Chapter 53 – Tsunade: I Feel Empty, Lonely, and Cold
"Damn it… damn it… damn it!"
Tsunade ran through the empty wilderness, the night wind biting at her cheeks as fragments of her miserable life flashed before her eyes.
She had once been the proud heiress of the Senju clan—
granddaughter of the God of Shinobi himself.
Her great-uncle was the Second Hokage, another legend.
She was Tsunade Senju, one of the legendary Three Sannin,
the woman who founded Konoha's entire medical ninja system,
the one who had saved countless lives.
Her life should have been glorious.
Radiant. Triumphant.
She had loyal friends, comrades who shared her ideals—
and even once had someone she loved.
By all logic, that should have been a life overflowing with joy.
So why…
why had it all fallen apart?
Tsunade felt like she'd become the tragic heroine of a shinobi soap opera—
like Toyokawa Shoko, but worse.
And so she ran.
She ran faster and faster, as if sheer speed could outrun her sorrow.
But of course, it couldn't.
Not even chakra could defy the law of conservation of despair.
In the end, she simply burned herself out,
collapsed among the roots of an old tree,
and curled up, silently weeping in the dark.
---
Far away, a voice echoed faintly through the forest.
"Tsunade-sama! Tsunade-sama, where are you!?"
It was Shizune—panting, tired, and clutching poor Tonton as she called out again and again.
She'd lost sight of Tsunade halfway through the chase; the older woman's speed was simply too great.
Now she could only stumble through the woods, her small figure illuminated by moonlight.
Normally, Tsunade would have composed herself,
walked out with a grin, and joked,
"No worries! I just found a new way to get rich—
ran off toward the sunset to claim my fortune, that's all!"
Then Shizune would scold her through tears,
"Tsunade-sama! Don't scare me like that!"
And the two of them would walk home together, arguing the whole way.
But this time… it was different.
This time, Tsunade didn't want to be found.
She decided to let Shizune search a little longer—
to let the poor girl panic a bit—
because right now, Tsunade just wanted to be alone.
Even for a woman as brash and fearless as Tsunade,
being seen at her lowest point by her rival's clan was unbearable.
"Just… let me be alone for a while," she muttered under her breath.
Of course, she didn't really want to be alone.
Deep down, she wished someone would come—
someone who would find her, care for her,
and pull her out of this emptiness.
Just like her grandfather once did.
Back when she was a child,
whenever she ran off crying,
Hashirama Senju would always find her within minutes,
making goofy faces until she laughed again.
But that man—the foolish, kindhearted, larger-than-life man—
was long gone.
And not just him.
The entire Senju clan was fading from history,
leaving her alone in a world that no longer had a place for her.
---
Tsunade had been forced to grow up.
To trade innocence for survival.
The world of adults was cruel.
Adults weren't even allowed the luxury of crying.
Even in moments of grief, one had to find a corner,
a hidden place where no one could see.
Because if you cried in public,
no one would comfort you—
they'd just laugh and call you weak.
She could already imagine that smug Uchiha brat laughing at her now.
That insufferable grin.
That voice.
"Ahahahaha! Look at you now, Princess!"
He'd laugh without mercy,
like every other arrogant Uchiha before him.
It made her blood boil.
---
When she was young, her great-uncle Tobirama had taught her only two lessons:
to believe in the Will of Fire—
and to distrust the Uchiha.
That second lesson had stuck.
Even if Hashirama's idealism softened it,
by the time Uchiha Madara rebelled,
Tsunade had come to believe Tobirama's words:
"The Uchiha are born of darkness—
cursed by emotion itself."
And now, decades later,
the Senju were extinct,
the Uchiha still walked the earth,
and one of them had seen her at her absolute worst.
The humiliation was unbearable.
Tears rolled down her cheeks again—hot, bitter, unrestrained.
---
And then—
"Here. A handkerchief."
A voice, calm and gentle, spoke beside her.
Warm—too warm for this cold forest night.
A hand extended toward her, offering a soft white cloth.
"Go on," the voice said. "Wipe your tears."
Tsunade blinked, startled.
"Ah… thank you," she murmured.
Tsunade instinctively accepted the handkerchief, ready to wipe her tears—
but then something felt off.
Her head snapped up.
And there it was—his face.
Uchiha Yujiro.
Handsome, infuriatingly so.
Tsunade hated to admit it, but this boy was probably the most handsome young man she'd ever seen.
Sharp eyes, calm voice, that smug Uchiha composure—it was unfair.
But so what?
She wasn't some blushing schoolgirl like Haruno Sakura.
Even if this brat looked like he'd walked out of a romance novel, she sure as hell wasn't going to fall for him,
or—heaven forbid—have a daughter who'd grow up into some weird, nonconforming, glasses-wearing idol fangirl.
"You little—!"
Her shinobi instincts snapped back in an instant.
She jumped to her feet, stance wide, one hand already tightening into a fist.
"Listen, punk! Don't even think about doing anything funny, or I'll send you flying with a—"
"Relax."
Yujiro cut her off gently, raising one hand in peace.
"I don't mean any harm.
This—" he said, pulling out a few folded documents,
"—is a gesture of goodwill."
"Goodwill?"
Tsunade frowned.
The papers he handed her were all too familiar—contracts.
Loan contracts.
Her loan contracts.
She blinked, startled.
And before she could speak, Yujiro snapped his fingers.
A flicker of flame danced across the parchment, and within moments, every last sheet—every debt totaling tens of millions of ryō—was reduced to ash, curling away in the night wind.
That was his "goodwill."
Tsunade stared at the embers, conflicted.
It wasn't as if she was grateful—
but still, she muttered under her breath:
"So what if you're rich… huh?"
But when Yujiro gestured to the grass beside her and asked quietly,
"May I sit here?"
She didn't say no.
---
Yujiro sat beside her.
He tilted his head up, gazing at the night sky,
his tone calm, thoughtful.
"I never lived through the age of the God of Shinobi," he began softly.
"I only know what the elders of my clan told me—
that in the chaos of the Warring States era,
Senju Hashirama used compassion to reach Uchiha Madara's heart.
That together, the Senju and the Uchiha brought an end to endless war and founded Konoha."
He turned his eyes toward her.
"For you… that must have been the golden age, wasn't it?"
"For most people, it was.
A time of peace."
"Thanks to your grandfather," he continued,
"children could grow up without fear of slaughter.
People could sleep soundly at night.
They had comrades they could trust… and a place they could call home.
That's a beautiful thing, isn't it, Princess of the Senju?"
Tsunade's gaze hardened.
"Beautiful or not, it's gone. That was a long time ago."
Yujiro smiled faintly.
"Was it, though? Just a few decades.
Many who lived in that era are still alive today.
And yet… yes. In our hearts, it feels like a distant dream.
"After Hashirama died, peace crumbled.
The wars came again."
Tsunade said nothing.
Her silence carried a lifetime of grief.
Yujiro leaned forward slightly, his tone turning almost philosophical.
"Tell me, Princess…
if Lord Hashirama had accepted Madara's proposal—
if they had conquered the world together instead of dividing it—
do you think things would have been different?
Would the peace have lasted?"
Tsunade's eyes narrowed.
"What are you trying to say?" she asked sharply, her voice full of suspicion.
Yujiro met her glare without flinching.
Then, with deliberate calm, he extended his hand toward her.
"I'm saying…" he said quietly,
"…that I want you to be my partner."
Tsunade froze.
"I'm going to rebuild the alliance," Yujiro continued.
"The bond between the Senju and the Uchiha.
The one your grandfather once dreamed of."
---