The air in the basement was extremely stagnant, carrying a faint stale smell. The only light source came from a dimly glowing ever-burning lamp in the corner, casting the monotonous space in a tomb-like glow.
Though 'basement' usually conjures dark and damp associations—especially with the prefix 'Land of Rain'—this prison holding Tsunade was completely insulated from that. Darkness was the norm, but damp absolutely not.
The reason was the double barrier Hii Kōri had constructed from both inside and out using Scorch Release chakra.
Without carrying a specific imprint or means of relief, touching it meant instantaneous evaporation. This imprisonment method, from another perspective, also solved the basement's dampness problem.
But Tsunade, bound to the X-shaped rack in the room's center, apparently wouldn't appreciate such 'thoughtfulness.'
She still wore the same short jacket Hii Kōri had given her. Her arms were hanging high, hands hanging limply, toes barely touching the ground.
Head lowered, honey-colored hair scattered, covering her face. Once tall and strong, now especially fragile and tired. Only her slow, faint breaths betrayed lingering life.
Suddenly, she heard footsteps outside.
Precise, almost error-free footsteps, filled with an inhuman quality.
Hii Kōri's steps.
Tsunade's fingertips twitched imperceptibly, but her head remained lowered, no unnecessary reaction. Nearly a month imprisoned, she'd grown accustomed to Hii Kōri appearing at the end of such footsteps.
Creak—the old door hinges groaned slightly. The deeply loathed figure arrived as expected.
Hii Kōri stood at the entrance, sizing Tsunade up. He casually took out a white coat and put it on, simultaneously lifting the inner Scorch Release barrier, replacing it with a Wind Release barrier that completely eliminated internal 'impurities.'
High-temperature sterilization, ensuring dust-free—Hii Kōri's most basic requirements for a laboratory.
Even without looking up, Tsunade could clearly feel that strange gaze on her.
Not a victor's show-off or scrutiny, not sexual desire or passion—that inorganic, emotionless gaze wasn't directed at a 'human,' but simply appraising an object.
In the month since falling into Hii Kōri's hands, aside from the initial humiliation, he'd merely used her as a 'material' for various experiments.
As Hii Kōri himself said—she was merely a tool to crush Katō Dan's psychological defenses.
Though somewhat untimely, alone in this tomb-like basement, Tsunade sometimes questioned her feminine allure.
Perhaps this was Stockholm Syndrome. But from Hii Kōri's perception, Tsunade's hatred hadn't diminished.
So he ignored it.
"The war's almost over. More precisely, hostilities have completely ceased."
After a moment, Hii Kōri, fiddling with various medicines and tools at the room's only table, suddenly spoke.
His voice was exceptionally clear, even abrupt, in the confined basement.
"Signing formal agreements will probably drag on, but your matter will definitely be handled first. Soon, you'll be released back to Konoha."
"Ah... what a pity. I still have many experiments I'd like to try on you. Hashirama Senju's granddaughter's physique indeed differs greatly from ordinary ninjas..."
Tsunade's body tensed for an instant, then emitted a laugh thick with derision. She looked up; through disheveled hair, bloodshot eyes stared fixedly at Hii Kōri's back.
If eyes could manifest tangible forms, that gaze full of hatred and resentment would probably mince him into unidentifiable pieces.
"Back to Konoha?"
Tsunade's voice was slightly hoarse from the Scorch Release barrier's heat: "Call it 'release'—still using me as bargaining chip to tear flesh from Konoha?"
Her chest heaved violently, the waves beneath her short jacket shaking, hatred in her tone nearly crystallized: "You ignited this war, your hands stained with Konoha blood—and now you casually mention 'ceasefire'?!"
"After what you did to me, to Dan—how dare you speak like that?!"
Even after a month with Hii Kōri, thinking herself beyond grief, his dismissive attitude still easily provoked her.
Eyes red but tearless, she could only struggle, rattling her restraints.
"...I'm genuinely curious about your upbringing."
Long immune to such cursing, Hii Kōri just sighed, complaining without looking back: "In your eyes, is 'ninja' a warm, kind profession?"
"Killing, being killed—ultimately just work. Today you kill my people, tomorrow I kill yours, the day after we negotiate over common interests. Hatred is an indelible imprint to individuals, but to villages, merely quantifiable price."
Sensing faint blood in the air, Hii Kōri leisurely mixed medicines, his tone as calm as ever, not trying to treat Tsunade's self-inflicted wounds.
"What I did to you? Tough luck."
He took out a porcelain bottle, poured purple crystals into a mortar, slowly grinding at a pace matching his calm tone.
"Anyone who becomes a ninja has deep grudges with other villages. My older brother and sister-in-law were killed by your Konoha's White Fang. Ha, the couple left neatly, leaving a child alone."
Mentioning this, Hii Kōri recalled Sasori's follow-up experiences in the original work.
Losing parents, Sasori grew increasingly withdrawn. To divert his grief, Chiyo taught him puppetry. After learning, he made two puppets resembling his parents to fill the void.
Even then, Sasori knew his parents were dead. Raised by Chiyo—whose parenting skills rivaled Ōtsutsuki Kaguya's—Sasori's psyche grew extremely twisted, eventually killing his only 'friend' to make his first 'human puppet.'
Adult Sasori, unable to avenge himself on the already-dead White Fang, transferred his hatred to the 'incompetent' Third Kazekaze, whose weakness caused his parents' deaths. After assassinating the Third Kazekage, he deserted, later recruited by the Akatsuki.
