Despite the scars the war had left on the adults of Konoha, the children at the Ninja Academy remained blissfully untouched. Their laughter echoed through the sunlit streets, unburdened and bright, like birds chirping after a storm. Protected beneath the unseen wings of their village, they played, ran, and dreamed, unaware of how fragile that peace truly was.
In these days of respite, Itoshiki Furukawa did not rush to master the new ninjutsu scroll gifted by the Hokage. Instead, he allowed himself something far rarer in the life of a shinobi—stillness.
Chakra was the balance of body and spirit, and while the crucible of battle could forge strength in hardship, true refinement came only through peace. His mind, once taut with survival instinct, now loosened like a drawn bow returned to rest.
After several quiet days, Itoshiki made a decision. He would visit Tsunade.
Part of him sought her guidance. But another part—quieter, harder to define—wanted something else. A bond. A closeness. Perhaps even clarity on what exactly she meant to him now.
Though already among the stronger of Konoha's jōnin, Itoshiki knew his current abilities had limits. He could not yet stand against two or more enemy jōnin at once—not without tactics or surprise. His greatest achievements during the war, including his skirmish with Hanzo, were the product of sudden strikes and clever use of battlefield knowledge. But as his reputation grew, so too would his enemies' awareness of him. The element of surprise would fade. And the next time, he might not walk away unscathed.
His boots clicked softly against the cobbled streets of Konoha as he made his way toward the Senju clan estate. The village buzzed with life—merchants peddling goods, shinobi returning from missions, families reuniting—but his steps were calm, measured.
Unlike the Uchiha, who had been relocated to the village's outskirts, the Senju clan remained nestled in the heart of Konoha. Though many had been integrated into civilian life under the reforms of the Second Hokage, and others had risen to nobility in the Fire Country's capital, the Senju still held a sacred presence here. The legacy of Hashirama Senju, the First Hokage, and Uzumaki Mito, as well as the living legend of Tsunade, kept their name revered.
Crossing the boundary from the village's bustling commercial district into the Senju compound felt like stepping into another world. The air was quieter here, cleaner. The buildings older, yet dignified. Wide courtyards and manicured gardens stretched in every direction—a world of order and history.
A strange feeling stirred in Itoshiki's chest. Though he had lived in this world for some time, moments like this—simple, beautiful, surreal—still reminded him of how foreign it once was. How extraordinary it still sometimes felt.
He steadied his breath, then approached the gate.
The guards recognized him immediately. The newly named Mad Lion of Konoha needed no introduction. Without delay, one was dispatched to inform Lady Tsunade, while the other led him respectfully through the winding walkways of the clan estate.
Eventually, they arrived at a wide courtyard awash in soft light. The trees were full, the grass manicured, and the wind carried the scent of fresh earth and blooming sakura. Under one of those cherry blossoms stood a figure as striking as the scenery around her.
Tsunade.
She wore a light green kimono, her golden hair flowing freely over her shoulders, catching sunlight like strands of spun gold. Her posture was relaxed, yet regal—powerful, but gentle. The kind of presence one couldn't help but be drawn to. As the breeze stirred the blossoms above her, it seemed the petals swirled in rhythm with her breath.
Itoshiki took a step forward and bowed slightly. "Lady Tsunade."
She turned slowly, eyes meeting his with a familiar warmth, and a smile formed at the corners of her lips.
"You came, Ishiki-kun."
He stepped closer, trying not to let the way the sunlight framed her distract him. Her presence always had a way of anchoring and unmooring him at once.
"Forgive the unannounced visit," he said softly. "I didn't wish to intrude."
Tsunade's gaze drifted over him, as if assessing not just his body, but his spirit.
"You seem different," she said. "More grounded. I can see it in your eyes—you're no longer standing on the battlefield. You've stepped off it. For now."
He gave a humble nod. "That's thanks to your guidance, Lady Tsunade."
She chuckled lightly and shook her head. "Your progress is yours alone. You made the choice to survive—and to grow."
Then her tone shifted slightly, tinged with quiet concern. "Have you faced any trouble since returning?"
