Tsunade carried a tray with several small dishes, a small pot of sake, and a single cup.
The food was meant to be shared with Shizune, but the alcohol was for Tsunade alone. Though Shizune had reached the age where she could drink, she needed to stay alert while by Tsunade's side and couldn't touch such things.
Since Tsunade got drunk easily yet couldn't stop once she started, Shizune had taken on the role of watching over her.
After setting the tray on the table, Tsunade noticed that the young boy sitting across from her hadn't even lifted his head—he was completely immersed in his own little world, indifferent or perhaps unwilling to care about what lay beyond.
Without a word, Tsunade took out the dishes and the sake, smiling as she poured herself a drink.
When it came to drinking, Tsunade certainly knew a thing or two. Ever since she was very young—when her grandfather, none other than Hashirama Senju—had dabbed some wine onto chopsticks and touched them to her lips, she had remembered that taste.
Over the past few decades, whenever she found free time, she would pour herself a few cups. It not only lifted her spirits, but also benefited her body, promoting blood circulation and vital energy.
"Tsunade-sama, you're drinking again? It's barely noon!"
Shizune saw what Tsunade held in her hands and puffed her cheeks, eyes widening in exasperation, revealing helplessness behind her gaze.
"Oh come on, we're practically back at the village already—having a bit won't hurt! I even came back for your sake! Don't you think you should take care of me a little?"
Tsunade filled another cup, then delicately tasted it with her full lips before looking toward Shizune and speaking.
"Ahh…" Shizune lowered her head, knitting her brows together. She stopped trying to reason with Tsunade and focused instead on eating the two dishes in front of her.
One dish was dry-fried green beans, the other salt-baked mackerel—both simple, yet favorites among her meals.
Tsunade withdrew her gaze from Shizune, letting it briefly rest upon the teenage boy across from her before lifting her cup once more to savor its contents thoughtfully.
Drinking wasn't just about the alcohol itself—it was something to be savored with time and life's many ups and downs. This was why Tsunade fell in love with it; it offered strength to persevere through years—or served simply as a means of escape.
That old saying rang true: "Don't talk while eating, and don't chat while lying down." Tsunade, Shizune, and the boy named Ephemeral had all followed this custom without even realizing it.
Snap! Ephemeral set his chopsticks down. The plate of peanuts before him was now empty, the bottle of sake was drained, and the salmon sushi he'd ordered was gone.
Shizune paused mid-meal, slightly raising her head. The young man appeared quite drunk—the flush on his face was unmistakable—but his eyes remained sharp, retaining the last flicker of clarity.
As she prepared to call out and warn him to be careful, she watched him brace himself against the table, stand upright, then step forward and walk straight outside.
"What a strange person!"
Looking at Ephemeral's retreating figure, a thought immediately crossed Shizune's mind, followed closely by the memory of someone else.
"Saitama Uchiha always gave off a cold aura too, but would warm up significantly around those he knew well."
Of course, Shizune was thinking of Saitama Uchiha, the boy she hadn't seen in nearly five or six years.
Oh, well, he should probably be called a man by now—after all, Saitama was in his mid-teens.
Shizune shifted her gaze and noticed Tsunade also watching the young boy who was about to leave the izakaya.
"Tsunade-sama?"
Shizune gave a little tap with her chopstick to pull Tsunade's attention back.
"What is it, Shizune?"
Tsunade snapped out of her trance, picked up her cup, took another sip, and asked.
"Not much. I just saw you were really focused on him, so I got curious!"
Shizune swept her bangs back with her left hand, tucking them behind her ear as she replied.
Tsunade paused for a moment, waiting until Ephemeral disappeared through the doorway before continuing, "Did you notice? There was an incredible chakra inside that boy just now—he mustn't be ordinary!"
Tsunade's voice was low, and with many people in the izakaya, she didn't attract any outside attention.
"Oh? I…didn't really pay attention…"
Shizune lowered her head slightly, appearing somewhat embarrassed—she had been too focused on the boy's demeanor, similar to Saitama's, and his long, unconventional bangs.
"Forget it. It's none of our business anyway. Let's eat peacefully. After dinner we need to hurry onward—we must arrive before sunset. I still want to take a relaxing bath."
Tsunade finished her cup of sake in one gulp, then picked up her chopsticks to start eating.
"Uh...okay!" Shizune nodded. Truthfully, she wanted to return earlier too, hoping to learn more about Saitama soon.
...
Ephemeral stepped out of the izakaya, rubbing his head with slight discomfort as he aimlessly strolled down the street.
The alcohol itself couldn't affect him significantly, but he intentionally kept the dizziness inside his body without using chakra to dispel it.
Ever since that day when he killed his teacher, he'd been drifting through life, avoiding the things he didn't want to face.
Alcohol allowed him temporary escape from those painful details.
Thinking it over, Ephemeral decided to walk beyond the town—he planned to keep wandering around the Land of Fire.
Compared to the Land of Fire, the Land of Water was miles behind in every way. No wonder it was known as the strongest among all shinobi nations.
Its prosperity outclassed other ninja countries—and that went for food, entertainment, everything.
Determined, Ephemeral resolved to fully experience everything the Land of Fire had to offer—no regrets.
As a Jinchuriki from Kirigakure, he rarely got chances to leave the village, let alone indulge in leisurely pleasures—it had only existed within dreams.
Recalling the mental map, Ephemeral knew this path would lead to a junction ahead.
One fork led to Konohagakure Village, while the other headed straight toward the Capital City of the Land of Fire.
Konoha was out of the question—he'd never get in. As a Jinchuriki, stepping into such a powerful shinobi village would almost certainly lead to capture or identification.
Therefore, his next destination was clearly the Capital City of the Land of Fire.
Clack! Clack! Clack! Even after drinking, Ephemeral walked steadily, each footfall keeping a calm, rhythmic pace.
Along the official road, specially approved by the Fire Daimyo, Ephemeral walked with a horn-shaped straw tube hanging at his waist. His slightly long bangs fluttered behind him in the breeze blowing past his ears.
He wore only a wide-sleeved indigo-blue shirt, exposing his chest and the well-defined muscles beneath.
His expression was blank, giving off an icy vibe.
At this moment, there were almost no people on the official road—the further he moved away from the previous town, the fewer people there were.
Ephemeral barely gave it a second thought. In the past, while locked away in the Forbidden Area behind the Mist village, he had gone ten days or even half a month without seeing another soul. He had long grown used to isolation.
Hu hu!
Another gust of wind blew over, lifting a thin layer of dust from the ground.
Besides the road itself, the area was covered in green grass and trees, showing off the distinct characteristics of the Land of Fire.
But right now, Ephemeral wasn't in the mood to appreciate any of these foreign plants he'd never seen back in the Mist village.
Because riding against the wind came a tall figure suddenly appearing less than ten meters in front of him—upright in posture, wearing a Black Cloak Bearing Red Clouds and a straw rain-hat that obscured their face.
"Six-Tails Jinchuriki, Ephemeral!"
Saitama's cold voice traveled through the wind and reached Ephemeral's ears. His expression changed instantly, and his right hand moved toward the weapon at his waist.
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