With his plan set, Shuji first spoke again with Hiroyama Makoto. Although Makoto was unhappy Shuji would depart and begged him to stay, Shuji's unshaken gaze—and the fact that two shinobi remained—finally convinced the merchant to consent.
Before long, Jirōchō Wasabi returned to invite Shuji to the Wasabi estate.
The Wasabi estate—named for its ruling clan—was not lavish but housed dozens of core members and relatives. Outside, the compound was heavily guarded: armed sentries and several watchtowers manned by vigilant lights.
Holding great respect among his kin, Jirōchō led Shuji through a fine paper door painted with pine and crane motifs into a serene courtyard. A small raked gravel garden was surrounded by covered walkways leading to intimate tea rooms and living quarters. Shuji paused and asked, "This is the rear compound?"
Jirōchō did not break stride. "Exactly. One honored guest awaits, Captain Shuji."
At a secluded bamboo-shaded pavilion, Jirōchō halted and bowed deeply: "Captain Shuji of Konoha has arrived."
The gate slid open soundlessly. A young woman stepped out—dark-blue plain clothes and neat black hair. Seventeen or eighteen years old, her face was gentle and calm with a healer's composure. Surprised at seeing Shuji, her expression shifted to polite study.
"Shizune?" Shuji realized.
Shizune's lips curved faintly as she beckoned Shuji in. "Please enter." Her tone was calm.
Jirōchō did not follow but quietly stood watch on the veranda. Shuji and Shizune entered the pavilion, and Shuji's eyes were drawn to the figure seated by a stone table.
Sunlight filtered through bamboo leaves onto carefully swept white gravel. A woman in a green robe lounged against a stone bench, her golden hair loose and glittering like molten metal in the light. Several sake bottles lay on the table, some empty. She raised a thick earthenware cup, tilting her head to gulp clear sake with near-greedy relish.
Her profile was strikingly sharp; smooth skin bore no sign of age despite her flowing golden locks—she appeared barely in her twenties.
It was indeed Tsunade.
"Eek?" Tsunade lowered her cup, using the back of her hand to wipe sake from her lips. Drunk and languid, she turned toward Shuji. Her amber eyes were vaporous with inebriation as she appraised him.
"Tsunade-dono, you've had too much," Shizune softly admonished. "Captain Shuji has arrived."
"Oh~ that brat?" Tsunade's words slurred in a nasally drawl.
"Grandmother Momoka is well," Shuji replied—his lips twitched. He deeply revered the elderly Senju who had raised him.
"Tee hee… that's good." The last Senju princess seemed unfazed by his pointed remark—if anything, her drunken state filtered out most external concerns. She swayed and pressed a hand on the table, steadying herself as she rose. Her form faltered slightly as she stepped close, breath reeking of sake, her misty gaze examining his calm, youthful face.
"I heard you nearly died… Grandmother Momoka even sent word to have me save you…" She hiccupped softly. "But look at you—bouncing around. Seems you're fine." She raised a finger as if to poke his chest, then retracted it. Her tone grew slurred: "Since you lived… why not just stay in the village? She's… seventy-eight… can't worry so much…"
The heavy scent of sake and perfume washed over Shuji. He stepped back and said, "I have duties commissioned by the village that must be fulfilled."
"Village, village… you still can't let go, even Grandpa…" Tsunade muttered, as though chewing over the word "village." "One after another—what's the point…"
Suddenly, with no warning, she lurched forward faster than a drunk should, and her slender yet terrifyingly strong hand pressed down on Shuji's shoulder!
"Ugh!" Shuji grunted as an irresistible force bore down on him. The paving stones beneath his feet cracked under the pressure, spider-webbing outward from his stance!
Tsunade's hazy gaze cleared in an instant, replaced by blade-sharp focus. She gripped his shoulder, eyes locking onto his: "You! Grandmother Momoka… gave you 'that,' didn't she?!"
Under Tsunade's bone-crushing grip, Shuji refined chakra. A dense azure aura, alive with vibrant energy, burst from his pores!
Boom!
The paving stones shattered, shards flying! A silent shockwave rippled out from Shuji and Tsunade, stirring the white gravel and whipping bamboo leaves into a frenzy! Shuji's form stiffened against the crushing force, though the pit beneath his foot grew deeper.
"Hmph!" Tsunade snorted, a knowing and complex laugh. She withdrew her hand, and the looming pressure vanished.
"Now, what urgent mission," Tsunade folded her arms and leaned back against the stone bench as if the brutal encounter never occurred, "could make the old man send you out here?"
Shizune watched, brow furrowed, caught between loyalty and concern.
Tsunade lifted her cup again. "I'll drink to that." She drank deeply as her amber eyes returned to their lazy softness—yet still held a spark of appraisal.
"You misunderstand," Shuji said, brushing phantom dust from his shoulder, voice calm as ever. "Grandmother Momoka's experiment was an accident and never revealed publicly. The Third Hokage may suspect, but only as a guess."
"And about this mission," Shuji continued, "Jirōchō Wasabi should have informed you."
Tsunade's long lashes cast shadows over her amber eyes as the courtyard once more echoed only with bamboo rustling.
Finishing her sake, she flung the cup onto the table with a clank. Without looking at Shuji, she reached for another bottle.
"Enough. Do as you will." Her tone turned lax again.
Shuji bowed slightly. "Yes, Lady Tsunade." He turned to leave with Shizune.
At the gate, Shuji paused, not looking back. His calm voice carried behind him: "Grandmother Momoka… misses you greatly. If you have the time, return to the village to visit."
Chapters in advance there: patreon.com/Thaniel_a_goodchild