“Director, are you heading out?” The moment Hanekawa arrived at the orphanage, he ran into Nonō Yakushi hurrying out the front gate.
“Hanekawa?” Nonō paused, slightly surprised.
“What brings you here today?
Is something wrong?” “No, it’s just Sunday, so I wanted to visit,” Hanekawa said, lightly shaking the illustrated books in his hand.
“I brought a few gifts for everyone.” “That’s very thoughtful of you,” Nonō offered a warm, maternal smile.
“It’s nothing,” Hanekawa shook his head.
“Everyone here has always looked after me.” “Go on inside then,” Nonō said, gently patting his head.
“I have to head over to the Konoha Hospital.” “Is it for a surgery?” Hanekawa asked casually.
Nonō effectively wore three different hats: she was the director of the orphanage, a deep-cover operative for Root, and a medical ninja at the hospital.
Given her high level of expertise, any surgery requiring her presence was bound to involve a high-ranking shinobi.
“No, it’s for a staff meeting,” Nonō paused before adding, “Lady Tsunade has returned to the facility.
She is the hospital’s director, after all.” “Lady Tsunade?” Hanekawa’s eyes lit up.
“Can I come along?
I’m a massive fan of hers.
I’ve always wanted to meet her.” As one of the legendary Sannin, Tsunade was the ultimate idol for countless young shinobi in the village.
Claiming to be a fan wouldn’t arouse a single shred of suspicion.
“It’s a formal administrative meeting, so it wouldn’t be appropriate for you to attend,” Nonō thought it over for a moment, then smiled.
“How about next Saturday?
I’ll personally take you to meet her.” “Deal!” Hanekawa managed to suppress his lingering curiosity for the time being.
“I’ll be off then.
See you next time.” Nonō retracted her hand and hurried down the path toward the hospital.
Hanekawa watched her retreating figure, lost in thought.
So Tsunade is indeed active in Konoha during this exact window.
Unfortunately, he only possessed an innate talent for Yin Release, lacking any affinity for Yang Release.
His Yin Release talent stemmed from the massive surge in spiritual energy after awakening his past-life memories.
What about Yang Release?
Raw physical vitality?
Hanekawa suddenly thought of the E-Rank Robust Physique trait he was currently grinding for.
One of its future synthesis pathways might very well unlock a Yang Release affinity.
Regardless of whether it was true, it was absolutely worth a shot; after all, physical conditioning had zero downsides.
After a solid week of consistent training, the progress bar for Robust Physique had already reached 60%.
At this rate, it should officially materialize in less than a week—perhaps even sooner, given that his daily training sessions were growing progressively longer.
Hanekawa stepped into the orphanage, distributed the storybooks to the young children, and stayed to play with them for a while before saying his goodbyes.
Walking back along the bustling streets, he tried to calculate exactly when Kabuto Yakushi would arrive at the orphanage.
While the original series never specified a precise date, it definitely happened in the aftermath of the Third Shinobi World War.
A sudden wave of urgency washed over him.
World wars in the shinobi universe were exceptionally cutthroat; even the Kage themselves could fall on the battlefield.
“Hanekawa!” Kurenai’s voice echoed from directly above him.
Hanekawa looked up only to see her bare feet dangling playfully from a tree branch, looking bright and porcelain under the warm afternoon sun.
Without realizing it, his feet had already carried him back to the Yuhi residence.
Standing right outside the front gate were two trees—one was an ash tree, and the other was also an ash tree.
“What are you doing up there?” Hanekawa asked.
Kurenai quickly slipped her shoes back on and leaped down from the branch.
The moment she landed smoothly in front of him, she expectantly extended an open palm.
Hanekawa raised an eyebrow, entering a silent staring contest with the young girl.
“You went out for the entire morning and you didn’t bring back a single thing for me?” Kurenai put her hands on her hips, pouting.
“You failed the follower test!” “I don’t have any money,” Hanekawa cleared his throat, though the reality was that he had simply forgotten.
Kurenai froze.
She only just realized that Hanekawa was a war orphan with absolutely no independent source of income.
“H-Here!
Take it!” Kurenai suddenly shoved a small wallet into his hands and quickly whipped her head around, leaving him with a view of her flushed profile.
