While Orochimaru remained in Ryūchi Cave, throwing himself into the great task of mastering Sage Mode, Uchiha Gen turned his attention to the Sage Arts archive.
The archive was vast, a treasury of techniques built from thousands of years of study. Within its walls were scrolls covering Taijutsu, Genjutsu, Snake-based Sage Arts, and even unique secret techniques.
Most were designed for serpents and thus ill-suited to humans, but not all. A handful could be adapted, and many more offered inspiration.
Among them, one in particular caught Gen's eye, Sage Art: Inorganic Reincarnation.
This technique could breathe life into inanimate matter and command it through a form of reincarnation ninjutsu. Unlike ordinary chakra-based manipulation, under this art, stone and metal moved with speed and intent.
It was a perfect complement to his Soul-Soul Fruit ability. In his hands, its potential could far exceed its design.
Interestingly, the archive lacked Sage Art: White Rage.
Gen quickly deduced why. That technique was likely not an ancient Ryūchi Cave art at all, but Kabuto's personal creation, tailored to his unique physiology.
The snakes' translucent corneal membrane could shield them from blinding light, yes, but their bodies could not liquefy. White Rage, being an indiscriminate technique of light, sound, and vibration, would harm the user as much as the enemy. Kabuto had clearly modified it for himself, a case of harming a thousand foes at the cost of eight hundred wounds.
Gen studied tirelessly. He memorized what he could not yet master, absorbed ideas from Orochimaru and the great snakes.
His days were busy, but satisfying.
It was nothing like the exhaustion of working under a boss's orders. This was real progress, tangible and exhilarating. When you can feel yourself advancing, perseverance comes easily.
A week passed before he knew it. Confident he had learned all he could for now, Gen bid farewell to the White Snake Sage, Orochimaru, and the others, then departed.
Ryūchi Cave had value, but its dark, oppressive atmosphere was no place for a human to linger. Too long there and even strong minds could fracture.
Gen, despite his resilience, disliked it.
After emerging into the open sky, he summoned Kyouki. Cloaked in clouds and mist, he crossed leisurely over the Land of Stone, the Land of Birds, and the Land of Rain, until the forests of the Land of Fire came into view.
By then it was mealtime. And if there was one principle Gen believed in; eat on time whenever possible. It kept both body and mind in balance.
He descended into a nearby town, asked around for its best restaurant, and set off in that direction. Along the way, he passed a gambling hall just as two dejected figures stumbled out.
The first was striking. Long blonde hair tied into a high ponytail, a violet diamond mark on her forehead, brown eyes sharp with experience, lips full, nails lacquered crimson. Her fair skin glowed against her tea-green haori, which draped over a loose, sleeveless blouse cinched with a black sash. Dark-blue shinobi pants completed the look. She was statuesque, radiant, mature, every inch the legendary Sannin, Tsunade.
Behind her walked a quieter figure. Black-grey robes, cropped hair, a gentle face and shy demeanor, Shizune, Tsunade's loyal apprentice.
At that moment, Shizune was scolding.
"Lady Tsunade, I told you not to gamble. You should have stopped. Now look, we've lost our meal money. What are we supposed to eat?"
"Hehe… how could we possibly go hungry?" Tsunade chuckled, breezy despite the loss.
"You must have some hidden cash stashed away. Come on, hand it over. I need a good drink to wash down this indignation."
"No! We don't have much left as it is. We need to save."
"It's fine, we can borrow. I have connections. People will lend me money."
And it was true. With her status, her strength, and her medical skill, there were countless across the shinobi world who would lend to her without hesitation.
But Shizune was adamant. "Absolutely not! If we borrow, you'll gamble it away again. You always lose. Just watching you makes my chest hurt."
Before Tsunade could reply, a figure stepped into their path.
"Senior Tsunade," Gen said with a smile. "What a coincidence."
Both women looked up. Shizune's cheeks warmed when she recognized him. Tsunade, too, brightened slightly, her mood lifting at the sight of her fellow Konoha-nin.
"Oh, it's you. How's that guy Orochimaru these days?" she asked.
Gen answered smoothly. "Sensei no longer involves himself in Konoha's affairs. He's absorbed in research, eating well, in good health. He's doing fine."
So he'd cut ties, Tsunade thought. Typical of him. Those old fools in the village must have pushed too far again. Still… if Orochimaru had moved on, that was for the best.
Nodding, she gestured to her companion. "Good. I'm glad. This is my disciple, Shizune. And this is Orochimaru's disciple, Uchiha Gen."
Gen gave a polite smile. "We're all family then. I'll just call you Shizune. Hello."
"Hello, Gen," she replied softly, her composure returning.
"What brings you here?" Tsunade asked.
"Just finished some business. It's mealtime, so I thought I'd stop to eat before heading back to Konoha."
At the mention of food, Tsunade's eyes gleamed. "We haven't eaten either. Why don't we eat together?"
"Of course. I just found out where the best restaurant in town is. Come, it's my treat."
What a sensible boy, Tsunade thought, secretly pleased. Out loud, she feigned protest. "How can I let you pay? You're the junior. Where would my dignity as a senior be?"
Shizune sighed inwardly. So, because it's not your money, it's fine? But she said nothing.