Itoshiki hesitated only for a moment. "Some. But nothing I couldn't manage."
Tsunade nodded, but her eyes lingered on him a second longer, as if she sensed what he didn't say aloud.
"Good," she finally said, her voice gentle. "But even the strongest lions need rest after war."
He looked at her, and for a heartbeat, neither spoke. The wind moved again, carrying pink petals through the air between them like whispers of an unspoken truth.
Itoshiki spoke with a light tone, casually brushing aside the matter—he didn't want Tsunade to carry his burdens.
Tsunade's eyes narrowed slightly, a subtle furrow forming between her brows. She didn't press the issue.She understood his nature—stoic, composed, carrying more than he ever admitted. A man like that wouldn't bend easily, no matter how heavy the weight.
"Itoshiki," she said after a moment, "What brings you here today?"
He turned toward her, his expression steady."Lady Tsunade… I've come to seek your guidance regarding the Strength of a Hundred Sealings."
"Oh?"A flicker of interest danced in her amber eyes.
"From what I've seen, your control over the technique is already quite advanced. Are you facing difficulties?"
Itoshiki gave a small nod. "I've hit a wall. My chakra control has reached a certain level, but… it feels like something's missing. No matter how much I refine it, the seal won't progress any further."
He spoke plainly, laying out the problems he'd encountered in training—the subtle disruptions in chakra resonance, the stagnation in conversion rate, the dissonance between physical stillness and spiritual activity.
Tsunade listened attentively, her arms folded, her expression growing thoughtful with every word. She nodded occasionally, processing the intricacies of his insight.
"That kind of bottleneck is common," she said finally, her voice gentle yet firm, the kind that carried weight through experience."But what you're facing isn't just a chakra issue—it's a body issue."
Itoshiki blinked, slightly caught off guard.
"The Strength of a Hundred Sealings isn't simply about maintaining chakra in a fixed loop. It's about the fusion of chakra with the living body. True mastery comes when the seal becomes part of you—not something external that you control, but something internal that moves with your will."
She took a step forward and pressed her fingers lightly against his chest—just above the heart.
"Close your eyes," she said softly. "Feel it—not just the chakra. Feel what lies beneath it."
Itoshiki obeyed. He drew in a breath and tuned in.The warmth of her touch was subtle, but behind it was the unmistakable pulse of life—his chakra moving in carefully trained cycles, but disconnected from his physical self. Static.
"Do you feel it?" she murmured. "The chakra moves, but your body doesn't respond. You're treating the two like separate entities. That's your limit."
Her voice flowed into his thoughts like a quiet current."Think of chakra as water. The body is its vessel. If the vessel is rigid, the water spills. If it's adaptive, the water flows freely. Your body needs to move with your chakra—not resist it."
He remained still for a long moment, then slowly opened his eyes.His gaze had shifted—sharper, more focused, as if something once elusive had come into view.
"…I understand," he said quietly. "I've been forcing control, rather than allowing resonance."
A rare smile touched Tsunade's lips. "Good. Understanding the mistake is the first step toward correcting it."
Then, with a sudden smirk and a wink, she added, "Of course, if you get stuck again, don't hesitate to come crying to me. You're my top soldier now, after all."
Itoshiki chuckled faintly, a rare softness in his voice. "Then I'll trouble you often, Lady Tsunade."
But Tsunade's tone shifted again, becoming solemn.
"There are no shortcuts here. The Strength of a Hundred Sealings is a legacy passed down not just through scrolls, but through time—through will. Every improvement will come from your own hands, your own pain, your own insight."
She looked at him, her gaze no longer that of a mentor, but of someone who believed in him without reservation.
"With your discipline and resolve, I've no doubt you'll surpass even me someday."
Itoshiki lowered his head respectfully. "Thank you… for everything."
They stood in silence beneath the cherry tree, its blossoms caught in a quiet breeze.Petals danced around them like soft, pink snow, momentary fragments of stillness in a world forever preparing for war.
In that brief, delicate pause, neither student nor master needed to say anything more.
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