“Let’s continue learning today,” Mito said, sitting on a cushion nearby, holding an ancient Sealing Jutsu scroll.
“Mirai, yesterday you said you’d mastered the Four Symbols Seal.
Let me test you.”
She casually drew a simple jutsu array on the ground, asking Mirai to demonstrate the sealing process on the spot.
Mirai didn’t say a word, forming hand signs, guiding Chakra, and applying the seal.
The entire process was smooth and fluid, without a single wasted movement.
In the original work, Danzo Shimura used the Reverse Four Symbols Seal, sacrificing his life to seal a bridge.
That was an entire stone bridge, immensely powerful.
However, Mirai was only performing a mini version at the moment.
With his astonishing control, he naturally didn’t need to pay the price of his life.
It only consumed a bit of Chakra.
Mito nodded with satisfaction: “Good, you can start learning the Five Elements Seal now.”
She pulled out a new scroll and handed it to Mirai: “The Five Elements Seal involves the balance of five elemental Chakras, making it much more complex than the Four Symbols.
Read it first, and ask me if you don’t understand anything.”
Mirai took it and immediately buried himself in reading.
Then Mito turned to Kushina: “Kushina, have you memorized the core incantation of the Four Symbols Seal?”
Kushina: “…”
Mito sighed: “I knew you hadn’t.
Take this, copy the second paragraph fifty times, then recite it to me when you’re done.”
Kushina pouted as she took the paper and pen, then leaned over the table to start copying.
But before her pen moved a few times, her gaze involuntarily drifted towards Mirai next to her.
He sat cross-legged, the scroll spread on his lap, one hand turning pages, the other tracing the direction of the jutsu in the air, his brows slightly furrowed, his lips softly moving as he silently recited something.
The lamplight shone on his red hair, casting a warm halo.
Kushina was mesmerized, her pen tip still on the paper, completely unaware of a drop of ink spreading.
Mito saw all of this, took a sip from her teacup, and sighed softly in her heart.
This child’s feelings are truly impossible to hide.
But she didn’t expose it—sometimes, speaking of a young person’s heart can spoil its beauty.
Let nature take its course, as long as it doesn’t interfere with important matters.
An hour later, Mito stood up: “I’m going to prepare dinner for you two.
You both continue practicing here, no slacking off.”
As soon as she walked away, Kushina immediately threw down her pen, scooted over to Mirai, and rested her chin on the table next to him, tilting her head to watch him.
“Mirai, how’s your learning going?”
“It’s alright,” Mirai said without looking up.
“The theoretical framework of the Five Elements Seal is more complex than the Four Symbols, but the core logic is consistent.”
“I don’t understand.”
“…Then learn the Four Symbols first.”
“No, I just want to watch you learn.”
Mirai finally looked up, giving her a helpless glance: “Are you done copying?”
“No.”
“Then why aren’t you copying?
If Grandma Mito comes back and finds you slacking off, she’ll flick your forehead again.”
Kushina pouted, but didn’t move away.
She buried her face in her arms, only revealing her eyes, and mumbled: “Let me rest for a bit…
It’s not like anyone’s rushing me anyway.”
“…How did you become the Hokage’s woman with that attitude?”
“Then when will I become Hokage?”
“Uh, at least…
after more than ten years, right?”
“Then I’m not in a hurry.
It’s not too late to work hard after more than ten years.”
Mirai was so exasperated by her twisted logic that he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
He simply ignored her and continued reading the scroll.
Kushina just lay there quietly, watching him.
In the dim sealing room, there was only the rustling of the scroll and their shallow breathing.
She suddenly felt that staying like this forever would be quite nice.
Uchiha Naori, Uchiha Mikoto, none of them mattered.
After school, it was she, Uzumaki Kushina, who was by his side.
Of course, it would be even better if Grandma Mito didn’t require her to learn Sealing Jutsu.
After training in the evening, the two returned to the main house, just as Tsunade came back from outside.
Her mood today was clearly very bad.
Her golden hair was disheveled over her shoulders, her pretty face was long, and she kicked off her shoes with three times more force than usual when entering the door.
“Sister Tsunade, what’s wrong?” Kushina asked with concern.
“I’m annoyed, leave me alone.” Tsunade plopped down on the sofa, as if all the bones had been drawn from her body.
Uzumaki Mirai’s eyes darted around, then he walked over to her: “Sister Tsunade, do you want me to give you a massage?
You massaged me for a month, it’s my turn to return the favor.”
Tsunade glanced at him, hesitated for a moment, and finally lazily rolled over onto her stomach on the sofa: “Come on, I’ll go take a bath first.
Massage my shoulders later, they’re killing me.”
“Aye!”
Tsunade took a hot bath and came out wrapped only in a short towel, her fair shoulders and back largely exposed, with water droplets still clinging to her skin.
Beneath the towel, a pair of taut, shapely long legs were visible, making Uzumaki Mirai’s eyes light up.
Truly worthy of a woman who can unleash the Heaven Kick!
He swallowed, rubbed his hands, and sat down, placing both hands on her shoulders and beginning to knead.
Tsunade let out a comfortable “hmm,” and relaxed completely.
She didn’t treat Mirai as an outsider at all—just a seven-year-old kid, what kind of ulterior motives could he have?
During the massage, the towel gradually loosened and slipped slightly, revealing more and more of the fair, rounded areas.
Mirai massaged while feasting his eyes.
Tsunade’s figure was truly excellent.
