The house was completely dark—no lights were on. Uchiha Tatsumi walked quietly to the door, about to open it and step into his room.
"Huh? Someone's inside!"
He stopped immediately, his body tensing.
In one smooth motion, he pulled a kunai from the pouch at his waist. The blade gleamed faintly in the shadows.
"Hmph! It must be that damned Tsunade. Tomorrow's the last day—finally, this insane training week ends."
And now Tsunade was sneaking into his room again? Trying to catch him off guard?
As for whether it was Nawaki? Definitely not. Jiraiya had come by a few days ago to drag Nawaki off for some "research" on girls in short skirts. Tsunade, who had transformed into a tuft of grass with the Transformation Technique, had overheard them.
Since then, Nawaki had found every excuse to avoid her, saying he was training with Jiraiya.
Tatsumi narrowed his eyes and quickly formed a hand seal.
"Shadow Clone Technique."
A B-rank ninjutsu. He'd learned it directly from Tsunade. Unlike the basic Clone Technique that created intangible illusions, the Shadow Clone was a physical duplicate, dividing his chakra equally. For someone like Tatsumi, with excellent chakra control, mastering it had been straightforward.
He and his clone exchanged glances and nodded.
The clone walked to the door and deliberately made a loud noise as it turned the handle. At the same time, Tatsumi quietly opened the window and slipped inside like a whisper of wind.
But Tsunade—if it was her—didn't react. She remained on the bed, seemingly asleep.
"Huh? Playing dead again? Leaving obvious openings just to bait me in? Not gonna happen," Tatsumi muttered knowingly.
He pulled out a few miniature explosive tags—a custom prank version he'd found in Nawaki's stash. These retained the signature crackling of a standard tag but had the explosive force of a firecracker.
The first time Tsunade tossed one into his bed, Tatsumi had nearly died of fright. He'd bolted upright, heart racing—and, to his eternal shame, he'd accidentally peed the bed in panic.
Shame of a lifetime.
No wonder Nawaki ended up blowing himself up with a tag. Karma?
Tatsumi smirked. "Here's payback, Tsunade."
He flung the tags onto the bed.
There was a crackling spark.
The person on the bed stirred sluggishly. Then came a voice—shaky, high-pitched.
"W-Wait... a detonation tag?! H-Help...!"
The voice, full of panic, made Tatsumi pause. Even the acting felt too real.
Tsunade? Using a child's voice? Going all-out with her performance again?
The explosion popped like a small firework.
Still no response.
Frowning, Tatsumi turned on the light—and froze.
It wasn't Tsunade.
It was a little girl, no older than five or six, with shoulder-length red hair and dressed in pink pajamas. Her eyes were wide and dazed.
"…Kushina?" Tatsumi muttered, stunned.
Uzumaki Kushina.
Shit.
Why was Kushina, Konoha's Nine-Tails Jinchūriki and a literal top-secret asset, sleeping in his bed?
This was a diplomatic incident waiting to happen.
"Should I defect?!" panicked Tatsumi's inner demon.
"Don't be crazy! Your friends are in Konoha!" the angel retorted.
"You've scared a Jinchūriki. Konoha will hunt you down," the demon insisted.
"You can't run. ANBU protects her," the angel countered.
"Doesn't matter! Flee to the Land of Wind and eat sand, or the Land of Earth and chew rocks!"
"That… actually makes sense." The angel folded immediately.
Tatsumi began packing to run.
"—I'm going to kill you—!"
Kushina had regained her senses. She looked like she'd gone Super Saiyan. Her red hair spiked outwards, and a terrifying chakra presence radiated off her.
"You're dead! I'll break your hands and feet! One by one!"
She looked like a force of nature. A full-blown Uzumaki rage mode.
Terrifying.
Just as Tatsumi turned to flee, he noticed something—Kushina's body was trembling.
"…I hate ninjas," she muttered. "Konoha, all of them... I just want to go home…"
He blinked, confused.
Then—a tear slipped down her cheek.
"…Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, hesitant.
"I-I'm sorry…" she whispered.
Now completely lost, Tatsumi could only stand there awkwardly.
Kushina collapsed into the bed, burying her face in the blanket. Her shoulders trembled. Soft sobs escaped her, despite her attempts to muffle them.
Tatsumi watched, stunned into silence. The room was filled with a quiet, painful sadness.
He could only stand there, helpless, as the little girl cried.