The view returned to Tsunade inside the yakiniku restaurant.
The place was a mess. The other customers had already quietly slipped away, and even the owner was hiding behind the counter, not daring to make a sound.
Tsunade sat alone, staring blankly at the table full of empty bottles and the cooling charcoal fire.
The cold wind that rushed in when Shinichi left had long since disappeared, leaving only deeper silence and the lingering smell of alcohol in the air.
The confrontation moments ago—especially the boy's final, resounding words—hit her like a boulder dropped into the lake of her heart, violently stirring up the muddy memories she had buried deep inside.
For a fleeting moment, she felt as if she had gone back to her childhood, playing under her grandfather's broad, warm hand, listening to her second grandfather's strict but caring warnings…
Back then, being Hokage was the highest honor of the family. Protecting others was a natural duty. Konoha was the warmest home under the sun.
Her little brother Nawaki had smiled brightly and shouted, "I want to become an amazing Hokage like Grandfather and Great-Uncle!" Dan had spoken gently yet firmly about his dream of protecting his comrades…
Those beliefs and faces that had once supported and defined her were now blurred and painful, eroded by years of alcohol and accumulated grief.
Just as she was sinking deeper into the whirlpool of memories, almost suffocating under the heavy weight, a small voice filled with worry and a hint of anger sounded from the doorway.
"Lady Tsunade!"
Tsunade turned her head slowly. At the entrance stood Shizune, wrapped in a thick scarf, her small face flushed red from the cold wind. She was biting her lip, looking both angry and helpless as she stared at her.
That boy… after he left, he went to find Shizune?
The hazy thought drifted through Tsunade's muddled mind.
"Honestly! Going out alone and drinking this much again!" Shizune hurried over, expertly checking the number of empty bottles on the table, her brows furrowing even tighter.
Even as she complained, her movements were practiced and gentle as she supported Tsunade's swaying arm. "You're covered in the smell of alcohol and made such a mess… Let's go home."
Leaning on the girl's slender but surprisingly steady shoulder, Tsunade didn't resist.
As she felt the small but determined strength holding her up, and heard the genuine concern hidden beneath the scolding, a sudden warm current quietly rose in Tsunade's chest, easing some of the frozen pain and despair.
She said nothing, allowing Shizune to half-support, half-drag her through the snow-covered streets, their footsteps uneven in the fresh powder.
Shizune continued muttering beside her—things like "not taking care of your body," "losing your temper again," "making people worry"—the words buzzing in her ear.
Strangely, the scolding that would usually irritate her even more now only made that warmth feel clearer.
The icy night wind blowing against her face actually helped clear some of the fog in her mind.
After walking for who knows how long, the familiar gate of their home finally appeared.
"We're here." Shizune let out a breath, fumbled for the key with effort, and helped Tsunade inside the warm house.
Just like this… we're home.
Tsunade leaned against the porch, watching Shizune busily light the lamps, boil hot water, and move around the room with her small figure under the warm light.
Outside was the cold winter night. Inside was the soft yellow glow of the lamps and the faint sounds of daily life.
The traces of their argument hadn't completely faded, and the worries hadn't disappeared, but this space called "home," and the girl in front of her—who was still sulking but still carefully taking care of her—truly existed.
Looking at the small girl who was clearly still angry yet meticulously tending to her, Tsunade suddenly let out a long, silent breath, releasing years of pent-up gloom.
Tsunade had thought that in the short term, she probably wouldn't have the chance—or the desire—to see that black-haired boy with his sharp words and resolute eyes again.
He was like a mirror that was too bright, reflecting the mess she didn't want to face.
However, just a few days later, on a snowy afternoon, urgent knocking shattered the quiet of the small courtyard.
Outside the door stood an Anbu operative wearing an animal mask, posture straight and aura deep.
Tsunade recognized him—one of the elite directly under the Third Hokage.
There was no greeting, no extra courtesy. The moment Tsunade opened the door, the Anbu delivered the message in the simplest, fastest way possible:
Shinichi Higashino had suffered a serious accident during training. His injuries were extremely difficult to handle. After a consultation, the medical-nin team at Konoha Hospital was at a loss. The situation was critical.
The Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, had personally ordered him to come and urgently request Lady Tsunade's immediate presence at the hospital.
An injury from training?
What kind of injury could be so severe that the entire hospital team couldn't handle it—and even required the old man to send an Anbu directly to fetch her?
Tsunade's brows furrowed tightly. After a brief hesitation, she followed the Anbu out into the wind and snow, hurrying toward Konoha Hospital.
Their footprints were quickly covered by fresh snow, leaving only a trail of rapidly fading marks behind them.
...
Time rewound to that same morning.
Training Ground 4 was covered in thick snow. The sky was gray, and fine snowflakes swirled in the north wind, casting an icy silence over the entire field.
In the center of the grounds, Shinichi Higashino breathed lightly, holding a steadily spinning azure chakra sphere in his palm—the Rasengan.
Standing at the edge of the field, the massive, towering Ape Demon King stood with his arms crossed like a rock statue in the snow. His golden eyes watched Shinichi's movements with full focus.
"Ha!"
Shinichi let out a low shout. The Rasengan in his hand suddenly gave off a deep hum. Its size visibly expanded, and at the same time, a fierce crimson color, like thick ink dropped into clear water, rapidly spread from the core of the sphere!
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The originally attribute-less, violently spinning chakra vortex instantly transformed into a blazing storm filled with explosive Fire-nature chakra!
The crimson Rasengan pulsed in Shinichi's palm. Inside, it felt like compressed lava. The high temperature instantly evaporated the falling snowflakes into white mist, producing a constant hiss and creating a distorted, steaming heat zone in the middle of the snowstorm.
The Ape Demon King stared intently at the steadily burning crimson sphere. After several seconds, he finally nodded slowly and spoke in his deep, metallic voice:
"The injection of chakra nature transformation is stable. The shape is perfectly maintained… Kid, you did it."
"Have you thought of a name for this technique yet?"
Sweat beaded on Shinichi's forehead, but his eyes remained calm.
"I plan to call it—Fire Release: Great Flame Rasengan."
The name was simple and direct, clearly indicating its Fire Release nature and origin from the Rasengan, while carrying a fierce, blazing momentum.
"Not bad," the Ape Demon King evaluated, then his gaze grew more serious. "Then, the final and most important step: release it safely. Test its true power and controllability. Remember! Creating and stabilizing it is only the beginning. Being able to wield it is what makes it truly your technique."