Irreversible Harm, Jiraiya-sensei's Resolve

Drip... drip...

Inside a white hospital room, liquid dripped from the IV tube, and on the electrocardiogram monitor, lines pulsed in a steady rhythm.

Outside the window, the moon hung high in the night sky, casting a cold light along the edge of the bed.

On that single hospital bed, Tsunade slowly opened her eyes, dazedly turning her head to look beside her, seeing a mess of white hair.

"Huff! Huff!"

In the chair next to her, Jiraiya-sensei sat with his arms crossed, head drooped and eyes closed in a light doze, letting out faint snores.

This guy, his snores used to shake the heavens, but now...

Thinking of this, Tsunade's gaze grew hazy, and she subconsciously reached out her right hand toward him.

But in the next moment, her pupils sharply contracted, a chill creeping over her body as her groggy consciousness gradually cleared.

The memories in her mind began to trace back, like fish swimming upstream, swiftly bypassing trivial fragments until they reached the river's peak.

What finally stopped was an extreme pain, a blaze that seemed to ignite the entire world, a soft laugh that still seemed to echo in her ears, and the panicked figure running toward her.

The memory ended there.

A surge of intense fear welled up, followed by a nauseating revulsion.

Coupled with the spreading pain reawakening in her body, the color that had returned to Tsunade's face drained away, and she instantly leaned over the bedside, dry heaving.

"Ugh! Cough!!"

Because her voice was so loud, Jiraiya-sensei's body jolted, and he snapped his eyes open, turning his head toward the bed.

"Tsunade!"

Seeing her coughing and retching, he reached out in panic to gently pat her back: "Slow down, your body right now..."

But it didn't help much; Tsunade kept coughing.

"Cough! Cough!"

As if she were trying to cough up her lungs, the sound was hoarse and harsh, like a broken bellows, more mournful than the wind outside the window.

Her left hand gripped Jiraiya-sensei's hand tightly, her somewhat sharp nails digging into the back of his hand.

A flicker of pain passed through Jiraiya-sensei's eyes, but he still held her wrist in return.

After about half a minute, the sounds of retching and coughing in the room gradually subsided.

Instead, a chilling silence fell, so quiet you could hear the crisp sound of water droplets hitting the floor.

"Huff!"

Jiraiya-sensei let out a breath, relaxing the muscles in his face, forcing a smile onto his worried expression, then scratched his head with a foolish grin: "How are you feeling now?"

Tsunade released her grip on his left hand and said hoarsely, "I... had a dream."

"A nightmare?" Jiraiya-sensei chuckled softly, lowering his voice. "It was just a dream."

"..." Tsunade sat up silently, turned her head to look out the window, and smiled inexplicably. "I dreamed my right hand was crippled."

The exaggerated smile on Jiraiya-sensei's face froze, and he could no longer keep up his carefree demeanor.

Just one window away lay the bustling Konoha.

Even at night, sparks of light still glowed; the murky yellow streetlights spread like veins through every corner of Konoha's streets, the darkness illuminated by their glow.

The clamor of villagers on the lively streets rose into the air with a humid warmth, giving Konoha a completely different vitality, showing no trace of war's suffering.

Only the figures hurrying past could prove the tension of the current situation.

All this beauty and liveliness existed outside the hospital room.

Inside, Tsunade lowered her head, staring blankly at her right arm.

The bright window glass reflected her face.

Withered, pale, weak, fragile...

As the finest medical ninja in all of Konoha, even the entire ninja world, Tsunade could feel the Chakra flowing through her right hand at an agonizingly slow pace.

Her entire arm was covered in countless tiny punctures, like needle pricks, severing the pathways within her arm that circulated and conducted Chakra.

That wasn't a dream.

That was her reality.

Click.

Jiraiya-sensei opened the door to the hospital room, but paused as he stepped out, turning back to glance at Tsunade on the bed.

Her eyelids were lowered, her eyes hiding helplessness.

The bustle outside the window and the pain inside—though in the same place, they felt like separate spaces.

For the first time, Jiraiya-sensei, who had always taken pride in Konoha, felt that it would have been better if Konoha's nights weren't so lively.

If it weren't so bright outside, the face on the glass would have been blurred, not so fragile and pale.

The unadorned truth now was far too stark and cruel for her current state.

"...Sigh."

Letting out a deep sigh from the heart, Jiraiya closed the door to the hospital room.

Outside was the hospital's bustling corridor, the lights casting a cold gleam on the floor.

"Jiraiya-sama."

