped dead, holding up a fist. "Stop."
"Uncle? What's wro—WHOA!" Naruto, lost in Rasengan daydreams, failed to halt. The unstable sphere still flickering in his palm connected squarely with the backside of the sage walking ahead of him.
"GYAAAAHH! MY ASS, YOU LITTLE BRAT!"
Jiraiya was launched forward with a yelp, landing in a heap. The back of his distinctive pants was now a tattered flag, revealing a very red, very embarrassed rear. He scrambled up, yanking his long haori off to tie around his waist like a makeshift skirt, his face a spectacular shade of crimson. "Are you trying to kill your sensei?!"
"S-Sorry, Ero-Sennin!"
"Quiet, both of you," Raimon commanded, his eyes sharp. "You felt it too, right?"
The playful fury vanished from Jiraiya's face, replaced by the steely focus of a Sannin. "How could I not? That's not a casual chakra signature. Whoever it is… their presence is on par with mine." He subtly shifted his stance, positioning himself slightly in front of Naruto.
***
"Hmm?" Tsunade, sprinting through the forest on her return journey, also skidded to a halt, dirt kicking up around her feet. A powerful, unfamiliar chakra was ahead, and it had just stopped moving. Two others were with it—one robust, one flickering like a eager candle.
"La-Lady Tsunade! Wait!" Shizune finally caught up, Tonton clutched in her arms, gasping for air.
"Shh!" Tsunade held up a hand, her gaze fixed ahead through the dense foliage. "There are shinobi ahead. Strong ones. Be ready."
With practiced silence, the two women leapt into the trees, moving like shadows from branch to branch, closing in on the source.
On the road below, Raimon gestured. "Jiraiya, take Naruto and get under cover. Let me handle the greeting."
"You sure?"
"I'm the hardest to kill here. Go."
With a nod, Jiraiya grabbed a protesting Naruto and melted into the treeline.
Raimon stood alone in the center of the path, waiting.
From her perch, Tsunade's keen eyes finally pierced the greenery and found the figure standing calmly below. The wild blond hair, the posture, the set of the shoulders… Her breath hitched. Her heart, which had endured so much loss, hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. Tears, unbidden and hot, blurred her vision.
"Tsunade-sama?" Shizune whispered, seeing her lady's trembling form. Her hands subtly readied poisoned senbon. "Is it an enemy? Should I…?"
"Don't you dare!" Tsunade's whisper was fierce, choked with emotion.
Below, Jiraiya, peeking from hiding, gave a cheerful, awkward wave. "Yo, Tsunade! Long time no—GYAH!"
Tsunade exploded from the canopy. She didn't run; she blitzed. The ground cratered under her launch. Jiraiya's friendly greeting was cut off as her sandaled foot planted itself squarely on his face, using him as a stepping stone without a second glance. "MOVE IT, PERV!"
She crossed the remaining distance in an instant and threw herself forward. The impact would have shattered the ribs of a living man. Her arms locked around Raimon in a grip that could bend steel, her face buried in his shoulder. The sheer force of her embrace caused cracks to spiderweb across his Edo Tensei body.
Raimon, after a moment of surprise, gently brought his arms up, patting her back with a softness few had ever seen from him. The scent of sakura and medicinal herbs filled his senses—a scent from a lifetime ago.
"Tsunade," he said, his voice quiet and warm amidst the settling dust. "It's been a while."