“Natsume, get up and drink your medicine.”

  Tsunade pushed the door open a crack and peeked inside, only to find Natsume fast asleep.

  This kid was just too good-looking for his own good.

  “Big Sis, could you please step outside?”Natsume mumbled, clearly flustered.

  He wasn’t used to changing clothes with someone watching.

  “Eh?”

  Tsunade blinked, then caught on to his expression. She chuckled teasingly. “What’s there to be shy about?”

  Ugh, shameless woman!

  Natsume stared her down with a look that said I’m not getting out of bed until you leave.

  Combined with his baby-faced innocence, it was ridiculously cute—almost lethal.

  Tsunade swallowed instinctively, quickly closed the door, and said, “Fine, just come out when you're dressed.”

  She turned and slipped on an apron, heading into the kitchen to make breakfast.

  Shizune was there too, tending to the medicine.

  Even in a world where chakra could do just about anything, medicine still had its pce.

  As medical-nin, brewing decoctions was part of the job.

  This one was a tonic, custom-made to strengthen Natsume’s body.

  He grew up in an orphanage, after all—meals were basic at best, and nutrition was a luxury.

  “Natsume,”

  Shizune knocked on the bathroom door, holding a steaming bowl.

  “Coming,”

  Natsume set down his toothbrush, opened the door, and downed the medicine in one gulp.

  Warm. Comforting.

  Yeah, right.

  His face scrunched up into a bitter grimace.

  “Here, have a lollipop.”

  Tsunade unwrapped one and shoved it into his mouth like a pro.

  Sure, she drank, gambled, and had a nasty temper—but she was actually a great “foster mom.”

  It had only been three days, and her true colors were already showing.

  Buying medicine? Always ended in gambling.

  Dinner? Never without alcohol.

  She was a total addict—booze and bets, a dual-css menace.

  Natsume could only thank his lucky stars that she was insanely strong.

  If not, he might’ve been sold for parts by now.

  Not long after, breakfast was ready.

  Rice balls, simple but filling.

  Natsume, as usual, gave himself a pep talk before biting into one. Two bites, chew, swallow—like a robot.

  Across from him, Shizune mirrored his actions almost perfectly.

  Only Tsunade ate with gusto, eyes sparkling as she stared at Natsume, her pretty face breaking into an even deeper smile.

  People liked beautiful things. Tsunade was no exception.

  To her, Natsume was practically her aesthetic ideal. Just looking at him lifted her spirits.

  After breakfast, Tsunade pulled out two bck mourning cloaks.

  “Natsume, Shizune, put these on. We’re going to a funeral today.”

  Natsume took his and threw it on without question.

  Instantly, he looked like part of a professional team.

  The Konoha Memorial Monument.

  By the time they arrived, the pce was packed.

  Everyone wore bck. The atmosphere was somber and heavy.

  It was Natsume’s first time seeing so many canon characters all in one pce.

  Any ninja not on a mission had shown up.

  He scanned the crowd, only recognizing a few that stood out.

  Like Hatake Kakashi.

  That white hair and ever-present mask made him impossible to miss.

  But he looked... hollow.

  Like all the life had been drained out of him—like a ghost left behind by the world.

  And Natsume could understand why.

  After losing both teammates—Obito and Rin—Kakashi had now lost his teacher, Minato Namikaze.

  And with his father dying in his childhood, the guy was pretty much a walking tragedy.

  Until he met Naruto, Kakashi had been completely adrift.

  No one was in the mood for small talk at a funeral.

  Natsume stood quietly beside Tsunade, occasionally gncing around.

  Before long, Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, stepped up to give a speech.

  His voice was heavy, each word deliberate.

  “The Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze, and the brave shinobi and civilians who gave their lives… they died to protect Konoha’s peace, to uphold the Will of Fire. They paid with their lives to stop the invaders.”

  “Among them were elderly in their sixties and children barely seven or eight years old. Their sacrifice is a loss to the vilge, and those of us who survived must remember them always—and carry on their will.”

  “I promise you, every fallen hero will be honored and compensated. Their families will be cared for.”

  It wasn’t the right time or pce, but Natsume nearly burst out ughing.

  During the Nine-Tails attack, the real heroes were Minato and Kushina.

  And their son—Naruto—should’ve been celebrated like a hero too.

  Instead, because of his status as the jinchūriki, he was ostracized and treated like a monster.

  The irony was painful.

  All these people gathered here today, protected by Minato and Kushina—yet in a few short years, they’d call Naruto a demon and subject him to cold indifference.

  Minato... is this really what you gave your life to protect?

  “Natsume.”

  Tsunade handed him a white flower. “Come with me to offer it.”

  “Mm.”

  Natsume nodded.

  To be honest, it didn’t move him much.

  These people were strangers to him, after all.

  Once the offering was done, they went home.

  He had more important things to focus on.

  Like mastering Wood Release: Clone Technique—and getting in touch with Orochimaru.

  Because he didn’t know exactly when Orochimaru would defect.

  Missing that window could spell serious trouble.

  Orochimaru was a crucial part of his long-term pn.

  Half a month passed.

  Natsume and Tsunade grew even closer.

  Their bond had become a mix of motherly warmth and older-sister affection.

  And under Tsunade’s careful guidance, Natsume finally mastered the Wood Release: Clone Technique.

  Sure, it drained his chakra so much he could barely stand afterward—but it was progress.

  For his age, it was nothing short of genius.

  At the same time, Hiruzen sent an enrollment letter from the Ninja Academy.

  Tsunade agreed—though only halfway.

  In her opinion, six years was overkill. Two or three would be enough before graduating early.

  That night.

  “This jutsu is still too much for your current level.”

  Tsunade dabbed the sweat from Natsume’s brow with a tissue.

  The Clone Technique was just an E-rank jutsu.

  After learning it, he’d tried moving on to D-rank Wood Release jutsus.

  But it was clearly too much of a stretch.

  Natsume looked up—and found Tsunade’s face surprisingly close.

  She smelled faintly of something floral, her breath brushing against his cheeks.

  He turned his head quickly—and immediately caught sight of a snowy white abyss.

  The sensory overload hit like a Genjutsu.

  “Alright, that’s enough training for tonight. Go take a bath and get some rest.”

  Tsunade ruffled his hair. “You’re only seven. No need to rush your training. Push too hard, and you’ll hurt yourself.”

  Natsume nodded obediently.

  Yeah... training at this age was rough.

  So maybe you could tone down the fanservice a little, Sis?

  So much “welfare,” and all he could do was sigh and suffer.

  After his bath, he y in bed.

  Waited thirty minutes.

  Then got up.

  Wood Release: Clone Technique!

  Vines sprouted from his shoulders and head, quickly forming into two wooden clones in front of him.

  Wood Release: Transformation!

  The clones were instantly wrapped in twisting branches, their figures stretching and changing into two twenty-something-year-old men.

  “You guys know the pn—try to win Orochimaru over.”

  Natsume wasn’t about to go himself.

  That’d just be suicide.

  Thankfully, he had Wood Release. Ordinary clone and transformation jutsus couldn’t pull off this kind of stunt.

  “Got it.”

  The clones left the room.

  Before long, they reached Orochimaru’s compound.

  “I’ll go first,” the left clone said. “Knowing Orochimaru, I’ll probably get offed.”

  “No worries. I’ve got your back.”

  The right one gave a thumbs up. “Time for the big leagues. Watch me work.”

  “Good luck, Other Me.”

  With a deep breath, the left clone walked boldly into the ir.