Arriving at a bustling street lined with restaurants and izakayas in Tanzaku Town, the four of them casually found a cozy spot to sit and chat while enjoying a meal. The atmosphere buzzed with the sounds of clinking dishes, laughter, and soft chatter from nearby tables. Despite the relaxed setting, Akira remained focused, his mind working overtime.
Once again, he bombarded Minato with questions about the Flying Thunder God Technique. It wasn't just curiosity—Akira had quietly activated his Yin Release: Illusion Body, enhancing his sensory abilities as he scanned the area for any overwhelming chakra signatures.
His instincts told him Tsunade might be nearby. However, Tanzaku Town was vast, and its restaurant street even more so. The chances of running into her purely by coincidence were slim. Luckily, since awakening his unique Yin Release ability, Akira had acquired a subtle yet powerful form of sensory perception, allowing him to detect chakra even amidst the cluttered energy of the crowd.
While engaging in seemingly casual conversation with Minato, he was constantly analyzing the surrounding chakra flows. His focus narrowed particularly to the small bars and izakayas—if Jiraiya's intel was accurate, Tsunade was most likely to be found drinking in one of these places.
As they discussed the hurdles of mastering the Flying Thunder God Technique, Akira absorbed every bit of Minato's insight, all while filtering through countless faint chakra signatures in the area. Most belonged to civilians or untrained individuals, barely registering on his radar. But he was searching for a beacon—something massive, something unmistakable.
He couldn't rule out the possibility that Tsunade might be concealing her chakra. However, in reality, she hadn't gone to such lengths. Few sensory ninja released their abilities freely, and Tsunade was more concerned about avoiding the debt collectors on her tail than shinobi tracking her. She had no way of knowing someone with such keen sensory talent was already searching.
Then it happened. Just as they were finishing their meal, Akira's expression changed. A soft gasp escaped his lips. He felt it—an overwhelming chakra, potent and deep, not something any ordinary person could possess.
Minato noticed instantly. "Akira, did something catch your attention?"
Akira nodded, his eyes slightly narrowed. "Minato-sensei, while we were talking, I was using my sensory ability to look for Tsunade-sama. I just picked up an incredibly powerful chakra nearby. It's unlike anything I've sensed so far—far beyond the normal range. I think... it might be her."
Kakashi's eyes widened in surprise. "You can use sensory ninjutsu? That's new. I knew you were talented, but this..."
Though they had trained together for months, Kakashi was still constantly surprised by the depth of Akira's skills. A strange unease stirred in him—how could someone their age know so much?
Minato, too, was silently pondering. The Sharingan didn't typically grant sensory perception. Seeing their confusion, Akira offered an explanation he had already prepared.
"Actually, I didn't learn traditional sensory ninjutsu. This ability appeared after I awakened my Three-Tomoe Sharingan. Some rare bloodlines within the Uchiha clan awaken unique traits. I just happened to be born with a heightened sensitivity to chakra."
He wasn't lying—within the Uchiha clan, gifted individuals sometimes manifested abilities even before awakening the Mangekyō Sharingan. Obito had once unconsciously used Kamui to avoid certain death, after all.
Minato nodded thoughtfully. Kakashi, however, couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. He, the prodigy once hailed as Konoha's greatest, was beginning to feel like just another ninja beside someone like Akira.
Akira, meanwhile, shivered subtly under Kakashi's gaze. It was intense, as if Kakashi were drilling holes through his eyes.
"Is Kakashi seriously that obsessed with the Sharingan?" Akira mused internally. "At this rate, he's going to go down Orochimaru's path just to get one."
"Since you've sensed something strong nearby, let's check it out," Minato said calmly, standing. "Be careful. There's a chance it isn't Tsunade-sama—it could be something dangerous."
Guided by Akira's senses, the group made their way through the winding street and stopped in front of a dimly lit izakaya. The chakra coming from inside was immense—far greater than anything Akira, Kakashi, or even Minato possessed.
His heart beat faster. He was nearly certain—it had to be Tsunade.
They entered the izakaya, eyes scanning the dim interior. Patrons were scattered around, chatting over drinks and food. Yet none of them matched Tsunade's usual appearance. Akira's eyes narrowed.
Tsunade was hiding.
He understood immediately—she had used a transformation technique to change her appearance. Likely to evade debt collectors, she wouldn't risk being recognized. But chakra couldn't lie. In this close range, her overwhelming presence was impossible to miss.
He followed his senses to an old woman, probably in her seventies, with gray hair and a slouched figure. No signature assets, no youthful features, nothing of the Tsunade they expected. But Akira was sure.
No elderly woman possessed chakra like this. And there she was—drinking heavily, alone, looking more miserable than most.
Akira stepped forward, confident. "You must be Tsunade-sama. We've been looking for you for a long time, and we've finally found you."
Tsunade, though seemingly lost in her cups, had already noticed the Konoha headbands when they walked in. Her senses weren't dulled enough to miss something like that.
But she hadn't expected anyone to call her real name outright. Startled, she nearly choked on her drink.
"Who did you say? Tsunade? You've got the wrong person, kid. I'm not her," she said, her voice low and gravelly.
She hadn't seen Akira's headband, which he wore around his arm instead of his forehead. Assuming he was one of her debt collectors in disguise, she tensed up, heart pounding.
But Akira wasn't fooled by appearances. He smiled faintly, his voice steady and warm. "Tsunade-sama, your disguise is flawless... but chakra doesn't lie. We're not here for debts—we're here because Konoha needs you."