Gen smiled. "Let me show my sincerity this time. Next time we meet, Senior Tsunade, you can treat me."
Tsunade pretended to think, then relented. "All right."
Shizune exhaled in relief. The little money she'd hidden was safe.
The three plus Tonton the pig headed to the restaurant, which turned out to be an izakaya. Gen wasted no time showing what it meant to be a big spender.
Signature dishes, ordinary dishes, everything was ordered. For drinks, only the finest sake.
Even Shizune, who was quietly gasping inside, couldn't object. Tsunade, worldly as she was, merely raised a brow and then grinned widely.
This was sincerity. Like expecting hotpot with a friend, only to be greeted with a full imperial banquet instead.
It wasn't extravagance, either. Izakaya portions were small. To truly eat, one had to order broadly. And tonight wasn't just drinking, it was a proper meal.
The servers moved fast. Soon, their table overflowed with steaming plates, filling the private room with savory aromas.
"Come," Gen raised his glass. "A toast."
Tsunade held hers up, then paused. "Wait...you're not of age, are you?"
Gen laughed. "I'm seventeen. Eighteen this year, by lunar count. I've been drinking with Sensei for ages."
The ninja world matured early. Officially, adulthood was eighteen, but sixteen was already treated as grown. Shizune herself was seventeen this year.
"Is that so? Then cheers."
Their glasses clinked. Sake flowed, chopsticks clicked and conversation warmed.
"Funny," Tsunade said between bites, "Orochimaru never liked drinking. Jiraiya and I tried to coax him, but he rarely joined. How did you manage?"
"Maybe my cooking paired well with alcohol," Gen replied with a shrug.
"You cook?" she blinked, surprised.
"What did you expect? How would I survive otherwise?"
"Oh...right." She caught herself mid-sentence.
"You forgot I'm an orphan?" Gen said lightly.
"…Yes. Sorry."
"It's fine. I stopped caring long ago. The dead are gone. Dwelling on it is pointless. Better to live freely. That's what they'd want, for the living to laugh again."
Tsunade stared at him. His casual smile, his unburdened air, it stirred envy in her. She had never let go of Nawaki or Dan.
"Maybe you're right," she said quietly, downing her sake. "But it isn't easy."
"Then find new meaning. Replace the past with the present."
"And if I don't want to replace it?"
"Then don't," Gen answered simply. "So long as your world doesn't hurt others, there's nothing wrong with living in it."
Tsunade burst into laughter, lifting her cup. "You talk smooth for a kid. But I like it. Drink!"
Their cups met again.
Shizune could only sigh, urging her teacher to eat more between sips.
They talked of Konoha. Of the police force. Of his Mangekyō Sharingan.
Tsunade admitted she didn't follow village politics, but she'd heard of him, news of Uchiha Gen was spreading across the shinobi world.
Her advice was sober despite the alcohol. "The Mangekyō means you've known despair. Don't lose yourself to it."
"I won't," Gen said firmly.
"I can see that. Otherwise, I wouldn't bother telling you."
As the night stretched on, the sake bottles emptied and faces flushed.
Tsunade, overheating, shed her green haori. Pale arms caught the lamplight. Her legendary chest seemed to defy gravity even as she leaned forward. Combined with the scent of a mature woman, it was almost too much.
Gen's eyes flicked once, then back to his cup. He controlled himself, though his toasts became more frequent. Shizune, shy as she was, couldn't refuse, and Tsunade never set it down until empty.
But alcohol couldn't be purged with chakra, not fully. By the end, all three were drunk, Tsunade most of all. She wasn't unconscious, but walking straight was impossible. Shizune too swayed, her balance gone.
After Gen settled the bill, Shizune asked him to help get Tsunade back to their inn.
He agreed at once. Perhaps those frequent toasts had been for this very opportunity.
Shizune supported her right. Gen took her left. Tsunade leaned heavily, her chest brushing Gen's arm again and again.
He summed the experience in six words.
Soft. Springy. Premium quality.
And the scent, warm sake, faint perfume, mature womanhood, it wrapped around him, stirring fires he'd tried to quiet in Ryūchi Cave. By the time they reached the inn, he almost regretted drinking so much.
Once Tsunade was safely inside, Gen bid them farewell. Then, with a flash of Flying Thunder God, he vanished straight back to Konoha.
When soldiers come, you block. When water rises, you dam. But when fire burns too hot only one way to put it out.
At home, Mikoto greeted him with a smile, apron tied, her gentle aura filling the room.
"Welcome home," she said warmly, handing him his slippers.
"Where are Itachi and Sasuke?"
"Itachi's at the Academy. Sasuke's napping after play."
Gen's eyes glinted. He scooped her up in his arms. She gasped. "In broad daylight?"
"It's all the same," he grinned, carrying her toward the bedroom.
She blushed, whispering, "Then be quick. Sasuke might wake."
"You know my skills," he teased. "With your effort, maybe we'll make it in time."
"You're impossible…"
Mikoto sighed, then wrapped her arms around his neck, eyes closing as his shadow fell over her.
Half an hour later, little Sasuke woke in his own room. He rubbed his eyes, blinked, and padded off in search of his mother.