Poison and medicine are often just differences in dosage and proportion. (Poisons purely composed of chakra are an exception, but perhaps not entirely an exception.)
Whether poison or medicine, ingredient or medicinal material, once they enter the human body, they follow the same underlying logic.
They are absorbed, transformed, and act on specific organs or systems, ultimately producing a specific result.
What the Gourmet talent gave him was precisely a deep insight into what happens when substances enter the human body.
When combined with his medical knowledge, it created a wondrous chemical reaction.
He could not only understand the mechanism of a medicine from a medical perspective but also, like tasting a dish, perceive the flow path of each component within the body, distinguish which organs it affected, and predict where it would spread next.
Like a top chef who, just by smelling and looking, can determine the proportion of each seasoning and the heat of each step in a dish.
To him, Chiyo's carefully formulated composite poison was merely a dish with a slightly more complicated recipe, just like a dark cuisine.
But Shinichi did not say this, because how can an answer obtained too easily elicit overwhelming gratitude and unwavering loyalty?
Casually saying, "I know how to cure it, then preparing the antidote would indeed further display his image as a medical genius.
But that is completely different from the shock and binding effect brought by risking one's life and sharing life and death with comrades.
The former is a capable person, worthy of respect.
The latter is one of their own, worthy of entrusting everything to, including future choices.
What he wanted was recognition rooted in the soul, gratitude forged at the edge of life and death, and the certainty that no matter what choices lay ahead, these people would stand behind him without hesitation.
And through word of mouth from these people, to bind the name Shinichi Higashino firmly with concepts like self-sacrifice, absolute reliability, and someone to whom one can entrust their life.
Therefore, he needed to be poisoned.
He needed to show, in front of everyone, an absolute sense of responsibility and a willingness to sacrifice to save his comrades.
'Look, I dared to stake my own life to save you.'
'I tasted the poison you suffered, endured the pain you bore, and then led you out of despair.'
'From this moment on, your lives are no longer just your own; they are now inseparably connected to me, Shinichi Higashino.'
'So be grateful and remember my actions.'
Shinichi silently said those words in his heart.
'And then, one day in the future, repay me with your trust, your voices, your choices.'
'After all… '
He raised his head and looked toward the gradually brightening sky outside the tent, a faint smile curling at the corner of his lips.
'I used my own life to save you.'
...
A few hours later, Tsunade returned, only to learn some news that nearly drove her crazy: that brat had actually used himself to test the poison on that old woman Chiyo!
Is that kid crazy?
How dare he?
What if something goes wrong?
The more she thought about it, the angrier she became, and the more anxious she got, the faster she walked.
Tsunade stormed into the tent, the curtain being flung high, bringing in a gust of cold wind, her eyes burning with rage.
But when she saw what was inside the tent, she stopped in her tracks.
The boy was standing among rows of hospital beds, slowly making his rounds.
From time to time, he bent down, softly asking a wounded person about their condition, then reached out to feel their forehead and carefully checked the reaction of their pupils.
The wounded, weakly nodding, looked at him with eyes full of gratitude and trust.
He walked slowly and deliberately, observing and recording, the lamplight reflecting on his calm face.
It was as if nothing had happened.
Tsunade stood at the tent entrance, her anger suddenly dissipating for some reason.
She tiptoed and slowly walked up to the boy.
She didn't speak and just watched him quietly.
Shinichi raised his head and met her gaze. His eyes remained calm, offering no explanation or defense, only speaking softly: "Tsunade-sensei, I'm sorry for making you worry."
Tsunade looked at him and remained silent for a few seconds.
"Why?"
"Tsunade-sensei, do you remember that time at the barbecue restaurant a year ago?"
Shinichi spoke softly.
"I've said it before, I'm an orphan, the village raised me, Konoha is my home, and the people in the village are my family."
"I was just protecting my family."
"Just like those predecessors who protected the village and me back then."
"I am simply keeping my promise."
"It's that simple."
Tsunade looked at him, looked into his calm eyes, opened her mouth as if to say something, but found the words stuck in her throat, unable to come out.
What had initially been a bellyful of anger vanished completely at that moment.
Instead, a more complex emotion emerged.
Tsunade looked at the boy, remained silent for a long time, and finally sighed.
That sigh contained helplessness, heartache, pride, and something else that was hard to describe.
"Be more careful next time."
After she finished speaking, she turned and walked away quickly, as if she were running away from something.
Shinichi stood there, watching her figure disappear through the tent entrance, his expression still calm and without a ripple. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
...
That evening at 8 pm, in the Hokage building conference room in Konoha. After the outbreak of war, at 8 pm every day, the Konoha Council would gather to discuss the situation on the front lines.
The third Hokage sat in the main seat, with Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado on both sides.
Danzo Shimura remained seated in the darkest corner, expressionless and silent.
An Anbu member presented the latest frontline report to the third Hokage and the three advisors.
The report clearly documents everything that happened this morning.
The expressions of the third Hokage, Koharu Utatane, and Homura Mitokado were first solemn, then filled with lingering fear, and finally, almost simultaneously, they froze, falling into a kind of daze.
The barrier of time seemed to have been breached, and figures from two different eras, yet possessing strikingly similar cores, overlapped at this moment, separated by the words on the report.
"This child…"
Koharu, who was turning over the page, was the first to break free from this immense trance and shock. She took a deep, extremely slow breath, as if trying to suppress some surging emotions, her expression indescribably complex.
Homura Mitokado slowly leaned back in his chair, took off his glasses, rubbed his sore nose, and fell into a deep silence, lost in thought.
As the third Hokage continued to rub his pipe, his thoughts drifted back to that rainy night four years ago. At that moment, he knew that the child who had once told Kakashi in the cemetery, I'll cover your retreat, had fulfilled his promise.
Four years ago, in the cemetery, he told his companion, who had lost his father, that if they encountered a desperate situation, he would cover his retreat.
Four years later, he told his dying compatriots on the front lines that if sacrifice was necessary, then he would be the one to test the poison.
This child said it, and he did it.