Her thighs were fair and long, and her upper body curves were incredibly proud, her waist slender, and her skin smooth and firm as if it glowed.
He almost lost control of the strength in his hands.
Just then, Tsunade suddenly opened one eye and squinted at him: “Brat, what are you looking at?”
“Looking at the scenery,” Mirai said, his expression unchanged.
“Beautiful scenery.”
“Whack!”
A knuckle rap landed on his head.
“Scenery my foot!
Massage properly!”
Mirai rubbed his head, wincing, and obediently retracted his gaze to continue massaging.
But in his heart, he thought—this beating will be repaid eventually, Sister Tsunade, just you wait.
After massaging for a while, Mirai’s strength gradually lightened, and his tone became casual: “Sister Tsunade, are you in a bad mood today because you lost at gambling?
How much did you lose?”
“What do you mean, ‘how much did I lose’?!” Tsunade suddenly flipped over, her towel nearly slipping off.
She quickly grabbed it to hold it in place, glaring at Mirai, “Am I the kind of person who only loses money at the gambling table?”
Mirai silently watched her for two seconds.
Tsunade felt guilty under his gaze and turned her face away: “…Alright, I did lose a bit today, but that’s not the point!”
“Then what is the point?”
Tsunade sighed and lay back down, her voice muffled by the sofa cushion: “Today at the Jonin Conference, I proposed establishing Medical Teams within Ninja squads, assigning at least one Medical Ninja to each squad.
This way, when performing missions, injuries can be treated immediately, saving many lives.”
She paused, a hint of displeasure in her tone:
“But the old guys from the Logistics Department directly rejected it, saying there wasn’t enough budget, insufficient manpower, and the training period was too long.
Other Jonin also thought it was unnecessary, saying things like ‘Ninja should learn to treat their own wounds’ and ‘where would there be time for specialized treatment on the battlefield’…
A bunch of old fogies.”
“Only one person agreed with my proposal.”
Mirai’s movements paused slightly: “Who?”
“Kato Dan,” Tsunade’s voice held a trace of surprise and gratitude, “He said, ‘Every Ninja on the battlefield is a valuable resource; one more Medical Ninja can save one more life.'”
“Unfortunately, he also had little influence, and the proposal ultimately didn’t pass.”
When Mirai heard that name, his eyes suddenly became serious.
Kato Dan.
In the original work, Sister Tsunade’s boyfriend, who later died in the Ninja World War.
It was his and Nawaki’s deaths that left a lifelong shadow in Tsunade’s heart, causing her to develop Hemophobia.
So it started at this time—with everyone else opposing, and only Kato Dan agreeing, how could Tsunade not remember him?
“What about Senior Jiraiya and Senior Orochimaru?” Mirai asked.
“Both went out on missions and didn’t attend the meeting.
Otherwise, at least Orochimaru could have spoken up for me…”
Tsunade’s voice grew softer and softer, carrying an obvious sense of loss.
Mirai was silent for a moment, then spoke:
“Sister Tsunade, I think your proposal is excellent.”
Tsunade tilted her head slightly, revealing one eye to look at him: “What would a little brat like you know?”
“I know,” Mirai continued massaging, his tone very serious.
“Think about it, if someone in a Ninja squad is seriously injured during a mission, do they just have to retreat?
But if there’s a Medical Ninja in the team, they can treat the injuries on the spot and continue the mission.
Moreover, a Medical Ninja can also assess teammates’ stamina in advance, preventing non-combat casualties due to over-fatigue.”
Tsunade was stunned.
“Also,” Mirai continued, “if every squad is equipped with a Medical Ninja, the experience accumulated by Medical Ninjas in combat will be much greater than simply in a hospital.
Medical Ninjas who grow up in real combat are a hundred times stronger than those who can only treat colds.”
The room fell silent for a moment.
Tsunade suddenly sat up, her towel nearly slipping again.
This time she didn’t bother to pull it up, staring wide-eyed at Mirai: “You…
where did you learn all this?”
“It’s written on the sealing scroll,” Mirai bluffed without changing his expression, but in reality, his gaze had long been wandering.
There was no other way; with Tsunade’s towel falling, the attraction from a certain area was simply too great.
As the saying goes, the greater the mass, the greater the gravity, so Mirai couldn’t be blamed for this.
“One of Grandma Mito’s scrolls talks about the history of battlefield medicine.”
Tsunade stared at him for several seconds, then suddenly pulled him into a fierce hug.
“You little brat…
you really are…” Her voice was muffled, with a hint of a sniffle, “…much more sensible than those old fogies.”
Mirai was buried in a soft warmth, instantly forgetting what he was about to say.
Facial cleanser, this was the legendary facial cleanser!
He felt his nosebleed was about to burst.
Good thing he was just a kid, otherwise he would have made a fool of himself.
Tsunade let go of him after a while; after all, in her eyes, Mirai was just a child, so a hug was nothing.
She lay back down, pulling the towel up to cover the beautiful scenery, the gloom on her face having largely dispersed.
“But what’s the use of only you agreeing?
If it doesn’t pass the Jonin Conference, it’s all for nothing.”
Mirai rubbed his still slightly dazed nose, looked at Tsunade’s dejected profile, and his eyes darted around.
—Sister Tsunade is mine; I definitely can’t let her go to Kato Dan.
So the best way was for him to help Tsunade get this proposal passed.
This would both cut off Kato Dan’s opportunity to gain her favor and make Tsunade see him in a new light.
A smile slowly curved his lips.
“Sister Tsunade, how about…
I help you think of a solution?”