The focus shifts back to Tsunade in the barbecue restaurant.
The restaurant was a mess. The customers had long since quietly left, and even the owner was hiding behind the counter, afraid to make a sound.
Tsunade sat there alone, staring blankly at the table full of empty bottles and cooled charcoal.
The cold wind Shinichi brought with his departure had long dissipated, leaving behind only deeper silence and the lingering scent of alcohol in the air.
The conflict just now, especially the youth's final resounding words, was like a boulder thrown into the lake of her heart, violently churning up the muddy depths of her buried memories.
In a trance, she felt like she was back in her childhood, playing under the broad palms of her great grandfather, listening to the serious but caring advice of her second grandfather... At that time, the Hokage title was the family's highest honor, protection was a natural duty, and Konoha was the warmest home under the sun.
Her younger brother Nawaki, smiling brightly, shouted, "I want to become a great Hokage like great grandfather and second grandfather," and Dan spoke gently and firmly about his dream of protecting their comrades... The beliefs and faces that once supported and defined her now felt blurry and painful, eroded by alcohol and years of accumulated sorrow.
Just as she was sinking into the whirlpool of memories, almost swallowed by that heavy sense of suffocation, a small voice filled with worry and slight annoyance sounded at the doorway:
"Lady Tsunade!"
Tsunade slowly turned her head. At the doorway stood Shizune's small figure, wrapped in a thick scarf, her face flushed red by the cold wind, watching Tsunade with a tight mouth, a mixture of anger and helplessness.
'Was it that kid... Did he go find Shizune after he left?'
This thought flashed through Tsunade's muddled mind.
"Honestly! Running off alone again and drinking this much!" Shizune quickly walked over, skillfully checked the number of empty bottles on the table, and frowned even harder.
She complained verbally, but her movements were swift as she supported Tsunade's slightly swaying arm: "You reek of alcohol, and look at this mess... Let's go home."
Helped up by Shizune's not-so-strong but exceptionally firm support, Tsunade did not resist.
Leaning on the girl's slender shoulder, feeling the small strength that was striving to support her, and the undisguised concern in her words, a sudden warmth quietly surged into Tsunade's heart, diluting some of the frozen pain and despair.
She said nothing, allowing Shizune to half-carry, half-drag her, stumbling along the streets still covered in snow.
Shizune was still quietly lecturing her nearby, buzzing in her ear with comments like "not taking care of your body," "losing your temper again," and "making people worry."
Strangely, this nagging, which would usually annoy her, now sounded in her ears and made that warmth even clearer.
The cold night wind blowing on her face instead cleared her sluggish mind slightly.
After walking for an unknown amount of time, the familiar courtyard gate appeared before them.
"We're here." Shizune gasped, painstakingly took out the key to unlock the door, and helped Tsunade into the warm house.
Just like that... she was home.
Tsunade leaned against the porch, watching Shizune busy herself lighting the lamp and heating water, her small figure bustling under the light.
Outside was the cold winter night; inside were the soft yellow lights and subtle sounds.
The traces of the argument had not been completely erased, nor had the worry dissipated, but this space called "home," and the girl before her who was complaining while taking care of her, truly existed.
She looked at the little girl before her, who was clearly still sulking but meticulously taking care of her nonetheless, and suddenly let out a long, silent breath of accumulated frustration.
---
Tsunade had thought that she probably wouldn't have the chance, or the desire, to see that sharp-tongued, resolute black-haired youth again anytime soon.
He was like an overly bright mirror, reflecting the disarray she didn't want to face.
However, just a few days later, on a snowy afternoon, an urgent knocking broke the tranquility of the small courtyard.
Outside the door stood an Anbu wearing an animal mask, his posture rigid and his presence solemn.
Tsunade recognized him; he was one of the elite direct subordinates who constantly followed the old man, the Third Hokage.
There was no greeting, not even unnecessary courtesy. The Anbu stated his purpose in the most concise and rapid language the moment Tsunade opened the door:
Higashino Shinichi had suffered a severe accident during training; his injuries were extremely difficult to treat, and the existing medical ninja team at Konoha Hospital was helpless after consultation. The situation was critical.
Third Hokage Sarutobi Hiruzen had personally given the order, urgently dispatching him here to implore Lady Tsunade to go to the hospital immediately.
'Injuries sustained during training?'
'What kind of injury could be so severe that the entire hospital team was stumped, requiring the old man to personally use the Anbu to fetch her?'
Tsunade's brow instantly furrowed. After a moment of hesitation, she followed the Anbu, stepping into the vast snowstorm and hurrying toward Konoha Hospital.
Her footprints were quickly covered by fresh snow, leaving behind only a trail of rapidly receding marks.
---
Time rewinds to that morning.
Konoha's Fourth Training Ground was covered in thick snow. The sky was gray, and fine snowflakes whirled down in the north wind, casting a layer of icy silence over the entire area.
In the center of the ground, Higashino Shinichi was breathing lightly, holding up a stable, spinning azure blue chakra sphere—the Rasengan.
Standing beside the field, the tall and imposing Enma stood with his arms crossed, like a rock sculpture in the wind and snow, his golden pupils intently watching Shinichi's movements.
"Hah!"
Shinichi shouted softly, and the Rasengan in his hand suddenly emitted a deep hum. Its volume expanded visibly, and at the same time, a wisp of blazing scarlet, like thick ink dropped into clear water, rapidly spread out from the sphere's core!
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The originally non-elemental chakra vortex instantly transformed into a blazing storm filled with explosive fire release chakra!
The scarlet Rasengan pulsed in Shinichi's palm, seeming to compress molten rock within. The high temperature it emitted instantly vaporized the surrounding falling snowflakes into white mist, making a "hissing" sound and creating a distorted, steaming heat wave area in the snowstorm.
Enma stared intently at the steadily burning scarlet sphere. After a few seconds, he finally nodded slowly and said in a booming voice, "The infusion of the chakra nature transformation is stable, and the form is maintained perfectly... Kid, you succeeded."
"Have you thought of a name for this jutsu?"
Fine beads of sweat trickled down Shinichi's brow, but his eyes remained calm as he replied:
"I plan to call it—Fire Style: Rasengan."
The name was simple and direct, clarifying its elemental jutsu attribute and its origin in the Rasengan, while also conveying a fierce momentum.
"A good name," Enma commented, his gaze immediately becoming more serious: "Now, the final step, and the most important one: safely releasing it to test its true power and controllability. Remember! Creating and stabilizing it is only the beginning; mastering it is what makes it your jutsu."
.