Time passed.
By the next evening, inside a bustling gambling den in the Land of Birds—
"Big! Big! Big!"
"Small! Small! Small!"
"Open—three ones, triple match—eh?! This guest wins alone! Thirty-six times payout!"
The dealer froze.
Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as he stared at the mountain of chips across the table… and at the blonde woman who had just bet on triple ones.
A "fat sheep," they said?
Who spread that absurd rumor?
This woman had been winning the entire afternoon. Dice, cards—even the tiny pachinko machine in the corner. She hadn't lost once.
Fortunately, she wasn't betting everything in one go.
Otherwise, this place would've gone bankrupt already.
"Y-Your thirty-six thousand ryō, honored guest…"
The dealer pushed a thick stack of notes forward with trembling hands.
"Lady Tsunade! You won again!"
Shizune beamed, scooping up the money excitedly.
In all her years following Tsunade into casinos, this was the first time they'd ever walked out ahead.
And not just ahead.
Nearly ten million ryō in a single afternoon.
"Shizune. We're leaving."
There was no joy in Tsunade's voice.
Only a heavy, brooding tone.
"…Eh?"
Shizune blinked, stunned, as Tsunade rose abruptly and walked away from the table. By the time she reacted, she was already pushing through the crowd toward the exit.
The dealer exhaled deeply in relief.
The "fat sheep" had finally left.
If she'd stayed any longer, someone higher up might have decided his life was worth less than the losses.
Outside the gambling house, Tsunade and Shizune entered a tavern.
Once food and sake were served, Tsunade began drinking in silence—cup after cup.
Her expression darkened with each swallow.
Shizune sensed something was wrong.
She had only been with Tsunade for a few years and didn't understand.
Whenever Tsunade lost money, she was spirited, even defiant—vowing to win it all back.
But today?
She had won.
And she looked like someone attending a funeral.
Shizune didn't know—
Tsunade winning was rarely a blessing.
In the past, every major win had been followed by tragedy.
Her grandparents' deaths.
Her parents' deaths.
Her little brother's death.
Her lover's death.
Tsunade had grown afraid of victory.
Winning meant loss was coming.
Her mood sank deeper.
She drowned it in alcohol.
Shizune didn't dare interrupt.
When empty bottles crowded the table and Tsunade's vision began to blur—
Two men dressed as retainers entered the tavern.
They scanned the room once.
Then their eyes lit up.
They approached directly.
"Your Highness."
They bowed.
Tsunade's hazy gaze sharpened instantly.
"…Fire Country?"
Her instincts were already screaming that something bad was coming.
She had assumed it would involve Konoha.
Instead—
The Daimyō's people arrived first.
"Yes, Your Highness. The Lord has sent you a letter."
One of them produced a scroll from his robes and offered it respectfully.
Tsunade snatched it with irritation.
"Why not just say what you want? Why the theatrics…"
She didn't notice the subtle retreat of the messenger after handing it over.
She opened the scroll.
Her expression changed within seconds.
A thick vein pulsed at her temple.
"Marriage alliance?!"
BOOM!
She slammed her palm onto the wooden table, shattering it instantly. Bottles crashed to the floor.
Her eyes blazed as she glared at the two envoys.
"What are those old fools thinking?! They dare push me into political marriage? Should I send them to the Pure Land ahead of schedule?!"
The killing intent rolling off her was almost tangible.
Tsunade had left Konoha partly because she despised the political rot at its core.
Her own teacher had been part of it.
So she chose to walk away.
Yet even in exile—
Politics still found her.
"Marriage alliance."
A pleasant word.
A rotten reality.
Just another transaction.
"Your Highness… please read the entire scroll before deciding," one envoy stammered, sweat pouring down his face.
The Daimyō had anticipated this reaction.
They had been instructed what to say.
Tsunade exhaled sharply and continued reading.
Her face turned iron-cold.
The scroll crumpled slightly in her grip.
The latter half revealed the true reason.
At the founding of Konoha, the Senju clan had made a promise to the Fire Daimyō.
When Konoha became the Land of Fire's primary military force—replacing traditional defensive institutions—the Senju had conceded numerous benefits in negotiation.
Among them—
A vow personally spoken by the God of Shinobi, Hashirama Senju.
The Senju would grant the Daimyō's lineage one request.
Unconditionally.
So long as it did not betray Konoha's interests.
The weight of Hashirama's word was unquestionable.
But as the Senju clan declined…
The promise faded into obscurity.
Now—
With only Tsunade remaining—
The Daimyō had remembered.
Her jaw tightened.
"Did you bring it?"
"Yes."
Another ornate scroll was produced—its exterior decorated elaborately.
Tsunade accepted it.
Her heart sank.
The seal on the scroll bore the distinctive curse markings unique to the Senju clan.
Authentic.
Undeniable.
She muttered quietly—
"…This is troublesome."
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