Night fell, and gentle moonlight spilled over the palace courtyard in the Land of Demons. The night breeze brushed past, carrying the faint fragrance of flowers and grass.
Shinichi leaned against a wooden pillar in the corridor, his hands behind his head as he lazily gazed at the stars.
Tsunade stood a short distance away with her arms folded and her brow furrowed. A trace of impatience and doubt colored her voice. "Hey, do you really believe the Miko's prophecy?"
Shinichi tilted his head slightly and glanced at her, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "Little Tsunade, are you worrying about me again?"
Tsunade glared at him and snorted. "Don't flatter yourself! I just think you've never believed in fate, and you hate letting other people decide your future. So why are you willing to accept her prophecy this time?"
Shinichi chuckled softly and turned his gaze back to the night sky. "Of course I don't believe in fate."
He paused, slowly closing his eyes and letting the night breeze brush his face. His voice was relaxed. "But if a vision of the future is already laid out before me, I'd rather see whether I have what it takes to tear it apart—or rewrite it."
Tsunade froze for a moment and looked up at Shinichi's profile. In the moonlight, his expression was languid, yet it held an indescribable resolve and confidence.
Suddenly, she began to understand.
This man had never been someone who followed fate. He would only seize control of everything in his own way.
She fell silent for a moment, then her lips curled slightly, a teasing note entering her voice. "Hmph, rewriting the future sounds pretty arrogant. Just don't die, then. I don't have time to collect your corpse."
Shinichi laughed softly, then turned toward her