STIN: Chapter 106/107

Chapter 106: Acting Too Radically

The instant the heavy curtain was yanked aside, the stinging reek of disinfectant rushed out, thick with the iron tang of blood.

Inside the largest medical tent on the Ame front, the air was strung taut, like a bow drawn to its limit.

Ragged breathing, stifled groans from the wounded, the crisp clatter of medical tools, all of it was drowned out by the sudden crescendo of an argument at the center of the tent.

"Tsunade! What a fine student you've raised!"

Danzō, shrouded in his eternally somber robes, stood rooted in the middle of the tent, eyes so dark they seemed to weep dampness. He glared at the figure beside a mound of blood-soaked bandages and empty medicine bottles.

"An entire village. An entire Kusagakure. Wiped out because that Kamiyama Ryo lost his temper. Do you have any idea what that means? They were allies. Allies named in our treaty." His voice was low but forked like a viper's tongue, every word an accusation. "Tsunade, is this what you call discipline? Is this the ethics your clan instills, slaughtering an ally on a whim?"

Her reply was a sharper crack.

Tsunade's head snapped up from a stack of casualty reports. Under her golden bangs, amber eyes flared with tangible fury, an enraged lioness.

"Shimura Danzō!"

Her fist slammed onto the desk. The thick hardwood groaned in protest. "My people, I know them. Ryo isn't a lunatic, and he's no butcher. Watch your mouth."

She leaned forward, pressure meeting pressure, her presence cutting even fiercer than his. "And you. You parade around preaching hardline and iron-blooded, dressing yourself up as Konoha's shield. What now? Faced with decisive force, you suddenly think my man is too radical?

Danzō's brow creased, the furrows digging deeper. Sparring with this woman's sharp tongue was a fool's errand. He changed angles at once. "Fine. Let's set the Grass Village aside, for now."

He pressed harder, voice turning colder. "Has Ryo's squad completed its mission? Where is he? Where is the mission scroll, the intel? Has he forgotten the basic protocol of reporting back to the village? Does Konoha mean nothing to him? I'd say he slaughtered so freely in the Land of Grass he's forgotten his roots. Perhaps he's already nurturing thoughts of desertion." No one was better than Danzō at pinning labels. He dropped the heavy cap of suspected defection without blinking.

"Heh." Tsunade let out a short, incredulous laugh. "You've been sitting in Root's shadows so long, looking down at the world, you've forgotten what it means for ordinary shinobi to stake their lives on the battlefield."

She rose, both hands flattening the desk as she loomed over him. "Missions run into complications and get delayed. That's normal. If you've got the free time to stand here lecturing me, dripping sarcasm and acting coy, why don't you take a walk among the wounded? Look at those kids who lost legs and arms. Look at the ones who bled and sweated for your glory."

Her anger mounted, voice erupting like a volcano. "I don't have time for your droning, old man. Get back to your command post and do your job. Stop making a mess of mine. No wonder my grand-uncle, chose Hiruzen-sensei for Hokage back then and not you, because you weren't up to it."

Those last words were a shout, each syllable laced with scorn and rage, barbed like poisoned senbon, striking Danzō's most sensitive nerve.

His face went from iron blue to pitch black. The fire in his single eye all but burst out, then stuck, caught in his throat.

His Adam's apple bobbed. He trembled with barely controlled fury, a breath trapped painfully in his chest.

"Get out." Tsunade jabbed a finger at the curtain, her command as merciless as a general berating a routed army.

Danzō's chest heaved. It took all his strength not to lash out. He stared at Tsunade, eyes thick with venom, and squeezed out a threat between his teeth. "Tsunade. Mark my words. This debt—"

"Oh?" A cold killing edge cut the air, interrupting him without warning. "Mark what, exactly?" The voice was not loud, yet it struck through the heavy atmosphere with perfect clarity.

In the tent's shadowed corner, space rippled like water. A tall, straight figure tore the air and stepped out of nothing. Short black hair, slightly disheveled. Ryo.

He simply stood there, not even bothering to look at Danzō directly. Yet an intangible, domineering pressure flooded the room. It was pure slaughter, so pure that even Danzō, who reveled in intrigue and darkness, felt a chill .