As for the subsequent chain—the strongest Kazekage's disappearance causing the Wind daimyō to lose trust in Suna, drastically cutting mission commissions, triggering Suna's financial crisis, forcing Rasa to become a gold miner, neglecting governance, plunging Suna into a weakening vicious cycle—if one stretched, it could be blamed on Chiyo.
After all, war has casualties. This cascade merely reflected Chiyo's parenting.
"My old hag's a terrible parent. Big brother lacked confidence growing up, only later accepting things. Leaving a child in her hands—I can't rest easy."
Thus thinking divergently, Hii Kōri sighed sincerely.
But now, the Akatsuki's founders were his disciples, Sasori's education directly his responsibility—that future couldn't exist.
Though he hadn't recalled details before, his actions had changed the world's flow.
With his creations and technology, Suna's original defeat transformed into this truce—from Suna's position, even a great victory. Suna and Wind's development would be far smoother.
For want of a nail, the shoe was lost; for want of a shoe, the horse was lost; for want of a horse, the rider was lost; for want of a rider, the battle was lost; for want of a battle, the kingdom was lost.
The butterfly effect works both ways. Winning a war can also raise a nation.
"Then go after Sakumo Hatake!"
"What's the point? Even flaying him alive won't bring back my brother and sister-in-law."
Finally turning to Tsunade, Hii Kōri leaned against the table, spreading his hands: "What difference do you see between so-called ninjas and hyenas fighting over carrion on the plains?"
"Answer: none. Wealth, resources, power—all interests. Emotions too. You have plenty of red-eyed folks in your village, right? Easy to understand, no?"
"Without ideas, people eventually self-destruct. But hyenas that don't learn when to stop tearing risk becoming carrion themselves. That's why I targeted Katō Dan."
"Rather than killing enemies myself, finding ways to resurrect family matters more. Don't you think?"
"What do you think you are? Trying to develop resurrection techniques?"
Tsunade had heard similar rhetoric while being violated, but still dismissed it—rather, she must dismiss it.
If she didn't belittle everything about this man to dust, she couldn't breathe.
If she didn't curse everything about him worthless, she couldn't continue to exist.
"You'll never touch such techniques in a lifetime!"
Even if just illogical cursing, if not voiced, her heart, gripped by a venomous snake, would feel no warmth.
"Mm, excellent curse. I like it. Shedding worldly obligations, qualities, morals, many things become simple. I did terrible things, so you should hate me thus."
Sensing the cursed energy infused into Tsunade's every cell 'lingering fragrance,' Hii Kōri's tone lifted slightly.
"But one rebuttal: I can develop resurrection techniques. Treat death as spatial, not biological—reincarnation techniques become easily explicable~ What follows is just like my usual research."
"Envision all possibilities, evaluate them equally, find the sole solution—this mediocrity's shortcut."
Downing the ground crystals mixed with wine, Hii Kōri's eyes seemed to brighten. He casually waved at Tsunade; a pair of man-sized, brightly glowing white hands materialized beside her.
"Namaḥ samantabuddhānāṃ, rudrāya, svāhā—"
Palm Hatching: Regression.
Accompanied by the Īśāna mantra, the jade-white giant hands gently grasped Tsunade on the X-rack.
Rudra, considered Shiva's predecessor, possesses composite divinity of death, reproduction, life. Driving the technique with this mantra, Hii Kōri could regress the wounded to their pre-injury state—even regenerating lost limbs.
But this technique is basic and only worked on recently injured. Applied to old wounds, though healing, it regressed overall state to pre-injury, erasing both old wounds and subsequent growth.
A living being's soul, spirit, and body are one. Regressing only the body affects soul and spirit. For minutes or days, mental continuity might preserve memories.
But with large time spans, memory continuity severely deviates.
For the same reason, this technique couldn't resurrect dead.
For the living, soul, spirit, body. But for dead, spirit and soul have left the body. 'Regression' yields only a human form—no different from a vegetative state.
The jade palms dissolved into light. Tsunade's self-inflicted wounds were restored. Hii Kōri approached, removed a collar, buckled around her neck, then released her restraints.
With faint stinging, Tsunade felt something piercing her body from the collar.
She tried tearing off this humiliating symbol, but Hii Kōri grabbed the chain attached to the collar, pulling her into his arms.
"I advise you not to. This replaces sealing formulas to block chakra flow. Internal needles are connected to your chakra meridians. As a top medical ninja, you know what this means?"
Hii Kōri sat in a shadow-formed chair, restraining Tsunade's wrists, pressing her across his lap, casually flicking the finger-thick steel chain, slapping her rear twice.
"If you still want revenge, don't want to become a useless person, wear this. When Konoha arrives, I'll remove it."
"Ghh... Why not just kill me!"
"Oh my, unexpected line."
Shoving fingers into Tsunade's mouth, stirring, Hii Kōri raised an eyebrow with interest.
"Can't casually say that—common sense in another world."
"Nonsense! I don't understand!"
Already in a state of 'total negation' toward Hii Kōri, Tsunade wouldn't heed such incomprehensible words, still struggling fiercely.
"Hmm? No matter. I'll teach you properly."
Shadows instantly transformed into a bed. Hii Kōri, originally planning to remove the Five Elements Seal and leave, flipped her beneath him: "This time, I'll leave you with unforgettable memories—as a parting gift~"
"Mmph! I'll definitely—"
***
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