As a ninja deeply involved in research, Hiruko understood the implications at once.
Cells like those derived from White Zetsu, if they could be widely applied in medical treatment, had to meet two conditions: safety and controllability. Anything unstable would never be approved for human use.
And if they were safe and controllable, that also meant they were being deliberately limited.
Hiruko did not believe such extraordinary cells were capable of only this much.
"There has to be more to them," he muttered.
The problem was obvious.
"How am I supposed to get White Zetsu cells from Tsunade?"
They were friends—once. But Hiruko knew Tsunade well enough to understand that she would never hand over such research willingly. Taking them by force was impossible, which left him with only indirect methods.
For a fleeting moment, a familiar name crossed his mind.
Orochimaru.
The thought disgusted him almost instantly.
His original goal had always been to prove that he was not inferior to them. Seeking Orochimaru's help would be no different from admitting defeat.
Absolutely unacceptable.
"Hirakawa Qingshui," Hiruko said softly. "That must be the key."
If Tsunade would not give up the cells directly, then approaching the one who used them might work.
But that path was hardly safe.
Two years earlier, the battle with Satori had shaken all of Konoha. A team of elite jōnin led by Hiruzen Sarutobi himself had been rendered helpless—yet Hirakawa Qingshui had resolved the situation.
Rumors exaggerated things, certainly.
But Hiruko was not foolish enough to underestimate them entirely.
After growing up alongside the Three Legendary Sannin, he understood genius better than most. What ordinary people deemed impossible was often effortless for monsters like them.
Jealousy flickered across his face.
Why did the world favor others so shamelessly?
"The Sannin… Hirakawa Qingshui… and now even that brat Kakashi Hatake."
Kakashi's rise still grated on him.
Graduating at five. Becoming a genin immediately. Advancing to chūnin at six.
It was unheard of.
The entire village praised him as the heir to the White Fang.
Hiruko clenched his fists, then slowly exhaled.
Complaining would not change reality.
What mattered was planning.
Danzo had reached the same conclusion he had: acting inside Konoha was too dangerous. Once exposed, defection would be inevitable.
Hiruko was not ready for that.
"A medical ninja stronger than me…" he muttered bitterly. "What kind of joke is that?"
Then a realization struck.
"The jōnin promotion exams are coming."
Hirakawa Qingshui would certainly participate.
Outside the village.
That was his chance.
"I'll prepare in advance," Hiruko decided. "If I'm to face him, I won't do it alone."
—
Completely unaware of the dangers gathering around him, Aomizu had just finished dinner with Tsunade.
As expected, the kitchen looked exactly as it had before the meal—untouched.
With a resigned smile, Aomizu stood up. "You should go take a bath first."
Instead of agreeing, Tsunade raised an eyebrow and smiled mischievously.
"Oh? Don't you want to bathe together?" she teased. "I could even scrub your back."
Aomizu paused, then smiled back. "Sure. Let's go together."
For once, Tsunade was the one caught off guard.
"…You're serious?"
She had expected him to retreat.
Instead, he stepped forward.
Flustered, Tsunade broke free and darted into the bathroom, locking the door behind her with a sharp click.
Only after confirming her safety did she regain her composure.
"Nice try," she called smugly. "You can wait outside."
Aomizu only smiled.
After finishing the dishes, he heard Tsunade shout from the bathroom.
"You little trickster! You did this on purpose!"
"Did what?" he replied innocently.
"I don't have any clean clothes!"
Aomizu walked over calmly. "Didn't I prepare something for you already?"
Inside, Tsunade stared at the neatly folded outfit, equal parts annoyed and helpless.
She had been careless.
Her own clothes were unusable, and she knew better than to expect Aomizu to bring alternatives.
With a resigned sigh, she changed.
When Tsunade stepped out, Aomizu froze for a moment.
The outfit was simple, modern, and unfamiliar—far from what she usually wore.
"…These clothes are uncomfortable," Tsunade said, tugging at the fabric with visible irritation.
Aomizu did not respond immediately.
His gaze lingered, then softened.
"Hey," Tsunade snapped. "What kind of look is that?"
For reasons she couldn't explain, she suddenly felt uncharacteristically self-conscious.
She folded her arms, instinctively guarding herself.
Aomizu chuckled and looked away. "Relax. I just didn't expect you to actually wear it."
"…You've been planning this for months, haven't you?"
"Maybe."
Despite her words, Tsunade did not step back.
Instead, she met his eyes.
There was no regret there.
Only trust.
And something quietly unspoken, lingering between them.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)