Chương 146: Some Return, Only to Depart

Tsunade harbored no illusions regarding the true purpose of her sudden return. The moment the meal concluded, she whisked Kushina away into the privacy of the master bedroom for an exhaustive diagnostic. When the two women finally emerged, Jiraiya stepped forward, his tone heavy with anticipation.

"Well, Tsunade? How fares Kushina?"

"Her physical vessel is profoundly depleted," Tsunade reported, crossing her arms.

"Six months of absolute convalescence will stabilize her vitality. For now, the immediate crisis has passed. As for the long-term horizon... that remains a variable."

"What?" Jiraiya's brow furrowed.

"I knew a Jinchuriki's condition defied simple remedies. Is there no definitive solution within your medical repertoire?"

"Regrettably, no," Tsunade sighed, casting a sharp look toward the corner of the room.

"I lack the means to alter it, nor is my intervention required. Am I correct, brat?" Zhen offered a calm, measured nod.

"Rest assured, Lady Tsunade. I shall oversee the final adjustments to the matrix." Jiraiya blinked, thoroughly perplexed.

"What does Zhen have to do with this?"

"The script pinning the Nine-Tails within Kushina is no longer the standard Four Symbols Seal," Tsunade explained, her amber eyes narrowing as she studied the boy.

"It is an entirely foreign configuration, one whose underlying geometry eludes even my scrutiny." She paused, a glint of genuine appreciation surfacing.

"Formidable work, kid. To engineer such a marvel... what did you call this technique?"

"The Ryugi Seal," Zhen replied evenly.

"Right, the Ryugi Seal. By recalibrating the equilibrium between human flesh and spiritual essence, it rewrites the fundamental law that decrees a Jinchuriki must perish upon extraction. Formidable." Tsunade's tone turned gravitas-laden.

"但 tell me, brat, do you comprehend the geopolitical ripples this formula will trigger? It isn't merely an anchor for a vessel; it holds the utility to stabilize any warrior hovering on the precipice of mortality."

"I am aware," Zhen murmured. The Sannin's assessment was flawless. On the battlefield, casualties rarely mounted from a lack of medical solutions, but rather from the tyranny of the clock; souls frequently slipped away before a medic could deploy their craft. The Ryugi Seal acted as a metaphysical stasis lock, deferring the embrace of the Shinigami and artificially extending that golden window of triage. In their line of work, a single minute was a vast chasm separating life from the grave.

"Good. Should the rival hidden villages catch wind of this asset, you will find yourself hunted like a prize beast. Safeguard your life, brat; don't go throwing it away needlessly."

"Have no fear, Lady Tsunade. Severing my thread is an exceedingly difficult proposition." Tsunade paused, the truth of his statement settling in. According to Jiraiya's briefing, the boy possessed natural flight capabilities, and had now augmented that arsenal with her granduncle Tobirama's legendary Flying Thunder God technique. Barring an act of catastrophic idiocy, executing him was near impossible. He was nothing like those reckless fools of her past...

Ghostly silhouettes of her lost brother and lover flickered across her mind, sharp and agonizing. Suppressing the sudden surge of melancholy, she exhaled slowly.

"Now, Minato. Step forward and let me look at you." The ostensibly incapacitated Fourth Hokage shifted uncomfortably.

"There is no need, Lady Tsunade. I am managing well enough." While his custom chakra-suppression arrays could effortlessly deceive the standard medical division, they would disintegrate under the scrutiny of the world's premier medic. A single inspection would shatter his facade. Of course, his very evasion was an indictment in itself. Tsunade read the room instantly, a wry smile playing on her lips.

"Oh? I see the high seat changes a man. Your mind has grown significantly more labyrinthine, Minato." Jiraiya, having long outgrown the dense simplicity of his youth, leaned forward.

"What are you hinting at? Is Minato unharmed?"

"Substantially," Tsunade drawled.

"Then why the sudden abdication?" Tsunade cast a patronizing glance at her dense teammate.

"Why? You would do well to pose that question to our venerable master. Furthermore, surely you haven't forgotten the exact nature of Danzo and those other two old ghouls, Jiraiya?" Jiraiya felt a fierce urge to confront Hiruzen, yet he recognized the futility of the gesture; it would merely compound Minato's administrative friction. He let out a weary sigh.

"I only pray Sensei awakens to reality soon. Good heavens, why can't old men simply content themselves with tending their gardens?"

"Hmph. I never understood the allure of that wretched hat," Tsunade scoffed.

"To cling to power when a graceful exit presents itself... the old man will end up dying at that desk." The sitting Fourth Hokage remained pointedly silent. Desperate to derail the dangerous political discourse, Jiraiya cleared his throat.

