Ever since Tsunade was born, Hashirama had been beside himself with joy. He carried his granddaughter on his back all day and took her everywhere he went, doting on her beyond measure.
Little Tsunade was no ordinary child. Perhaps it was something special about the bloodlines of the two clans, but she grew remarkably quickly.
The little girl was bursting with energy and terribly mischievous. She especially loved being held and had a knack for running the adults ragged. She was a little devil.
If no one watched her and held her, little Tsunade could wail nonstop all day. Even if they waited until she fell asleep before gently putting her down, she would wake immediately and cry endlessly until someone picked her up again.
A child like that was more than the first-time parents Tatsuki and Momoka could handle.
After just a few days, the baby had eaten herself round and plump as a piglet, while the two of them looked gray-faced and haggard as corpses. Any more of this, and they might drop dead!
Momoka was still recovering from childbirth, and Tatsuki had to look after both his wife and the Bakery's business. Tobirama, needless to say, had never had a moment to spare. And so the heavy responsibility of caring for his granddaughter naturally fell to Hashirama, who eagerly volunteered.
As it turned out, looking after a baby was a job no human should have to endure. Even the God of Shinobi could be run ragged.
Hashirama had originally had not a single wrinkle on his face. Coupled with his goofy demeanor, he looked so young that no one would have guessed he had a son Tatsuki's age. But once he started carrying Tsunade on his back, he suddenly looked the part of a grandfather.
Ever since