Tsunade stared at him, her drunken haze beginning to lift just enough to process what was happening. The glint in Akira's Sharingan, the calm assurance in his voice, the respectful tone—this wasn't some random thug. These were Konoha shinobi.
And they had found her.
After such a jolt of tension, Tsunade felt the haze of alcohol dissipate from her mind like mist under the morning sun. Her fogged thoughts cleared in an instant, and a surge of instinct gripped her—she turned on her heel, intending to flee.
Akira caught her movement immediately. He could tell with one glance: Tsunade had clearly mistaken him for some debt collector. Her eyes hadn't yet registered who he really was.
"I'm not here to collect debts," he said quickly, stepping in front of her. His voice was calm but urgent. "I'm a shinobi from Konoha. Sent by the Third Hokage himself. We've come to find you, Lady Tsunade."
The words struck her like a bell. She halted mid-step, slowly turning back. Her eyes, hazy but focused, fell on the forehead protector wrapped around Akira's arm—the unmistakable symbol of the Hidden Leaf.
Behind him, the sound of hurried footsteps signaled the arrival of Minato and Kakashi. Tsunade blinked a few times, hard, as if clearing a dream from her eyes. And there they were—Minato Namikaze, shining like the rising sun, and young Shizune, the niece of the man Tsunade had once loved.
The awkwardness of the moment clung to her like a second skin. Realizing the absurdity of trying to run from them, she tried to play it off with an uneasy grin.
"Minato? What brings you here? And Shizune... Have you graduated from the Academy yet?"
Shizune blinked. "I... I graduated three years ago, Lady Tsunade. I'm a Chunin now."
Of course Tsunade knew that—she was simply too embarrassed to admit she'd been caught off guard, and it was the only thing she could think to say.
Minato's expression softened, but his voice remained solemn. He bowed his head deeply.
"Lady Tsunade. We've searched far and wide for you. The war is going badly. Konoha is suffering. The Third Hokage needs your strength. Konoha needs you."
Her heart clenched. She knew about the Sunagakure poison. She'd kept an ear to the ground, even if she claimed otherwise. But what could she do now? The sight of blood, even the memory of it, left her paralyzed. She wasn't a medic anymore. She wasn't even a ninja.
"Enough of that talk," she said lightly, waving them off. "We haven't seen each other in years. Sit down. Let's drink."
She returned to the low table, uncorked a fresh bottle, and poured herself a glass with practiced grace. Then she looked toward Shizune.
"Come, Shizune. One drink, for old times' sake."
Shizune looked like she'd been struck. She hesitated, then shook her head sharply.
"Now isn't the time for drinking, Lady Tsunade. Konoha needs you. You have to pull yourself together. And besides... I'm twelve."
Tsunade blinked, laughed softly, and poured another round regardless. Her hands were steady, but her eyes were distant, already glazing over.
Akira, Minato, and Kakashi exchanged glances. She wasn't hearing them—wasn't really present at all. She was already slipping back under the alcohol's haze.
Minato sighed. "We won't get anywhere like this. We'll let her rest, and try again tomorrow."
So they did. They booked two rooms at the nearest inn. Shizune stayed with Tsunade, watching over her like a dutiful shadow. Akira, Minato, and Kakashi took the other room.
Later that night, Kakashi asked quietly, "Sensei... does she not want to go back to Konoha?"
Minato hesitated, then shared what he knew. Nawaki, Tsunade's younger brother, had died young—cut down in the chaos of the Second Shinobi World War. That loss shattered her. In her grief, Tsunade had proposed that every squad be assigned a medical ninja. But the village leaders—short-sighted, inflexible—rejected the idea.
Only one man had supported her: Dan Kato. Her lover. He too died in the war, bleeding out before her eyes. She'd tried to save him, but even her hands—miraculous as they were—couldn't piece him back together.
Perhaps it wasn't just grief. Perhaps she blamed the village itself. The leadership. Even the Hokage.
Akira already knew this. But he also knew the deeper truth: Dan hadn't simply died—he'd died horribly. His body had been ripped open, organs exposed. That sight had shattered Tsunade's resolve. Since then, she couldn't so much as look at blood without breaking into a cold sweat.
It wasn't just sorrow that drove her away. It was trauma. Deep, soul-wrenching trauma.
Minato's hope now rested on Shizune. He prayed Tsunade would look at the girl—Dan's niece—and remember the fire she once had.
Akira, though, had another plan in mind. The events of this life had already shifted thanks to his presence. The poison crisis that would have devastated Konoha had already been blunted. Now, what Konoha lacked most wasn't medicine—it was capable hands.
He needed Tsunade not just to save the village, but to become his teacher. If he could learn her techniques, he could ease her burden and give her a reason to believe again.
But for that to happen, she needed to be shaken.
The next morning, Tsunade stumbled out of bed, groaning, rubbing her temples as the lingering hangover pulsed through her skull. Her eyes narrowed the moment she saw Minato, Akira, and Kakashi at her door again.
Persistent little brats.
Still, she knew what they'd come for. Minato didn't waste time.
"Lady Tsunade, the poison from Sunagakure continues to claim lives. Our medics can't keep up. Only you can help us. Only you can save them."
Then he pulled out a scroll.
"This is a personal letter from the Third Hokage. He begs you to return."
Tsunade's eyes snapped to the name. Her lip twitched.
Akira, standing behind Minato, watched with careful attention. This was it—the trigger.
He could already see the fire flickering in her. Resentment. Anger. Pain long buried, now rising again.
If she erupted—if she let the past boil to the surface—then maybe, just maybe, she'd begin to see that she wasn't alone anymore.
And maybe, just maybe, she'd start to believe that she still had something to give.
Akira's plan was about to begin.