Danzō's breath hitched. He whirled and met Ryo's gaze, serene to the point of horror, fathomless. There was no provocation, no anger, only a detached appraisal, the way one might look at an inanimate object.

"Hmph." Danzō forced a snort. He didn't dare hold Ryo's eyes for long, wary of being crushed again by that dreadful aura.

"Kamiyama Ryo. I expect a full, detailed mission report. You had better have truly completed your task." He left the line like a threat, but didn't risk another glance at Ryo or Tsunade. He turned and left in hurried steps, back stiff, an exit that looked, no matter how one squinted at it, like a clumsy attempt to hide his retreat.

The heavy curtain fell back, cutting off that hateful presence.

The air in the tent instantly loosened, the earlier gunpowder haze carried away by a faint breeze.

The chill in Ryo's aura receded like a tide.

Seeing Tsunade still fuming, chest rising and falling, he let his mouth curl into a relaxed arc and teased lightly, "Heh. As expected of you, crazy woman. A few lines and you almost made that fossil pass out."

"Ha." Tsunade flung a roll of medical reports at him. He caught it without effort.

"Impudent brat." She shot him a glare, then her eyes flicked over him, sharpening as her brows knotted. "Get over here. Look at yourself. Your clothes are in tatters. You're covered in wounds, the blood hasn't even dried. At this rate, the day you die somewhere with no corpse left to find, I won't be surprised." Her words were harsh, but the worry beneath them was plain.

She strode over and seized his arm, hard enough to make Ryo grit his teeth.

Her examination was quick and professional. Fingers pressed his shoulders, arms, chest, abdomen. Amber eyes were unyielding, with a thread of worry buried deep. "You ran into a real monster, didn't you? Which blind bastard did this to you?"

"Mm. An old monster, all right." Ryo let her fuss over him. Around Tsunade, the tension he lived in eased without him noticing.

Here, he didn't have to force the facade of cold strength. Maybe because she had seen him at his worst, raw and ragged beneath the white glare of the infirmary lamps, any mask felt pointless.

"Kakuzu. A bounty-hunting freak, rumor has it he once tried to assassinate the First Hokage, Senju Hashirama."

"What, assassinate my grandpa?!" Tsunade's hands froze. She looked up, disbelief curdling into a cold, mocking smile.

"Him? Kakuzu?" She snorted. "Please. He probably lobbed a kunai from miles away and called it a successful attack on the God of Shinobi."

In her mind, the world's strong divided neatly into two categories, Senju Hashirama and everyone else.

The gap was an abyss.

"Alright, alright." Ryo rolled the shoulder she had been manipulating, signaling her to stop. "These are flesh wounds. I'm not dying today. No need to trouble you, Tsunade-sensei. A few rounds of grilled meat and I'll be fine." He trusted his own recovery. Unless it was venom that ate to the core, like that time when rescuing Tsunade's team, or an injury draining his life itself, this kind of damage was routine.

"As you wish." Tsunade snatched her hands back with a huff and reached for cotton and disinfectant. Still, she kept needling him. "And how many times have I told you, don't call me Tsunade-sensei. I don't have a headache like you for a student."

She glared again, a flicker of awkwardness darting under the surface. "Funny how you remember the word sensei when you're in trouble. When you're fine, it's crazy woman this and crazy woman that. I see right through you, only respectful when you need something."

Ryo chuckled, understanding. "Whatever makes you happy." He knew her well. This contrariness was just her crooked way of caring.

He dropped the matter of address and got straight to the point. "During the mission in Kusa, I met someone."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 107: Dearest Nabekage

Tsunade arched a brow, motioning for him to go on.

"A little girl of the Uzumaki clan. The only survivor," Ryo's voice sank, his eyes hardening. "Her name is Kaori. She's from Kushina's people, same bloodline. I have to bring her to Konoha. If Kushina finds out, she'll be over the moon. It's just…" He paused and looked at Tsunade.

"You know how the village's hidebound rules are. A newcomer, especially an Uzumaki child, won't escape interrogations and gossip. I need you, as Konoha's Princess, to stand with her publicly and vouch for her. That will shut a few high-ranking mouths." He laid out his core request plainly, without hiding the reason he had gone on a killing spree.

As for Kitsuchi, that big gift bag, Ryo already had a plan. Dumping the mess on a certain insidious old man was perfect. Danzō was, after all, a professional scapegoat.

