Chapter 57 — Nawaki's World Collapses
Out of nowhere, Senju Nawaki popped out from the direction of a nearby training ground, still carrying his ninja tool pouch.
His clothes were dusty from practice, hair slightly disheveled—but none of that compared to the look on his face.
His eyes were wide.
His mouth hung open wide enough to fit an egg.
One trembling finger pointed straight at the two figures walking nearly shoulder to shoulder.
His expression screamed one thing:
The sky has fallen.
His gaze repeatedly swept over Namikaze Yami, confusion written all over his face.
The height.
The presence.
The faintly familiar facial outline…
But—
Something was off.
---
"Nawaki. Just finished training?"
Yami's voice, tinged with helpless amusement, broke the awkward silence.
That familiar voice and form of address made Nawaki jolt.
He stared harder, finally confirming that the man standing before him—taller than him by more than a full head—really was the same "Big Bro Yami" he knew.
"Y–Yami? Big Bro Yami?! It's really you?! When did you… get this tall?!"
He craned his neck upward, even lifting his arm as if trying to measure the height difference.
His voice cracked mid-sentence.
Before he could process the shock—
Smack.
A solid, loving slap landed on the back of his head, sending him stumbling forward.
"You little brat! What nonsense are you spouting? Feeling itchy for another beating?"
Tsunade withdrew her hand, glaring at him.
There was a faint blush on her face, though her tone carried very real embarrassment and irritation.
Nawaki shrank instinctively.
Looking at his sister's ferocious expression—and then at Yami's utterly innocent "save yourself" look—
He instantly concluded:
I must've overthought it. Training scrambled my brain.
He waved his hands frantically.
"Misunderstanding! Total misunderstanding! Hahaha! There's no way Big Bro Yami would go on a date with an old la—uh…"
He swallowed the rest of that word.
"I was just passing by!"
As he spoke, he shot Yami a knowing look that clearly meant:
I get it. I understand. Big Bro, you're really unlucky to run into my sister like this.
Yami watched Nawaki perform mental gymnastics in real time and had to suppress a laugh.
Keeping a straight face, he smoothly extended an invitation.
"Since we've run into each other, how about dinner together? I know a new place that just opened. It's pretty good."
Nawaki's eyes lit up instantly.
He was just about to agree—
When he felt a "kind and loving" gaze from his dear older sister burning into his side.
In that moment, Nawaki felt like he was standing at a crossroads in life.
Choose wisely.
Or perish.
His survival instincts exploded into overdrive.
He shook his head so hard it was almost comical.
"N-No, no! I just finished training—I'm covered in sweat. And… and—Grandma! Right! Grandma was looking for me. Yeah! She needed me for something. I won't interrupt you two. I'll get going!"
Before he even finished speaking, it was as if some terrifying beast were chasing him from behind.
Whoosh.
He shot off like an arrow, disappearing around the street corner within a few breaths.
The speed alone made Yami silently marvel.
He might have the potential to become the next 'God of Shinobi Speed' at this rate.
Watching Nawaki flee in utter panic, Tsunade clicked her tongue in annoyance.
The slightly delicate, just-barely-forming atmosphere between them had been completely shattered by that blockheaded little brother.
Mood ruined.
Yami, however, merely smiled, unconcerned.
He naturally stepped closer again, falling back into stride beside Tsunade.
"Shall we go, Tsunade-sama? I know a place where the grilled beef tongue is exceptional. If we're late, it might be sold out."
There was a hint of teasing in his tone, but it deftly redirected attention back to dinner, dissolving the earlier awkwardness.
Tsunade shot him a sideways glare.
Seeing his perfectly calm expression—like nothing significant had happened—her lingering embarrassment gradually faded.
She was never one to fuss over small matters anyway.
"Lead the way."
---
The two of them walked side by side into the commercial district, now glowing under rows of lantern light.
Yami guided her with practiced ease to a lively izakaya filled with warm chatter and the scent of charcoal smoke.
He pulled out a chair for her.
Took the menu.
Ordered smoothly.
Without hesitation, he listed several of Tsunade's favorite dishes—down to her drinking habits. He ordered sake, but also thoughtfully added tea to help sober up afterward.
The entire process flowed naturally, as though rehearsed countless times—attentive without being obsequious.
Tsunade couldn't help but tease him.
"You're just a brat. If someone didn't know better, they'd think you frequent places like this all the time."
Yami only smiled in response.
To someone who had lived two lifetimes, this was merely basic technique.
---
The charcoal flared.
Slices of meat sizzled on the grill, slowly browning, releasing a mouth-watering aroma.
Yami flipped them skillfully, placing the perfectly cooked slices onto Tsunade's plate first—until they stacked into a small mountain.
He himself was in no rush.
Occasionally raising his cup to clink lightly with hers, most of the time he simply smiled and shared carefully "artistically edited" stories of his time in Kirigakure.
Even softened through his narration, Tsunade—an elite shinobi—could clearly sense how perilous those missions must have been.
At the same time, Yami asked about her work in the medical division, about Nawaki's training progress, even offering thoughtful suggestions at just the right moments.
Throughout the evening, Tsunade realized something.
Talking with him felt… comfortable.
He always caught her conversational threads effortlessly, yet never pried too deeply. Every exchange lingered just enough, then gently receded.
Under the influence of alcohol, his figure across the table gradually blurred.
For a fleeting moment, she no longer felt as though she was sitting opposite a younger boy.
Instead—
It felt like sitting across from a dependable companion.
---
Dinner ended in a subtle yet harmonious atmosphere.
Night had deepened.
The two walked along the gradually quieting streets of Konoha.
Yami escorted Tsunade to the vicinity of the Senju estate, stopping beneath a lamplit street corner near the gate.
"That's far enough," Tsunade said.
Rarely for her, she wasn't drunk tonight.
"Alright."
Yami nodded, his gaze clear as he looked at her.
"Today… I was really happy."
The words were simple.
But sincere.
Tsunade gave a slight nod. After exchanging quiet goodnights, Yami turned and left, his posture composed and respectful.
---
Back inside the now-quiet estate, the stillness settled heavily around her.
Lying on her bed, Tsunade replayed the day's events.
The ease of their dinner conversation.
Nawaki's dramatic, sky-falling expression.
Yami's composure and quiet dominance in the Hokage's office—far beyond what one would expect from someone his age.
The images overlapped and intertwined.
And then—
Her grandmother's knowing smile.
The soft whisper in her ear.
It echoed once more in her mind.
"Don't overthink it. Follow your heart. Don't let yourself miss something you'll regret."
At the time, she had only felt embarrassed.
But now—
After tonight—
Those words seemed to carry a strange kind of magic, sending ripples across the calm surface of her heart.
Ripples that refused to settle.