The director's office of the hospital was spacious and bright, equipped with the most advanced medical instruments and comfortable office furniture.
Tsunade, however, treated all of it as if it were invisible. She had one leg crossed over the other, her foot propped up on the expensive solid-wood desk, a bottle of liquor in her hand as she drank by herself.
Shizune stood to the side sorting through documents, her face full of helplessness.
Ever since she had been forced to take up the post, Tsunade had remained in this state of passive slacking.
Aside from handling absolutely necessary emergency cases, she spent all of her time drinking and studying horse-racing reports, as if she wanted to win back the dignity she had lost in the Konoha Entertainment Hall from other kinds of gambling.
There was a knock on the office door.
"Please come in," Shizune called.
The door opened, and a boy walked in.
It was Shinju.
Tsunade glanced at him, said nothing, and took another swig from the bottle.
She knew this boy—he was the owner of that damned casino, her biggest creditor.
Shinju didn't care about her rudeness. He walked up to the desk and placed a folder on it.
"Director Tsunade, this is the hospital's development plan and budget for the next five years. I need your signature," he said.
Tsunade didn't even bother to look at the papers. She let out a cold snort.
"Don't try that crap with me, brat. I'm just here working off my debt. Don't expect me to bust my ass for you. Once I've paid you back, I'm out of this hellhole."
"I know," Shinju replied calmly—so calmly it caught her off guard. "I never planned to move you with the Will of Fire or some sense of responsibility. Those things mean nothing to you."
For the first time, Tsunade put the bottle down and looked at him properly.
"Oh? Then what are you here for? To collect?" she asked.
"No." Shinju shook his head. "I'm here to make another bet with you. I just want to see if you have the guts to take it."
"Bet?"
That single word instantly hooked Tsunade's interest.
She sat up straight, the typical gambler's excitement appearing on her face.
"What do you want to bet on? Money? I don't have any left."
"I'm not betting money," Shinju said, his tone utterly steady. "We'll bet something much bigger. If I win, you let go of the past and work for Konoha with your whole heart—become the true Fifth Hokage. If you win, all your debts are erased, and I'll give you enough money for you to gamble away for the rest of your life. You can leave Konoha forever, and no one will ever bother you again."
Tsunade narrowed her eyes, sizing up the boy in front of her.
This wager was incredibly tempting to her.
"The conditions sound pretty good. But what's the game? What are we betting on?" she asked.
Shinju looked straight at her, his gaze deepening.
"We'll bet on your deepest fear," he said. "We'll bet on the pain you've never been able to let go of your whole life."
"We'll bet… on Nawaki and Dan."
Those two names were Tsunade's taboo. No one dared mention them casually in front of her. Yet this kid had said them out loud.
The excitement and amusement vanished from Tsunade's face without a trace, replaced in an instant by a volcanic rage.
"You little brat! You looking for death?!" she roared.
She shot to her feet and slammed her fist down on the desk in front of her.
Boom!
The desk, made from hard iron-bark wood, was shattered into splinters in an instant under her terrifying strength, reduced to a pile of debris on the floor.
"You're not allowed to say their names! You're insulting the dead!" she bellowed at Shinju, bloodshot veins crawling across her eyes.
Shizune turned pale with fright and rushed forward, grabbing Tsunade's arm, terrified she might actually strike Shinju.
"Tsunade-sama! Please calm down!" she cried.
Shinju, however, remained completely unfazed by Tsunade's fury. His emotions didn't waver in the slightest; he didn't even blink.
"Tsunade-sama, what you're afraid of isn't blood," he said quietly. "What you're really afraid of is losing someone again. You drown yourself in gambling and alcohol because you've convinced yourself you can't save anyone. Am I wrong?"
Every sentence pierced straight into the scars hidden in Tsunade's heart.
"But what if… I let you see them again?" he continued.
"What if I can do something even you—someone at the pinnacle of medical ninjutsu—could never do? What if I can bring the dead back before your eyes?"
Shinju took a step forward, meeting Tsunade's eyes, which were full of pain and fury.
"So, this bet—do you dare to take it?" he asked.
Tsunade froze.
Bringing the dead back to life?
How ridiculous was that? Even her grandfather, the First Hokage, hailed as the God of Shinobi, hadn't been able to do that.
Was this kid mocking her?
Her rage slowly began to give way to a strange, surreal feeling.
Shinju didn't give her much time to think.
He ignored Tsunade's anger and Shizune's terror, simply raising his hand and snapping his fingers.
Snap.
The clear sound echoed in the office.
In the middle of the room, countless soft golden lights appeared in the air, floating into existence. The lights gathered together, gradually sketching out the outlines of two people.
One was a boy with brown hair similar to Tsunade's, his face lit up with a bright, sunny smile.
The other was a black-haired young man with gentle eyes and the refined air of a quiet scholar.
Nawaki.
Dan.
They were semi-transparent, their bodies made of soft golden light, and yet they felt so incredibly real.
All of Tsunade's anger, her façade, her tightly bound pain—at the moment she saw those two figures, everything shattered.
Her body started shaking uncontrollably. Her lips trembled, but no sound came out.
The two figures she could never forget in her entire life just stood there, smiling quietly at her.
Nawaki's phantom moved. His lips shaped silent words:
"…Sis… we're doing fine…"
Dan's shadow also moved. The shape of his mouth was:
"Tsunade… don't suffer anymore…"
At that, Tsunade could no longer hold herself together.
Her knees gave out, and she collapsed to the floor, both hands clamped over her mouth as if trying to choke back the sobs rising in her throat.
But the grief that had been pent up for decades, that soul-tearing agony, burst out like a dam breaking and could no longer be contained.
"Uu… uu… uuu… aaaaah!!!"
She let out a cry she had suppressed for countless years, a howl filled with despair. Tears streamed from her eyes, falling so heavily they soaked the floor beneath her.
Shizune stood off to the side, watching this miraculous scene, tears pouring down her own face as well.
She covered her mouth, hardly daring to believe what she was seeing. Could a human really do this? This was no longer something a normal person could achieve—it was nothing short of a miracle.
Shinju did not go over to comfort her. He simply watched in silence.
The illness in Tsunade's heart needed the strongest possible medicine.
Only by forcing her to confront her deepest wound, and then giving her the most absolute hope, could he drag her completely out of the mire of her past.
After a long, long time, Tsunade's sobs finally began to subside.
She lifted her head. Her tear-streaked face no longer showed anger or rejection. Instead, a complex mix of reverence and desperate longing welled up in her eyes.
She stared at the boy standing calmly in the middle of the golden light.
To her, Shinju had become the only being in this world who could fulfill her greatest wish—the only "god" she could believe in.
(End of Chapter)
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