Seeing the unshakable resolve in Ryo's eyes, especially at the mention of Kushina's kin, Tsunade's gaze flickered.

She lifted her teacup, took a sip, and muttered in a tone that seemed unchanged yet slightly off, "Hmph, no wonder the Grass ended up like that… turns out…"

She left the sentence hanging. Even she didn't notice the faint, almost imperceptible sour note at the end. Was it because he had risked himself so much for another woman's kin?

"Of course." Tsunade instantly swept away that wisp of awkwardness and slapped the table hard enough to rattle the papers.

When it came to the Uzumaki, the Senju's ally for generations, duty surged to the fore. She spoke without hesitation. "Uzumaki business is Tsunade's business. Leave the little girl to me. We'll see who dares breathe a word." Her declaration brimmed with protective ferocity, the responsibility carved into her bones.

"That's enough. Thanks." Relief finally tugged a smile at Ryo's lips. With Tsunade backing her, the biggest barrier to Kaori finding footing in Konoha was as good as cleared.

The next instant, his afterimage thinned and vanished. The air only trembled with the faintest ripple of space.

"Hey. Wait. You brat." Tsunade froze, eyes widening at the spot where Ryo had disappeared, realization dawning a beat late. "Hold on, how did he get in here?!" A key question, one she had overlooked, surged to the front of her mind.

She had been fuming at Danzō, then distracted by Ryo's injuries, never stopping to consider how he had appeared in the medical office without a sound.

"The Flying Thunder God." The answer was obvious.

"Don't tell me…" Tsunade's face shifted through several shades. As a top-tier medical ninja, her sensitivity to the body and chakra was second to none.

She stopped what she was doing and ran her chakra through herself from crown to toes, an internal sweep for any foreign imprint of a space-time technique.

The feeling was awful. Having a spatial coordinate left on you without your knowledge, for someone of her level, was like having your front door flung wide open.

Her expression turned complicated. Shock, a flash of irritation, and something deeper she couldn't name. Where was the mark? When had he set it? That audacious little—

Before she could put the pieces together, space at the center of the room rippled again, like a stone dropped into a lake.

"Ah." Ryo appeared once more. This time, he wasn't alone. He had brought four attachments.

"Big sis!" A young, energetic voice rang out first. Nawaki spotted Tsunade behind the desk and shouted like thunder.

But Tsunade, still reeling from the discovery of the FTG mark and still probing for its exact location, wasn't wearing a pleasant face. Startled by her gloomy look, Nawaki hunched his neck. His voice shrank to nothing as he clamped his mouth shut.

At Ryo's side stood a frail little girl dressed in Mikoto's clothes. Her light red hair was dull, like withered grass. Her small face was smudged with dirt, but her large, clear eyes brimmed with unease. Uzumaki Kaori.

Instinctively, she edged behind Ryo, clutching the bloody hem of his clothes like a castaway clinging to the only piece of driftwood.

The instant Tsunade's gaze left Nawaki and fell on Kaori, all the anger, gloom, and complicated feelings melted like frost beneath the sun.

Her eyes grew infinitely gentle, full of kinship and the empathy of one clan's ally for another's orphan.

She circled the desk, crouched down to meet Kaori at eye level, and let a bright, warm smile blossom across her face.

"You must be Kaori?" Her voice softened until it was barely a ripple, as if a louder word might startle a trembling bird. "I'm Tsunade. From now on, I'm your big sister. Here, no one will bully you again." She extended her hand, but didn't touch, keeping a distance that felt safe. "Come on, call me big sis."

Kaori lifted her head, glanced nervously at this powerful, warm woman, then looked to Ryo, eyes clear and trusting, asking silently.

Ryo gave her a steady, encouraging look and nodded. "Go on, Kaori. It's alright. This is your Sister Tsunade. She'll protect you."

With his reassurance, the taut lines of Kaori's face loosened a little. Staring at the beautiful, strong, golden-haired sister before her, she mustered all her courage, opened her mouth, and called out in a thin, hopeful voice, "…Big sis."

"Mm." Tsunade answered at once, her smile dazzling as sunshine. Her natural social grace surged forth. She took Kaori's small, almost skin-and-bones hand without a trace of distaste.

