Chapter 2: The Price of Gold and a Master's Shame
Just as Youya was finishing packing his backpack, the sound of "ta-ta-ta-ta" footsteps echoed from the hallway again.
This time, however, the footsteps were much lighter and quicker than Senju Hashirama's heavy tread. They sounded like a child's. Youya ignored them and continued stuffing a final roll of bandages into his bag.
Bang! The door slid open with more force than necessary. "Youya Ni-chan! Bang! Bang! Bang!" A little girl with her hair tied up in two sky-high pigtails stood in the doorway, pointing a chubby finger at him and shouting.
Youya looked at the little girl with an expression of fond exasperation.
"Tsunade, your big brother is packing his things. I'll play with you later, okay? Be a good girl."
This was Senju Tsunade, the future Fifth Hokage. But now… she was just a toddler, barely two years old. She couldn't even speak clearly yet, though she had mastered a few essential words like 'grandpa,' 'grandma,' and 'big brother.' For that, at least, she deserved some praise.
Tsunade stood barefoot at the door, completely ignoring Yuya's words—she likely didn't understand most of them. She stubbornly stretched her arms out toward him, this time without speaking.
Yuya sighed, secured his backpack, and walked over. He scooped the little girl up into his arms. Little Tsunade immediately giggled with delight and reached out to pat his cheeks with her soft hands.
Yuya understood perfectly well what she wanted. With another, deeper sigh, he hoisted Tsunade onto his shoulders, her small hands immediately grabbing fistfuls of his hair. "Giddy-up, Ni-chan!" she commanded.
Obliging, Yuya spent the next while running around the house with a giggling Tsunade on his shoulders, her joyful squeals of "Ni-chan!" filling the air.
In the evening, Tsunade's mother came to collect her, bowing apologetically to Yuya for the interruption. Yuya, thoroughly worn out, just waved a tired hand, lacking the energy to see her out properly.
Later, it was time for dinner. Uzumaki Mito, a woman in her thirties—the most captivating time of a woman's life—knelt gracefully at the low table on the tatami. Yuya knelt opposite her. The meal was simple: three dishes—one meat, one vegetable, and a soup. Uzumaki Mito was not only a great beauty but also an excellent cook.
Yet, despite his beautiful master's wife's presence, a knot of anxiety tightened in Yuya's stomach. He watched her nervously, even kneeling at his spot with a slight tremble. Uzumaki Mito had not yet touched her chopsticks, so Yuya certainly didn't dare to start.
The two of them sat in silence. But unlike Uzumaki Mito, whose back was ramrod straight and posture perfect, Yuya was slouched over, his head dipping lower and lower as he fought off a wave of drowsiness.
"You may eat if you are tired. You should go to bed right after," Uzumaki Mito said softly, her voice calm.
It felt like a royal pardon. Yuya quickly reached for his bowl and began to eat.
Mito Uzumaki closed her eyes, as if completely unaware of the sounds of Yuya eating. She remained a picture of serene, upright composure.
After a suitable amount of time had passed, she spoke again, her voice still soft. "Did Hashirama see you today?"
Yuya's hand froze mid-bite. He glanced guiltily at his master's wife, but she hadn't moved, her eyes still closed.
He swallowed the food in his mouth and answered as respectfully as he could. "What is it you wish to know, Master's Wife?"
Uzumaki Mito simply repeated herself, her tone unchanged. "Did your master come to see you today?"
Beads of sweat began to form on Yuya's forehead. He was torn. Should he lie to protect his master?
After a brief but intense internal struggle, he bowed his head. "I report to you, Master's Wife! Master did come to see me today!"
Mito Uzumaki didn't react, simply continuing, "Good. You did not try to lie to me. That is good."
The cold sweat on Yuya's face intensified. He was already silently mourning for his master's impending fate.
"What did he want from you?" Uzumaki Mito pressed on.
Yuya gritted his teeth and answered crisply, laying it all out. "Master wanted me to use my ability to help him pay off his gambling debts! I righteously refused him! But Master, he threatened and bribed me! He said if I didn't agree, he wouldn't give me any food! And he said if I did agree, he would give me a day off tomorrow so I wouldn't have to go to the Academy and face Uncle Tobirama… I had no choice but to agree!"
Uzumaki Mito finally opened her eyes, fixing Yuya with a calm, penetrating stare. "Is that the truth?"
Yuya slapped a hand over his heart with great force. "Every word is true!"
Uzumaki Mito snorted coldly. "You give in so easily?"
