The four of them left the Konoha morial together.
By the ti they reached the main street, Jiraiya and Orochimaru had already devolved into bickering, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. Hanekawa noted with amusent that their dynamic was remarkably similar to Kakashi and Obito's—two geniuses who couldn't resist needling each other at every opportunity.
"You three go ahead to the barbecue restaurant," Tsunade announced, cutting through their argunt with the authority of soone used to being obeyed. "Hanekawa and I will catch up in a few minutes."
Jiraiya's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What are you planning? Please tell you're not about to gamble away my money."
"Would I do that?" Tsunade asked, her tone suggesting she absolutely would.
Jiraiya opened his mouth, then closed it again. He'd learned better than to answer that question.
"It won't take long," Tsunade continued, already steering Hanekawa away. "Ten minutes, maximum."
"This doesn't look like gambling," Jiraiya muttered, stroking his chin as he watched them go.
Orochimaru's pale eyes tracked their departure with interest. "It's for the boy."
"So?" Jiraiya shot back defensively.
"So," Orochimaru said with a thin smile, "Tsunade treats him better than she treats you."
"You bastard!" Jiraiya's face flushed red. "Let's see if you've improved at all this year!"
"Fighting when you can't win an argunt?" Orochimaru turned toward the restaurant entrance, his movents fluid and unhurried. "How childish."
"Get back here!" Jiraiya stord after him, already rolling up his sleeves.
---
Hanekawa followed Tsunade through the village streets until a storefront ca into view. The sign read "Nara Clan dicinal Herbs"—one of the three great clans' specialty shops, famous for their rare deer antler redies and other premium ingredients.
"We're buying dicine?" Hanekawa asked, genuinely puzzled. "Is soone hurt?"
"For you," Tsunade said casually, already browsing the shelves with the confidence of soone who knew exactly what she wanted. "To build up your body."
Hanekawa blinked. Wait, people actually take dicine for that in the ninja world? I thought that was just a manga thing.
Tsunade selected several bundles of herbs with practiced efficiency, then handed over paynt—Jiraiya's money, Hanekawa noted with an internal smirk. So this is what she ant by "not gambling." Technically accurate, I suppose.
They returned to the barbecue restaurant to find the owner already waiting. "Lady Tsunade, the Third Hokage and the others are in the private room."
Tsunade's expression flickered with surprise. Hiruzen? What's he doing here?
The private room revealed Sarutobi Hiruzen seated at the head of the table, with Orochimaru and Jiraiya already flanking him. The two younger Sannin were in the middle of another argunt, naturally.
"Sit," Hiruzen said, gesturing them over with the weary patience of a man who'd spent decades managing chaos.
Tsunade claid the seat across from him and pulled Hanekawa down beside her, squeezing him in without ceremony.
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"Lord Hokage," Hanekawa offered the appropriate greeting, bowing slightly from his seated position.
"You've been doing well lately," Hiruzen said, his gaze thoughtful. "Asuma's changed considerably. Your influence, I suspect."
Orochimaru chose that mont to extend his tongue—an unsettling length of muscle—and wrap it around several slices of at directly from the grill.
"Orochimaru!" Jiraiya's eye twitched. "Use chopsticks like a normal person!"
Hiruzen closed his eyes briefly, as if praying for patience. How did I end up with these three as students?
"Order whatever you want," Tsunade said, patting Hanekawa's head. "It's Jiraiya's treat."
Hanekawa didn't hesitate. "Five plates of the premium beef, please."
Jiraiya's eye twitched again. "You really are her student."
"At least he's not learning to gamble," Hiruzen muttered, though his tone suggested he'd already lost that particular battle.
"He's a child. I'd never let him gamble," Tsunade said, her expression perfectly innocent.
"Then why did you take him to the casino last week?" Hiruzen's voice had taken on a dangerous edge.
"Going to a casino isn't the sa as gambling," Tsunade replied smoothly, adding at to Hanekawa's bowl.
The silence that followed was deafening.
That's... not actually a defense, Hanekawa thought, keeping his expression neutral. But I respect the commitnt to the bit.
"When are you leaving?" Hiruzen asked Jiraiya, clearly deciding that particular argunt was unwinnable.
Jiraiya opened his mouth, then closed it. He had no good answer.
Orochimaru's tongue erged again, this ti wrapping around the at on the grill.
"Orochimaru!" Jiraiya thrust the tongs at him. "If you're going to eat it, at least cook it yourself!"
"It's burnt," Orochimaru said without inflection. "I'm improving it."
"It's not burnt! It's been like this for years!"
A vein pulsed on Jiraiya's forehead.
"Enough," Hiruzen announced, his voice carrying the weight of command. "Soone take the tongs."
Jiraiya shoved them at him imdiately.
Hiruzen's beard seed to bristle with indignation. "I am your teacher."
"And?" Jiraiya asked pointedly.
The barbecue descended into controlled chaos.
Hanekawa ate in peaceful silence, observing the dynamics with quiet amusent. Orochimaru's still relatively human at this point. The others are just... disrespectful to their elders in general. He speared another piece of beef. Sha how this all turns into war eventually.
---
After the al, Hanekawa followed Tsunade back to her house.
"Train yourself," she instructed, kicking off her shoes. "I'm going to brew the dicine."
Hanekawa positioned himself beneath the large tree in her yard and plucked a leaf. He recalled the technique Asuma had demonstrated—the precise chakra control required to cut leaves cleanly in half. It was a foundational exercise for wind-style jutsu.
He channeled chakra into the leaf.
It exploded.
Right. Still not there yet. He picked up another leaf and tried again. The D-Rank "Shippuden" entry gave him a 30% boost to wind-style talent, but that was far from genius-level. Mastery required ti and repetition.
The sun dipped lower. Hanekawa continued his practice, gradually improving. By the ti dusk painted the sky orange, he'd managed to cut a leaf into four pieces—progress, if not perfection.
"Hanekawa, drink your dicine."
Tsunade erged with a bowl of dark, ominous liquid.
Hanekawa pinched his nose and downed it in one gulp. His face contorted involuntarily. What is this? Liquified regret?
"Co on," Tsunade said, already heading inside.
She stopped at the bathroom door. Hanekawa peered inside and froze.
The bathtub wasn't filled with water.
It was filled with dicine.
"Undress," Tsunade commanded, arms crossed.
"What?" Hanekawa's eyes widened. "Aren't you leaving?"
"Why would I leave?" Tsunade's smile turned mischievous. "What's there to be shy about? You're just a little brat."
"Out," Hanekawa said firmly, his face darkening. "Now."
Tsunade's laugh echoed as she turned to leave. "Soak for thirty minutes. Don't skip it."
The door closed behind her.
Hanekawa stared at the dicinal bath with the expression of soone who'd just realized the price of having a legendary ninja as a teacher was apparently his dignity.
At least she cares, he thought, already unbuttoning his shirt. Even if she expresses it through maximum embarrassnt.
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