A female doctor approached Jiraiya and gave a slight bow, speaking with the deference and apology of a subordinate to a superior, her voice low: "I'm sorry, this is the limit of what we could do."

"With Konoha's current medical ninjutsu standards, we can only restore Tsunade-sama's arm to normal mobility, but the countless meridians inside..."

She left the last words unspoken, but Jiraiya understood her meaning.

--That was irreversible damage.

In other words, from now on, the strength of Tsunade's dominant right arm, unable to conduct chakra, would be no different from an ordinary person's, at most on par with a samurai's.

Even her most adept medical ninjutsu could no longer be used.

Jiraiya couldn't fathom the pain in her heart. She was already grieving Nawaki's death, burdened by the trust of Konoha's ninja, and under immense psychological pressure lately.

And now, this...

"Don't apologize, Dr. Muramatsu. You did your best, and I'm grateful for that." Jiraiya's cheek twitched, his smile bitter. "Tsunade should know it in her own heart, too."

After all, that masked bastard's attack wasn't a "severance"—it was a violent churning of fine air blades inside the body.

The precision and form manipulation of that terrifying wind-release chakra control, even though Jiraiya had made emergency treatment based on experience and instinct, preventing the air from reaching vital parts like the heart and brain, it still wasn't something they could reconnect or repair through surgery.

Even the high-level medical ninjutsu "Mystical Palm Technique" could only enhance the healing ability of wounds or affected areas.

Even if they could slowly nurture it this way, it was unlikely to fully restore her to her original state. Pouring excessive yang-natured chakra into her body might even disrupt her normal circulatory system.

It was like neatly arranged "threads" being snapped; even if reconnected, they'd tangle into a mess with the original threads.

Perhaps the "Yin Seal" Tsunade hadn't yet mastered, and the still-conceptual "Mitotic Regeneration: Strength of a Hundred Sealings," might have hope for such complex and meticulous repairs.

But now, with one hand crippled, perfecting a secret technique seemed far off.

The only solution Jiraiya could think of was to seek out the Slug Sage or the Great Toad Sage.

"Being unable to heal Tsunade-sama is our incompetence and failure." Dr. Muramatsu shook her head guiltily. "You've been protecting us on the front lines all along..."

The front lines... war...

Jiraiya let out a weary breath, waved his hand, and walked away without a word.

Tsunade had been unconscious for nearly three days. Orochimaru had returned from Kumogakure, his mission apparently completed successfully.

With heavy losses and preoccupied with its own troubles, Kumogakure had temporarily lost the deterrent of the Eight-Tails Jinchuriki, leaving only the Two-Tails Jinchuriki, who had mastered his power, unable to interfere further in the war.

But...

Orochimaru's complexion and condition didn't look good either.

Especially after hearing that Tsunade had been injured by the guy in the blank mask, his already pale and sickly face turned incredibly grim.

Yet no matter how much Jiraiya pressed him, he remained silent.

"Bad luck just keeps piling up."

Jiraiya leaned against the dimly lit stairwell, looking up at the bright full moon outside the window.

In a daze, he seemed to see that brilliant slash again, and the fire tornado raised with a wave of a hand.

And the look of terror on Tsunade's face when she mentioned that guy.

Just... a gift upon first meeting?

A seal-less technique?

Or something else?

That masked bastard's words sounded like he'd just passed by and casually tossed a greeting gift.

"Tch!"

Jiraiya dropped his head in irritation, punching the wall beside him. His face was indistinct in the shadows as he muttered, "What a guy I despise from the bottom of my heart!"

"Next time we meet, I'll tear off that mask and see what ugly face hides behind it, to develop such a venomous, despicable technique!"

"I swear! I swear!!"

Meanwhile, at the border between the Land of Fire and the Land of Hot Water, Yun Chuan suddenly sneezed.

"What's wrong?" Nagato beside him frowned, turning to ask. "Are you injured?"

"It's nothing." Yun Chuan rubbed his nose and smiled. "Someone must be praising me."

Baiyu had originally suggested taking a detour to the Land of Whirlpools, since the Land of Fire's border was under strict lockdown, and getting caught would cause trouble.

But Yun Chuan ultimately chose to charge straight through the Land of Fire's border.

No other reason—he had no prejudice against Konoha.

It was just that the Land of Fire and Konoha were in his way.

"However, there is an unexpected blessing." Yun Chuan pondered, sinking his consciousness into his mind.

A new character template was gleaming brightly. After seeing the character's name, the expression on Yun Chuan's face turned somewhat strange.

"Why this thing?"