Seijuro continued working, occasionally glancing through his notes, using shadow clones whenever necessary. He was always in the hospital, either studying or assisting in so way.
Sotis, Tsunade even had him observe as she treated a patient. Sotis, he treated them himself—without chakra, of course—just handling the basic stuff. dical Ninjutsu was proving to be quite effective.
If he were to test his stats right now, they would be:
Ninjutsu: Jounin
Taijutsu: Chunin
Genjutsu: Kage
Sealing Jutsu: Master
Swordsmanship: Chunin
IQ: Jounin
Chakra: Jounin
Overall ranking: Tōbetsu Jōnin.
His stats were fairly balanced. So areas needed improvent, but overall, he was solid. It had been six months since he beca a Genin, and he had trained like a demon the whole ti. While his sealing expertise could be considered "Master," that wasn't exactly high praise. It was simply the bare minimum required to even attempt to seal a Tailed Beast—and even then, issues could easily arise.
He wished he was better with swordsmanship, but oh well—beggars couldn't be choosers. He sighed to himself.
His swordsmanship style, Kyouken no Kage, was effective.
Even at its second stage, it could trick most Chunin-level opponents, but that was about it. He sighed again, deeper this ti. His dical ninjutsu hovered around Chunin level too—akin to a Chunin who specialized exclusively in dical techniques.
That Tōbetsu Jōnin ranking was accurate—unofficial, of course, but true nonetheless.
Officially, he was a Genin of Konoha. A harmless Genin. One who happened to have three A-rank missions and several B-ranks under his belt.
Don't worry about it.
He returned to studying the human body. In his opinion, this knowledge should be mandatory for any serious shinobi.
Why, you may ask?
Because the more intimately you understood how the human body worked, the deadlier you beca—and the harder it was for enemies to deceive you. Unsure if soone's actually dead? Test involuntary responses. For example, place fabric over their face, pour water on it—if they're alive, they'll react. Or, from a distance, check for subtle chest movents or twitching beneath the eyelids.
The body told stories, even in silence.
Now, he knew exactly where to hit to cause maximum damage. An artery near the neck, for example—strike that and blood would gush out, possibly choking the victim on their own fluids.
Humans were fragile. Disgustingly so. Yet fascinating.
He closed the anatomy book and walked over to a fish in a water tank. His hand began to glow with a soft green hue as he initiated a healing technique.
Tsunade stood nearby, silently observing his progress.
He was doing well—no mistakes so far.
Good. He was picking up dical Ninjutsu fast. Not quite at her legendary pace, of course, but still fast—especially for soone whose strongest suit was Genjutsu. She had learned firsthand that his illusions could still affect her, though internal manipulations had limited effect. Environntal Genjutsu, however, still posed a threat.
When he tried to tamper with her mind directly, though... things didn't go his way.
Her chakra control was nearly flawless—sowhere around 90%. She felt the disruptions when his Genjutsu tried to ss with her amygdala or frontal cortex. And when she felt them? She kicked them out. They weren't welco in there.
"When this is over, you'll need to heal a guy who got burned by a fire jutsu. Be ready," she said, watching his expression carefully.
He nodded, eyes focused on the fish.
"Yes, Sensei."
He finished healing the aquatic patient and gently placed the now-healthy fish back into the tank. It imdiately began swimming about, full of life.
Seijuro removed the gloves from his hands, walked to the sink, and began cleaning up properly—scrubbing his hands, drying them with a clean towel, and applying a light disinfecting alcohol. Tsunade had been crystal clear: Your hands must be clean. Always.
She was, by all definitions, a highly competent kunoichi.
They entered a nearby room, where Seijuro was greeted with the charred remains of a man who looked like he'd been cooked alive. His skin was blackened, crusted, and swollen. The man would bear these scars for life—if he lived at all.
Tsunade studied Seijuro's expression closely.
"This happened during a mission in the Land of Rain. He was hit by an enemy using water jutsu."
Seijuro's brow furrowed.
"Water jutsu doesn't typically burn. Was it acid-based? If so, what type of acid? And how long was his skin exposed to it?"
Tsunade smirked slightly—those were exactly the questions she'd hoped he'd ask.
"From the report, they were fighting near a restaurant. The attacker used boiling water—boiling noodles, to be specific—as a weapon."
He blinked. Wait... didn't she say fire jutsu?
"He used Earth Release to block the boiling water, but that left him wide open for a fireball jutsu."
Ah. Okay. So the man got cooked.
Seijuro sighed. Ti to get to work.
The early stabilization had already been handled. The patient's vitals were under control. Now it was ti to address the trauma.
He retrieved a surgical scalpel and began delicately cutting away necrotic tissue—blackened, dead skin that served no purpose but to fester. The stench was unpleasant. The sight, even worse. Yet Seijuro's hands remained steady.
Once the surface was clean, he activated his dical Ninjutsu, the soft green glow returning. He used his chakra to stimulate the regeneration of viable skin cells—not just healing the surface, but carefully shaping layers of new skin in alignnt with natural dermal patterns. It was slow, painstaking work.
He couldn't repair nerves. Not yet. That was still beyond his level. But what he could do was remove damaged tissue, prevent infection, reduce long-term scarring, and restore a semblance of structure to the man's appearance.
For three hours straight, Seijuro worked.
His breathing was calm. His expression? Unchanging. As if he hadn't just peeled a man alive and rebuilt him piece by piece.
By the end of it, the man no longer looked like charcoal. Scars still remained, especially along his chest and arms—but he looked human again. His body wasn't pitch black. His skin, while scarred and pink from regeneration, had returned.
Seijuro stepped back, removed his gloves, and began the cleansing ritual again—rinsing, drying, disinfecting.
Tsunade watched the entire process, arms crossed. She hadn't said a word—but her gaze never left him.
He passed her test.
And he didn't even flinch.
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