"Minato, fill me in. What exactly transpired beneath the canopy that night?" Minato provided a concise summary, taking care to underscore a critical deduction.

"I am certain the interloper does not hail from our domestic Uchiha. Jiraiya-sensei, as you traverse the elemental nations, simply keep a vigilant eye out for anomalies. Should your paths cross, avoid a direct confrontation at all costs. His mastery over space-time manipulation is uniquely perilous."

"Understood. Ah, the Uchiha..." Jiraiya muttered, his thoughts drifting to the local clan.

"Fugaku will find his office buried in administrative grief." Descended from the Senju lineage, Tsunade harbored neither affection nor active malice toward their ancestral rivals, remaining blissfully indifferent to their plight. Both Sannin accepted Minato's assessment without reservation: the phantom was categorically not the historic Madara Uchiha.

For his part, Minato omitted the detail regarding the assailant's Wood Style capabilities, nor did he breathe a word concerning Obito's true identity or the dual nature of the Jinchuriki containment. Since Jiraiya and Tsunade had successfully decoupled themselves from Konoha's political vortex, drawing them back into the mire would only compound the complexity. With the state briefing concluded, Tsunade executed a long, theatrical stretch.

"Well, the bureaucracy is settled. Now, it's time to resolve a private vendetta." Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Jiraiya blinked.

"Tsunade, you've barely set foot in the village. Since when do you have personal enemies here?" Tsunade pointed a menacing finger at Zhen, who was currently attempting to dissolve into the background.

"Brat, step forward. To harbor such voyeuristic audacity at your tender age... you possess a remarkably reckless spine."

"I protest," Zhen countered smoothly.

"My gaze was fixed entirely on the rubber balls."

"Do you take me for a fool?"

"Lord Jiraiya was participating as well."

"I've grown weary of breaking his bones," Tsunade countered, a dangerous glint in her amber eyes.

"I find myself craving fresh sport." Zhen remained silent. A woman entering her fourth decade truly speaks with the predatory hunger of a wolf. Within the designated training field, Zhen adopted a defensive posture, while Jiraiya observed from a safe distance with relaxed indifference. The explosive medic possessed a notorious temper, but her violent outbursts were precisely calculated; no permanent damage would manifest.

"I am told your aptitude for medical ninjutsu is quite exceptional, brat," Tsunade noted, sizing him up.

"Adequate, Lady Tsunade. I owe my foundations entirely to my mother's tutelage."

"And who might she be?"

"Megumi Dongye. Before her marriage, she was simply known as Megumi." Megumi's induction into the medical arts had coincided with Tsunade's aggressive expansion of Konoha's healthcare infrastructure; virtually every medic of that generation had passed through her lecture halls. Tsunade scrutinized the boy's features, cross-referencing them against her extensive mental registry.

"Ah... that quiet girl. To think her child has grown to this scale. She has honed you well, which offers me a measure of reassurance." The words had scarcely left her lips when her heel splintered the earth, carving a crater into the bedrock as she materialized before Zhen like a gale-force wind. Her fist tore through the air. Desperate to expedite the conclusion of this maternal hazing, Zhen refrained from retaliation.

Instead, he wove a localized chakra shield to absorb the kinetic energy, content to serve as a compliant punching bag. A rhythmic cascade of explosive impacts reverberated across the clearing. After a brutal volley, Tsunade recoiled, thoroughly dissatisfied.

"Brat, drop that miserable turtle shell! Are you truly going to deny me the satisfaction of a proper thrashing?" Assessing the exact caliber of the impacts he had absorbed, Zhen confirmed his suspicions regarding her tempered strength and nodded.

"Very well, Lady Tsunade. Proceed."

"Splendid. Provide me with an adequate release, and I shall consider your voyeuristic transgression settled. Otherwise, I shall report this incident directly to Megumi. Given your refined aesthetics, you undoubtedly command a court of infatuated young maidens; it would be a pity if they discovered their idol was a deviant."

"With all due respect, Lady Tsunade," Zhen countered, his tone perfectly flat, "does a man of my aesthetic caliber genuinely require the desperation of a deviant?" Standing at the perimeter, Jiraiya's brow twitched. So you're implying I'm the ugly one.

"An amusing child," Tsunade smirked, bridging the distance with an identical straight right. Zhen crossed his forearms to intercept the blow, the momentum throwing him backward across the clearing, his soles carving parallel trenches into the soil. As suspected, her output was heavily dialed back; had she unleashed the full catastrophic potential of her Chakra Enhanced Strength, he would have been violently ejected from the sector.

