"So you chased me out here and beat me up as a thank you?"
Ryo finally could not hold it in. His voice was edged with anger and absurdity, almost a roar.
He pointed at his mud-soaked clothes. "You beat me from one end of the forest to the other and nearly had me swallowed by a water dragon. Is this how you say thank you?!"
"Right. What else?" Tsunade raised an eyebrow, so righteous it made one want to spit blood. "Beat you, make you work, sweat a little. Is that not the most practical? Do you want me to bring you tea, bow, and say 'thank you'?"
She sneered. "Empty talk. A fight stretches your muscles, loosens your body. Didn't you notice how much sharper your movements got after the spar?"
She raised her chin, referring to Ryo's integration increase during the battle, eyes slightly teasing. "What? My 'thank you gift' was not hard enough? Not exciting enough?"
Ryo almost laughed at the nonsense.
"Alright then. Thanks for the… heartfelt thanks." He let the sarcasm bite.
"Second, I am testing you." Tsunade's voice turned serious. "It is no coincidence you can dominate the Ninja Academy. That 'thank you gift' was enough for me to measure your weight."
"The result?" Ryo met her gaze, cold and steady.
He did not need compliments. He wanted to know her aim.
"So-so." Tsunade gave a neutral verdict, tone flat, eyes sharp. "Your hard power is enough. Thick skin and raw strength. Your fighting style is rough, but there is real substance in your core. Those flexible sword moves do not look like something a brat should have, which is interesting. If I am not mistaken, you are barely passable, stuck at the threshold of Jōnin."
She paused, emphasizing, "Pay attention, barely. Your only edge is being tough and strong."
She took two steps and met Ryo's stubborn gaze. "Your swordsmanship looks crude, but it is blended with a fierce intuition honed through life-and-death fights. There is also a kind of… tsk, hard to describe, like the 'intent' that only a veteran soaked in the sword for decades can possess. It is still vague, like a bud. Boy, who taught you?"
The last question, probing and scrutinizing, went straight to the core.
Her eyesight was vicious.
Even if Shanks' experience was only integrated to 35 percent, that instinctive intent and flexible skill, forged by top masters, had begun to show.
"No one taught me." He sidestepped, voice cold and hard. "I figured it out. After chopping pigs enough times, it came naturally."
"Heh." Tsunade was unconvinced, but she did not press. She snorted. "Fine, I will treat you as a rare talent among wild butchers. But," she shifted without giving room to argue, "you only have stone-like strength and the reckless charge of a boar. Without someone to sharpen the diamond, you only become a better whetstone. You think you are strong? Not even close. If all you know is fighting, you will end up as emotionless fodder for Danzō."
At the mention of Danzō, a cold light flashed in Ryo's eyes.
"Kid," Tsunade walked up, close enough to see his bristling red hair, "someone thinks you are good material and wants me to take you as my apprentice and point you the right way." She leaned in slightly, pressure settling. "Do you know who?"
An image flashed in Ryo's mind, an old pervert with a crystal ball peeping in the office.
"…Hokage?"
"That is right. Sarutobi Hiruzen has taken a liking to you. He thinks you can inherit his Will of Fire." Tsunade straightened, a hint of teasing and pride in her tone. "However, if you want to be my disciple, the old man's recommendation and your bit of brute force are not enough."
She raised two fingers, passing sentence.
"First, meeting the power requirement is your ticket. That 'exam' was the entry ticket. You barely qualify for a second look."
"The second, and most important, rule," Tsunade's eyes turned needle-sharp, her voice dropping with unquestionable weight, "your temper, character, and mindset must pass with me. If you are a disciple who does not suit my taste, whether recommended by Sarutobi Hiruzen or the son of the Rikudō Sennin, get out."
In Konoha, no one could force Tsunade to accept someone she did not approve of.
Ryo stood there, wet clothes clinging, silent as stone. He looked at Tsunade, digesting it.
Hiruzen had high hopes and wanted to push him toward a bright path.
Danzō coveted him and wanted to drag him into Root.
Danger and opportunity, together.
"So," Ryo said, his voice back to its usual coldness, anger faded, "you came tonight to beat me as thanks and to test my strength. The Hokage asked you to take me as your apprentice. You felt I was 'barely' qualified, so you decided to observe first."
"Your little brain is sharp." Tsunade grinned with a hint of malicious admiration. "Half right. Besides what the old man said, there is Kushina."
She brought up Kushina again, eyes full of meaning. "That little girl treats you… ahem. Anyway, for Kushina's sake, I am giving you more 'testing.' Otherwise, do you think your crude sword and brute strength are worth me running through the Forest of Death at night and getting soaked?"
The corner of Ryo's mouth twitched.
Tsunade did not seem to notice his displeasure. She waved the meat in her hand and jumped topics like a shunshin. "Alright, reasons explained. This meat is my medical fee."
"Medical fee?" Ryo's tone sharpened, his eyes cutting to a piece of pork neck and the best leg meat she was lifting.
His forehead vein twitched.
He jabbed a finger at the creaking door.
"The door's there. I've had enough talk. I still need to train."
Tsunade paused, studying his face, then smirked. "Hahaha. Fine, fine. I'll go."
She knew her "thanks" and "test" logic was… unique.
Goal achieved. Time to leave.
She turned, scooped up the meat, and strode off. Under the moonlight, her back was crisp and neat.
Bang. The wooden door slammed shut with a heavy thud, echoed by the earth wall.
(To be continued.)
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