"Um…"
Namikaze Kirito nodded, lifted the teacup on the table, and drank it down in one go.
"But—"
Bang!
Before Shizune could continue, a sharp sound cut through the air.
Two hands slammed down onto the table.
The sudden noise drew the attention of everyone in the shop.
"What are you doing, trying to stop him?" Tsunade snapped. "Annoying little brat. If you're leaving, then leave quickly. Don't stay here every day and get in my way."
Namikaze Kirito calmly reached out and gently pressed down on Tsunade's hand.
"How old are you, really?" he said quietly. "Throwing things every time you're unhappy. Sensei… thank you for everything these past years."
"Tch. Meddlesome brat."
Tsunade pulled her hand back and wiped it with a tissue in visible disgust, though the haze of alcohol still lingered in her eyes.
"Shizune," Kirito said seriously, turning to her, "while I'm away, I'll be counting on you to look after her. I have something I must do… but I'll be back."
"Kirito-kun…" Shizune said anxiously. "Don't worry about us—that's my responsibility. But you… you're still young. You must be careful out there."
After that, none of them spoke again.
They each ate the barbecue in front of them, lost in their own thoughts. The meat was perfectly cooked, but no one seemed to taste it.
Night
Inside the hot-spring hotel.
Kirito didn't pack anything.
All the books and tools he needed had long since been stored inside the dark space. There was nothing to prepare.
On the way back, Shizune hesitated several times as if she wanted to speak. Tsunade, meanwhile, ignored Kirito from beginning to end.
He understood.
He was the one who had come to Tsunade seeking guidance.
And now, after all these years, he was also the one choosing to leave.
Kirito let out a soft sigh, lay down on the bed, and decided he would say goodbye properly the next morning.
Midnight
Kirito suddenly opened his eyes.
Observation Haki kept his senses alert—even in sleep. The moment someone approached, he woke instantly.
But he didn't move.
Because he already knew who it was.
Tsunade staggered into his room once again.
This had happened more times than he could count. He was already used to it.
She was wearing thin silk pajamas, her figure hazy and dangerously alluring. If it were anyone else, reason would have vanished long ago but Kirito forced himself to stay calm.
Thud.
Tsunade collapsed onto the bed unsteadily.
Her soft thighs slipped over him, and she pulled him tightly into her arms.
This time, her grip was much stronger.
If Kirito's body hadn't grown so much over the years, he might actually have suffocated.
Rustle…
"H-Hey—damn it…"
Drunk and half-conscious, Tsunade's limbs shifted unpredictably. She had no idea how dangerous this was for someone who was, at heart, still an otaku across two lifetimes.
Her foot slid to a place it really shouldn't have and kept moving unconsciously.
Kirito inhaled sharply.
This was bad.
Really bad.
Her beautiful face was close. Too close.
Her breath brushed against his skin, carrying the faint scent of alcohol mixed with warmth.
It was torture.
His gaze drifted to her lips—bright, soft, almost glowing in the dim light. Without thinking, he leaned closer.
Just as he was about to cross the line...
He met her eyes.
They were clear, bright like moonlight, yet clouded with confusion… and loneliness.
"Are you leaving me too?" she muttered. "Brat…"
The words hit harder than any punch.
All the inappropriate thoughts vanished instantly.
Kirito met her gaze and spoke softly.
"I'll never leave."
Tsunade's eyes slowly closed.
Her breathing evened out as she fell into a deep sleep.
Kirito exhaled, then gently closed his own eyes.
Nothing happened that night.
Dawn
Before the sky fully brightened, Kirito opened his eyes.
Carefully, he eased Tsunade's arms and legs away, step by step, without waking her.
He decided to leave without a farewell.
Some goodbyes were too painful.
Just as he reached the door, a faint voice came from behind him—almost inaudible.
"Travel safely."
Kirito paused.
"…Yeah. I'm heading out."
He didn't turn back.
The door opened, then closed quietly behind him.
After he left, Tsunade slowly sat up on the bed, staring at the empty doorway.
A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"…Should've kept my eyes open a little longer last night."
"What a brat. All heart, no guts."
At Sea
Kirito stood on the deck of the ship bound for the Land of Fire, gazing out at the endless ocean.
He tried to read his medical texts.
But his thoughts kept drifting back to last night.
"…She's my Sensei," he muttered. "This is messed up."
Konoha Village — That Same Night
Konoha was unusually peaceful.
Villagers went about their lives as usual, unaware that anything was wrong.
But something was off.
Not a single member of the Uchiha Police Force could be seen.
Normally, even late at night, Uchiha patrols would be active. Disorder, drunken fights—those were their responsibility.
Tonight, there was nothing.
In the shadows, countless black figures flickered silently across rooftops and alleys.
ANBU.
Far too many.
Even veteran ninja sensed something was wrong but couldn't pinpoint it.
Even the ANBU themselves didn't know the full reason.
They had only received one order from the Hokage:
Observe. Eliminate abnormalities. Leave no witnesses.
Uchiha District
That night, a clan meeting had just ended.
Uchiha leadership had made their decision.
Rebellion.
Years of suppression had driven them to the edge.
If the Fourth Hokage were still alive, this would never have happened.
But the Third had returned and the Uchiha were once again pushed to the village's margins.
The plan was set.
Seize Konoha's leadership. Purge resistance. Restore Uchiha rule.
Each participant returned home, hearts pounding with tension and resolve.
They went to sleep… unaware.
Shink.
Black silhouettes moved.
Doors opened silently.
Blades flashed.
When the figures reemerged, their swords were drenched in blood.
Under the cold moonlight, it gleamed brightly.
The Uchiha Massacre had begun.
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