"Is that the extent of your wrath, Lady Tsunade? It feels as though you skipped breakfast." His loose tongue earned him an immediate, tempestuous counteroffensive. Defending against the onslaught, Zhen immersed his sensory web into the mechanics of her style. The legendary Sannin's destructive power was no simple manifestation of dense musculature; it was a sophisticated discipline of microscopic chakra compression and instantaneous explosive release—a masterclass in structural control.

Gradually, the punching bag began to alter its rhythm. Mimicking her internal pathways and recalibrating on the fly, Zhen transitioned from passive evasion to testing the waters with counter-strikes. Moments later, as Tsunade drove a clinical straight punch forward, Zhen mirrored the vector perfectly with his own. The clashing kinetic reservoirs detonated. A thunderous roar shattered the air, a massive crater yawning open beneath their feet as a labyrinth of fractures rippled outward like a titan's web.

The two figures vaulted from the smoking depression, landing gracefully beside Jiraiya.

"Remarkable retention, brat," Tsunade noted, her eyes gleaming with genuine approval.

"I now find the claim that you engineered the Ryugi Seal entirely credible."

"I am indebted to your instruction, Lady Tsunade."

"Heh. Do not credit me with your own cognitive genius." Jiraiya stared at them, suddenly feeling profoundly inadequate.

"Is it truly that simple?"

"Hardly," Zhen clarified.

"My internal synchronization remains unrefined; it will require a dedicated window of practice to smooth out the explosive compression before I can claim true mastery."

"Forget it," Jiraiya grumbled.

"Teach me that chakra shield instead. At least it will mitigate the agony of my domestic life."

"An elementary concept," Zhen explained.

"First, you must force your chakra to assume a rigid geometric profile—a buckler or a sphere. Next, you integrate stabilization arrays borrowed from sealing scripts to lock the matrix in place. Finally, depending on the vector of incoming kinetic threat, you saturate the shell with specific elemental transformations..." Jiraiya clawed at his silver mane, his expression blank.

"Never mind. I am told you finalized the evolution of Minato's Rasengan. Let me see it." Zhen extended his palm, seamlessly condensing a swirling mass into the Wind Style: Rasenshuriken.

"This is the Rasengan synthesized with the localized cutting properties of the Wind nature. Minato-senpai likely detailed the theoretical framework to you."

"He did," Jiraiya muttered, staring at the microscopic tempest howling in the boy's palm.

"But executing it is a different beast entirely. My command over wind conversion requires significant fortification. Furthermore... that technique radiates an incredibly lethal frequency." Tsunade instinctively took a step back.

"Fool. Anchoring a concentrated vortex of that density against your bare skin is an act of cellular self-mutilation. Disperse it at once." Existing within the absolute equilibrium of Constant Sage Mode, Zhen suffered no biological degradation from the technique, yet he complied without protest, letting the storm dissolve into the air. Jiraiya let out a frustrated groan.

"Why must everything be an existential mountain? This is far beyond my immediate horizon."

"Because you are a brute," Tsunade mocked.

"To grasp such heights, you must first cultivate a microscopic control over your energy that mirrors this brat's baseline capability." Was Jiraiya a dullard? Did he lack tactical genius? Hardly. His intellect operated on a different frequency—he was a kinetic learner who required a slow, structural breakdown to synthesize concepts into his own visceral style. The hyper-calculated, genius methodologies deployed by Minato and Zhen were fundamentally incompatible with his architecture.

"Well, the theoretical blueprint is mine; I shall untangle it in due course," Jiraiya said, offering a sheepish grin.

"My apologies, Zhen. Everything within my arsenal has already been mastered by Minato, leaving me with little to impart to you." He paused, casting a conspiratorial glance around before whispering, "However, I am currently drafting a literary series specifically engineered for the discerning adult gentleman. Once it clears publication, I shall ensure a signed first-edition set finds its way to your desk."

"My profound gratitude, Lord Jiraiya." While Zhen harbored no personal appetite for erotic pulp fiction, the material would serve as excellent bait to compromise Kakashi's stoic composure down the line.

"Well, if our business here is concluded, I shall take my leave," Tsunade announced, spinning on her heel with effortless grace.

"Take care of yourself, brat. Do not perish foolishly."

"Allow me to accompany you!" Jiraiya scampered after her like an infatuated hound, grumbling as he matched her stride.

"Good grief, I had fully intended to pay my respects to Sensei, but the schedule has been utterly derailed." Zhen watched their silhouettes dissolve into the treeline. He knew full well they had never intended to visit Hiruzen Sarutobi. There were currents in the village they refused to navigate; this abrupt departure was their silent declaration to their former master—a quiet alignment behind the Fourth Hokage.