"What cold hands. Hungry, aren't you? I'll take you for grilled meat in a bit, eat till you're full. And this hair…" As she spoke, she pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped the dirt from Kaori's face, movements as delicate as if handling a priceless treasure.

"We'll take good care of you. Soon your hair will be prettier than mine." In a few soft lines, the skittish little girl, though still shy, had eased noticeably. Her tiny hand quietly closed around Tsunade's warm fingers in return.

Nawaki and Mikoto watched the tender scene with quiet curiosity.

Only then, having soothed the little one, did Tsunade seem to remember something. Her eyes cut sharply to the last item Ryo had brought back, the one he had casually dumped on the floor, trussed tight and unconscious.

The man was tall, but now bruised blue and purple. His earth-yellow outfit was a mess, at least a dozen wounds still seeping with the coppery scent of blood and dust.

"What's this one's story?" Tsunade straightened, nudging the lump with the tip of her sandal, brows knitting again. The features looked familiar, but beaten so badly she couldn't place him at a glance.

Nawaki, whose earlier interruption had been shut down, finally seized the chance to perform.

"Sis, sis, I know." He puffed out his chest, face alight with excitement and irrepressible pride, pointing at the man on the ground. "This guy's a big fish. You'll freak when you hear, he's—"

"Shut it, idiot." Tsunade shot her brother a glare. His rashness left her speechless. She knew exactly where Nawaki's ceiling was. No big fish of this caliber would be bagged by a Genin like him.

Her gaze snapped to Ryo like lightning. "You little menace, who is he? Where'd you get him? Don't you dare play dumb, another prisoner you picked up while stirring trouble outside?"

Ryo shrugged, unmoved by Nawaki's bluster. "Mm. A bargaining chip with some value. Inconvenient to kill, so I brought him in. Time to let Danzō carry a pot."

He didn't hide his intention. "He's an Iwa jōnin, Kitsuchi. To be precise, he's the son of the Tsuchikage, Ōnoki." He dropped the bomb flatly, then added, "He needs to stay alive, and in presentable condition. Patch him up with your medical ninjutsu so he doesn't die. A living Ōnoki's son is worth something."

Tsunade's impatient expression froze.

Iwa-nin.

Ōnoki's son.

This fish weighed far more than she had expected, practically dynamite fishing. She had to reassess just how big a splash this not-my-student of hers had made outside.

"The Tsuchikage's son?" Even with all she had weathered, her pupils pinched tight. She understood instantly why Ryo didn't want to kill him, and why he would use him as leverage.

Kill him, and it's a blood feud with a whole village.

But alive, the value skyrockets, not just intel, but a strategic bargaining chip. Her look toward Ryo turned complicated. This kid had guts the size of the sky, and he never missed a chance to profit, even tossing the blame neatly onto Danzō on the way.

She drew a deep breath. Their relationship had always been more like peers. Now, seeing his calculation and daring, trust rose easily to the surface. Tsunade met Ryo's eyes and said crisply, "Got it. Handle it your way." She believed in his judgment and ability, and knew how to coordinate the aftermath. That was Ryo, always pulling off the unexpected that still made perfect sense.

She didn't press further. Turning to the unconscious Kitsuchi, she squatted with practiced ease. Gentle green chakra blossomed over her hands and flowed into his most serious wounds. For the legendary medic of the Sannin, stabilizing this level of trauma was trivial. Soon, she withdrew her chakra. Kitsuchi remained battered and out cold, but his life was no longer in danger. He wouldn't die from his injuries anytime soon.

"Done. He'll live," Tsunade said, flicking her hands.

"Thanks." Ryo nodded, hoisted the still-unconscious Kitsuchi like a sack, and slung him over his shoulder.

"I'll go report the mission to a certain champion of hardline foreign policy," he said with a crooked smile, clearly meaning Danzō.

Before the words had fully settled, Ryo and his gift bag vanished with a ripple.

Silence fell over the office.

Nawaki opened his mouth as if to speak, then scratched his head at the empty space where Ryo had been. Mikoto stood quietly to the side, her gaze soft on Kaori. Tsunade, meanwhile, had already laced her fingers through Kaori's, a broad, protective grin back on her face.

"Come on, Kaori. First a bath and clean clothes, then Sister's taking you out for a big meal of grilled meat."

(To be continued.)