The atmosphere was rather subdued. Only the lively chatter of the diners at a few nearby tables and the sizzling of the barbecue broke the silence.
Shinichi quietly sipped his tea without saying a word.
He could tell that one of the legendary Sannin was in a terrible mood. She certainly hadn't come just to drink.
Sure enough, after downing two more cups, Tsunade lifted her bleary eyes to glance at him and tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Kid, tell me—what's so great about being a ninja?"
"You work yourself to the bone, train endlessly, and end up covered in injuries... What's it all for? A few lousy missions? A little hush money? Or those grand-sounding principles that are nothing but bullshit?"
She took a swig of sake, her gaze drifting toward the gloomy sky outside the window.
"Every day, you risk your neck, never knowing if you'll live to see tomorrow... One day, you might die in some forgotten corner, and no one will even come to bury you. Comrades? Ha! The comrade you drank with today might be nothing more than a name carved in stone tomorrow..."
Her voice grew heavier and heavier. Rather than asking Shinichi, she seemed to be interrogating herself, questioning the profession she had once fought for but now wanted only to escape.
Shinichi stayed silent, not answering right away.
He could tell that Tsunade wasn't directing those words at him. They were long-suppressed feelings, finally finding an outlet in the alcohol. He just happened to be sitting across from her.
When Shinichi didn't reply, Tsunade suddenly leaned closer, her breath heavy with alcohol almost hitting his face. "What about you, kid? Why do you want to be a ninja? What are you working so hard to train for, you little genius?"