The wallet was a bright pink fabric, stitched with an adorable little bunny pattern.
Hanekawa blinked, subconsciously unzipping it to find a neat stack of pocket money sitting inside.
He suddenly felt like his stomach wasn’t cut out for hard food; the temptation to live off a wealthy benefactor was real.
But surviving on the allowance of a young loli was a bit too much emotional damage for his pride.
More importantly, Kurenai’s family wasn’t rolling in infinite wealth.
If it had been the Hyuga or Uchiha clans, he might have genuinely reconsidered.
Unfortunately, the signature Hyuga heiress hadn’t even been born yet.
And if the prominent Uchiha prodigy had been born a girl, the series probably wouldn’t have had so many tragic conflicts—half the runtime would just be romantic flashbacks.
Regardless, he definitely needed to figure out a viable way to generate some income.
“I can’t take this,” Hanekawa said, gently grabbing Kurenai’s wrist to press the pink wallet back into her palm.
“Eh?” Kurenai tilted her head, her ruby eyes blinking in sheer, dazed confusion.
Hanekawa’s heart stirred at the sight.
He instinctively reached out and patted her head.
Kurenai subconsciously tried to lean back to dodge, but she wasn’t fast enough, leaving her to do nothing but glare up at him.
“You still haven’t told me what you were doing up in that tree,” Hanekawa casually shifted the topic, retracting his hand after giving her hair a couple of affectionate rubs.
Yep, super smooth texture.
Great hand-feel.
“Oh, right!
My dad is looking for you,” Kurenai snapped out of her daze.
“Where is he?” Hanekawa stepped into the house, kicking off his sandals at the entryway.
“I’ll go grab him!” Kurenai safely tucked her wallet away and skipped off toward Shinku’s study.
Within moments, the two returned to the living room.
“Hanekawa,” Shinku cut straight to the chase.
“How far along is your mastery over basic chakra refinement?” Hanekawa stood up and smoothly executed a live demonstration.
“Excellent,” a wide smile broke across Shinku’s face.
“Your proficiency baseline is already closing in on Kurenai’s.” Hanekawa had only been practicing for a single week, whereas Kurenai had been working at it for nearly half a year.
To call his progress terrifying was an absolute understatement.
Hearing this, Kurenai let out a soft huff.
She felt slightly disgruntled, but she literally couldn’t find a single logical point to argue back.
Looking at his daughter, Shinku felt a wave of paternal affection.
He extended a hand to pat her head, but Kurenai executed a flawless back-hop, evading his touch entirely.
“Your collective chakra volumes have officially cleared the bare minimum thresholds.
We can finally begin introducing you to basic Genjutsu,” Shinku said, clearing his throat to mask the minor awkwardness.
Talk about perfect timing, Hanekawa thought, his spirit instantly rising.
He had just been wishing for a way to get stronger.
Although Genjutsu famously fell off in terms of raw relevance during the late-game stages of the original series, it was still an incredibly lethal tool against ordinary shinobi.
Kurenai’s expression turned entirely serious as well.
This training session directly concerned the future of their bet.
She absolutely refused to lose!
“Genjutsu, Taijutsu, and Ninjutsu form the primary pillars of a shinobi’s foundation, but very few individuals choose to truly specialize in Genjutsu,” Shinku said, tilting his chin up slightly with pride.
“Because the entry barrier for Genjutsu is the most grueling, it demands an exceptionally high level of innate talent.” He desperately wanted to put on an impressive display of authority in front of his daughter.
Furthermore, he wasn’t exaggerating; in the entire Leaf village, few understood the intricate mechanics of illusion better than him—with the obvious exception of the Sharingan-wielding Uchiha clan.
“Is that why you chose to specialize in Genjutsu, Shinku-ojisan?” Hanekawa asked, picking up on the man’s cue and offering a perfectly timed setup.
“Indeed I did,” Shinku beamed, thoroughly satisfied.
“Hurry up and start teaching us then,” Kurenai urged impatiently.
Right now, her sole focus was mastering Genjutsu as quickly as possible, dominating Hanekawa in their future duel, and securing her rightful title as the big sister boss.
Shinku’s smile instantly froze on his face.
Is this still my sweet, doting little girl?