It took everything Muzan had to squeeze his way out of the crowd. The moment he turned around, another wave of overexcited patients surged toward him, and he barely managed to dash into the Director's Office before he was mobbed to pieces by his own "fans."
"You got here just in time,"
said Director Hara, glancing toward the noise outside. Rather than scolding Muzan for barging in, he set down the documents in his hand, his expression suddenly serious.
"What I'm about to say might disappoint you a little, so prepare yourself."
Muzan stayed silent.
After Muzan's record-breaking graduation, word had spread through the hospital like wildfire. He was not only the son of Sakumo Hatake, but also a recognized prodigy—one who had achieved perfect chakra control, mastered medical ninjutsu, and even outperformed trained genin. Hara and the Third Hokage had quickly reached the same conclusion: this boy should become the disciple of Lady Tsunade.
To that end, Hara had even helped circulate rumors around the hospital—stories pairing Tsunade's name with Muzan's, as if the mentorship were already decided.
Reality, however, proved far less convenient.
Tsunade had flatly refused to take any disciples.
Muzan blinked. For a moment, he thought Haruno's "bad news" was something serious. In truth, it wasn't surprising at all—anyone could see he and Tsunade shared similar paths in the beginning, though Muzan's ambitions had long since drifted closer to Orochimaru's.
"Ah, I see. That's fine," he said lightly. "I never intended to become her student anyway."
Hara froze. That was not the reaction he expected.
"What kind of tone is that, you brat?! That's Lady Tsunade you're talking about! Show some respect!"
After his halfhearted scolding, Hara sighed and revealed his true purpose.
Now that Muzan had officially graduated, he no longer belonged to the Ninja Academy. That meant Nobibei, the academy instructor, couldn't fight over him anymore.
"The Hokage wants you to remain here at the hospital for advanced medical-nin training," Hara explained.
"These are medical ninjutsu scrolls I requested from the Medical Corps. Study them when you can. I'll personally guide your practice."
Despite his mild personality, Director Hara was no ordinary physician.
He had been a special jōnin during the war, his medical expertise saving more lives than most combat units combined.
To make sure Muzan took him seriously, he set two scrolls down on the desk with a proud grin.
"See these? Both are A-rank techniques. Without my connections, you'd never get your hands on them."
Muzan glanced at the scrolls:
Mystical Palm Technique.
Regenerative Healing Technique
Both were advanced evolutions of standard medical healing arts.
Unlike most A-rank jutsu, they carried no backlash on the user—precisely why Tsunade had once been unrivaled in the field.
If not for Tsunade's refusal, and the Third's reluctance to waste such talent, Muzan would have already become her apprentice. For now, they planned to keep him in the Medical Corps until more of his peers graduated, forming a balanced genin team later.
"Thank you," Muzan said, glancing at the scrolls. "But I'd rather use the hospital's laboratory."
"I knew you'd love those A-rank—wait, what did you just say? The lab?"
Hara stared blankly. How had this conversation derailed so quickly?
These were A-rank techniques! Why was the kid more interested in a dusty lab than elite ninjutsu?
"If you really want access," Hara relented, rubbing his temples, "I can authorize it. But be careful—there's a retired expert who practically lives down there. Try not to offend her."
"A retired expert? Don't worry," Muzan said calmly. "I'm only there to research. I won't disturb anyone."
Hara didn't know who the "expert" was referring to, but Muzan's composed and respectful nature reassured him. Surely, nothing could go wrong.
---
Laboratory
The laboratory hadn't been used in years—not since the end of the Second Great Ninja War.
Dust blanketed the shelves and benches in thick layers.
Muzan used a Wind Style jutsu to sweep it away.
"Clink, clink, clink!"
Glassware rattled dangerously, but the breeze was low enough to avoid breaking anything.
"Pfft—who the hell let the wind into the lab?!"
A woman's voice echoed from the floor, followed by the sound of shuffling and the slosh of liquid.
A blonde woman sat up, clutching a sake bottle, her eyes bleary with drink.
No one could have imagined that Konoha's most sterile medical lab would also house a drunken gambler.
Muzan froze. His eyes narrowed as recognition dawned.
The lettering on her robe—"Gamble"—said it all.
Lady Tsunade, one of the Legendary Sannin, and Konoha's most notorious "slug princess" of alcohol, gambling, and short temper.
"So it really is Lady Tsunade," he murmured.
"Huh? You sound familiar…"
Still half-drunk, Tsunade leaned in close, her ample chest pressing right against the boy's face as she squinted at him.
From her height, she looked him over critically, tugging open his cloak for a better look—then realization struck.
"Ah, the Hatake kid, huh? You came to find me? Too bad, I'm not taking students."
Muzan brushed her hand aside politely, suppressing a sigh.
"You misunderstand," he said evenly.
"I didn't come here for you—and I didn't know the lab's caretaker was you. I'm here to run experiments. So please, don't interfere."
Tsunade blinked.
"This brat just brushed me off?"
No one ignored Tsunade, one of the strongest kunoichi in the world.
"Fine," she muttered, her curiosity piqued.
"Let's see what you're up to, kid."
She followed him around the lab, waiting for him to slip up—sure he was trying to play some clever psychological game.
"Trying to act disinterested to get my attention, huh?" she thought, smirking. "Smart move… or so you think."
But minutes passed. Then hours.
And Muzan never once looked her way.
He was wholly absorbed in his work—mixing, measuring, recording data with absolute concentration.
For the first time, Tsunade felt… uneasy.
"Could it be my reputation's fading?" she mumbled, frowning. "Or am I getting old? Kids his age should be dreaming of becoming Hokage—or chasing cute girls, not ignoring me completely."
Her interest deepened—not as a woman offended, but as a scientist.
She set the bottle down and watched quietly.
The boy's focus, his meticulous control, his calm detachment…
She had seen that kind of obsession only once before.
In Orochimaru.
"Compared to me," she muttered, "Orochimaru would suit him better as a teacher. The old man really picked the wrong one this time."
She remembered that Orochimaru had no disciple of his own.
And Muzan—being Sakumo Hatake's son—certainly wouldn't tarnish Orochimaru's reputation by association.
If she could convince Orochimaru to take the boy in, it might work out perfectly.
At this point in history, Orochimaru's research was still tolerated by the village.
He was already the most brilliant of the Sannin, the mastermind behind countless wartime victories, and the strongest candidate to succeed the Hokage after Hiruzen.
Tsunade took another long drink, grinning to herself.
"Heh… I'm a genius. That brat'll thank me one day."
Little did she know—
Muzan was about to walk the line between Tsunade's medical genius and Orochimaru's forbidden science.
Forever changing the fate of both paths.