Hanekawa looked up at Tsunade with what he hoped was an innocent expression. It didn't work.

  "Understand?" she asked, her shadow falling across him as she swayed slightly.

  "Understood," he said sincerely, deciding to play along. "Teacher, let me help you take off your shoes."

  That seemed to satisfy her. Tsunade released him from the crushing grip of her thighs—a survival he was genuinely grateful for—and stretched her leg toward him, her jade feet delicate and smooth against the air.

  Well, this is a new level of weird, Hanekawa thought, reaching for her high-heeled sandals.

  He unbuttoned the first one carefully, sliding it off to expose her fair foot. Perhaps unused to the contact, her toes curled slightly. He moved to the second foot, repeating the process with practiced efficiency.

  Then he made the mistake of grabbing the sole of her foot twice.

  "Kid!" Tsunade's body trembled, and she stepped on him in displeasure.

  Hanekawa blocked instinctively and backpedaled. "I'll go cook!" he called, already moving toward the kitchen.

  He heard her clenched fist hit the sofa behind him, but she didn't pursue. "I'll deal with you later," her voice carried after him.

  Great. Death flags everywhere.

  ---

  After dinner, training resumed—except today Tsunade threw kunai with considerably less restraint than usual. Hanekawa dodged frantically, angry but wise enough to keep his mouth shut.

  "Come over," Tsunade finally called, withdrawing her hand as she looked up at the darkening sky.

  Hanekawa limped toward her, already dreading what came next.

  "Do you dare next time?" she asked, holding out her hand. Green chakra flowed from her palm, healing his minor cuts and bruises.

  "Next time what?" Hanekawa blinked.

  Tsunade pinched his cheek after finishing the treatment. "Remember to come early tomorrow."

  "Ah. Goodbye, Teacher."

  ---

  The next morning, Hanekawa arrived extra early—only to find Tsunade still sleeping soundly, her hair a wild mess, her expression peaceful.

  Really unreliable, he thought, raising his hand to knock.

  "Want to die?" Her voice came through the door, sharp and dangerous.

  The door opened to reveal Tsunade in her pajamas, her fur standing on end like an angry cat. Her expression shifted from murderous to embarrassed in seconds, but she recovered quickly, retreating to change clothes without another word.

  After breakfast, they headed into the village.

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  "Where are we going?" Hanekawa asked.

  "The Yamanaka clan's flower shop," Tsunade replied, her expression shifting. The usual confidence drained away, replaced by something heavy—sadness, maybe. Regret.

  Hanekawa didn't ask questions.

  At the flower shop, Tsunade purchased two bouquets of white chrysanthemums. Hanekawa recognized the meaning immediately. Mourning flowers.

  They walked in silence toward the Konoha Memorial Monument.

  The cemetery was quiet, peaceful in the way only places of death could be. Hanekawa followed Tsunade's lead until a figure caught his attention—a thin person with long black hair and earrings, standing before one of the monuments.

  How can you assume my gender? Hanekawa thought automatically, then recognized the figure.

  Orochimaru.

  "Tsunade, long time no see," the Sannin said, turning at the sound of their footsteps. His eyes—those unsettling, predatory eyes—fixed on Hanekawa. "Hanekawa? I've heard your name."

  Great. Now I'm on the radar of one of the legendary ninja who'll eventually try to destroy the village. Fantastic.

  "Orochimaru," Tsunade said, her hand settling protectively on Hanekawa's head. "This is my student."

  Surprise flickered across Orochimaru's face. "The first time I've seen you bring an outsider here."

  "He's not an outsider," Tsunade said firmly. "He's my student."

  Orochimaru's gaze lingered on Hanekawa for a moment longer before he stepped aside, allowing them to place their flowers before Nawaki's monument. Hanekawa watched the Sannin's expression shift—a flicker of something almost human, quickly suppressed.

  "What have you been doing?" Tsunade asked, turning to face him.

  "The Third asked me to join Root," Orochimaru replied casually.

  Tsunade's frown deepened. "Danzo? He won't let you go?"

  "It's fine," Orochimaru said with a shrug. "Root isn't terrible."

  "Danzo is dangerous," Tsunade warned.

  "He can't touch me," Orochimaru said with absolute confidence.

  Before Tsunade could respond, a figure came sprinting toward them.

  "Tsunade wow!" Jiraiya called out, his energy completely at odds with the solemn cemetery.

  Orochimaru chuckled. Tsunade raised her hand, then clenched it into a fist.

  "And many more!" Jiraiya skidded to a stop, holding up his hands. "Don't fight, don't fight!"

  "You're late," Orochimaru observed.

  "Traffic," Jiraiya said with a grin.

  Orochimaru's nose twitched. "You smell like women's perfume."

  Jiraiya's smile froze. His glare could have killed. I'll destroy you, you dead snake.

  Orochimaru simply stared back, unimpressed.

  "I'll pay my respects first!" Jiraiya announced quickly, moving past them to place his own white chrysanthemum.

  Tsunade snorted, taking Hanekawa's hand and deliberately distancing herself from Jiraiya. The Sannin's jaw tightened as he watched them, but he said nothing.

  When Jiraiya turned back, his expression had shifted to something more genuine. He looked at Nawaki's monument in silence, and for a moment, the cemetery felt even quieter.

  "Since his death," Jiraiya said softly, "things have changed. Especially for Orochimaru."

  "It's rare for us all to gather," Jiraiya continued, forcing brightness back into his voice. "Let's go for barbecue. My treat."

  "No," Tsunade said immediately, glancing at Hanekawa. "I have other plans."

  "More important than the Sannin reunion?" Jiraiya asked, his tone suggesting the answer should be obvious.

  "Don't call us that," Orochimaru said coldly. "The demigod Hanzo gave us that name. It sounds impressive, but it's humiliating—none of us ever defeated him."

  Jiraiya's shoulders sagged slightly. "You can still go, Orochimaru."

  "I have things to do," Orochimaru replied, already turning to leave.

  Jiraiya watched him go, then looked back at Tsunade. "At least lend me some money for the meal?"

  Tsunade rolled her eyes. "Fine."

  Jiraiya nodded painfully. Lending money to Tsunade is basically the same as never seeing it again.

  As the three Legendary Sannin drifted apart—each carrying their own burdens, their own losses—Hanekawa squeezed Tsunade's hand gently.

  She glanced down at him, and for just a moment, her expression softened.