Yuya coughed, putting on his most aggrieved expression. "I need to eat. If I didn't agree, he said he'd withhold my food. I was afraid of going hungry…"
Mito Uzumaki let out an angry, scoffing laugh, then waved a hand in disgust. "Eat. Eat, and then get out of my sight."
"Yes, ma'am!" Yuya chirped, relief flooding through him.
He finished his meal in a few hasty mouthfuls and then slipped out of the dining room. He gathered his night clothes and headed for the bath.
Sitting in the wooden tub, he hummed a cheerful, off-key tune—a song from his past life called "Homecoming"—and played idly with a little yellow rubber duck. For a moment, sitting in the warm water, Yuya looked completely carefree and happy.
The next second, a blood-curdling scream from another part of the house made him jump so violently he almost slipped under the water. The scream was followed by a continuous stream of angry shouts.
Yuya hugged the little yellow duck and shivered. His master's wife was really… something else.
A formidable woman, indeed.
After his bath, he went straight to bed. Lying in the dark, Yuya spent exactly three seconds silently mourning for Senju Hashirama's well-being before sleep claimed him.
…
The next day, Youya headed to a basin area west of the village. His ability allowed him to draw gold directly from the earth. Of course, it had its limits; if the gold was too deep, he couldn't reach it. Currently, his range was about one kilometer underground. As his strength grew, this distance would increase significantly, though reaching the mantle was basically impossible.
After focusing his senses and pulling the gold from the earth, Youya unsealed a storage scroll. He bit his thumb until it bled and swiped it across the parchment. With a puff of smoke, over two hundred kilograms of raw gold was sealed safely inside.
The quantity is still too small, he thought with a frown. It would be great if I could find a real vein.
Even a small vein would contain dozens of tons. A large one could hold thousands of tons. With that much gold, so many of their problems would simply vanish.
It was no wonder Senju Hashirama had once lamented to him, "If I'd had you back then, I wouldn't have had to sell those tailed beasts."
Konoha was founded over a decade ago. While they had reached a cooperation agreement with the Land of Fire, the financial assistance from the Daimyo wasn't nearly enough to build Konoha into a prosperous, self-sufficient village. Furthermore, funding a shinobi force was essentially a bottomless pit.
A ninja with no money, like Might Dai, had to train his body to its absolute limit to become strong. It was a path of immense, grueling effort.
The situation was entirely different for a rich ninja. They could pay for the best Chunin or even Jonin to provide personal training—a service that was, of course, considered a paid mission. There was never a shortage of shinobi willing to take such lucrative work. Having a teacher was a world apart from struggling to learn on your own.
Not to mention, ninjas needed tools, weapons, explosive tags, and scrolls—all of which cost a small fortune. It was easy to see why Tenten's family business was so successful; every ninja was a potential customer.
If Yuya had been born fifteen years earlier, Senju Hashirama wouldn't have needed to sell the tailed beasts to secure Konoha's start-up funds.
The original Five Kage Summit had essentially been a business negotiation. Hashirama had argued that the tailed beasts were too dangerous and needed to be sealed and distributed for stability, and that was true to an extent. But that reason was also a convenient excuse, a respectable facade.
If they were truly that dangerous, wouldn't it have been simpler for the "God of Shinobi" to just kill them? Sealing them and then selling them to other villages… that was just putting a respectable archway over a simple transaction.
But the archway was necessary. It allowed him to sell the tailed beasts legitimately. The wealthy Land of Lightning had even tried to buy them all. Hashirama, playing the role of a fair dealer, had said they could only buy two at most. So the Land of Lightning immediately bought the most powerful Eight-Tails in the first round and scooped up the Two-Tails in the second.
As for the One-Tail… There was a story there. The First Kazekage at the time had declared, "We don't need to buy these things. The One-Tail, Shukaku, is in our Land of Wind. We will capture it ourselves. Just don't get in our way." His words sounded proud and rude, but if you thought about it, the truth was simple.
The Land of Wind was poor. The Kazekage couldn't afford a tailed beast.
If he'd had the money, wouldn't he have been just like the Land of Lightning, clamoring to buy one? A tailed beast was the ultimate nuclear deterrent. If you angered a village that possessed one, they could just send the beast to wreak havoc on your home. It was a threat no village could afford to ignore.
So, when you looked at it clearly, the original Five Kage Summit wasn't some high-minded diplomatic meeting. It was a spoils-sharing conference. Senju Hashirama provided the goods, the other villages provided the money, and the First Kazekage… well, he had no money.