The seasons in Tanzaku Town were never sharply defined, but the icicles hanging from the eaves eventually gave way to climbing wisteria, and the wisteria, in turn, gave way to the raucous cries of cicadas.
When the autumn wind scattered the cicadas’ song, the lanterns lining the gambling street took on a melancholy warm yellow.
Then one morning, upon opening the window, a thin layer of snow could be seen covering the peak of Mount Tanzaku.
Winter passed, spring returned, and just like that, a year went by.
Kaguya Shiro, or rather, Yamada Souji, stood in the back courtyard of the pharmacy at Number Seven South Street, slowly spreading his hands.
With his palms facing upward, pale bone could be seen flowing beneath his skin, but the movement was gentle and completely under his control, no longer carrying the sharp, restless agitation it once had.
With a slight thought, a bone blade smoothly protruded from his right forearm.
About half a foot long, its edge was as sharp as a knife, reflecting a smooth, porcelain-like cold sheen beneath the winter sun.
The bone blade did not retract.
His left hand picked up the specially prepared medicinal powder from the stone table and evenly sprinkled it over the exposed bone.
As soon as the powder came into contact with the bone, a faint sizzling sound emerged, as though it were being absorbed.
The bone surface immediately became even more lustrous.
Then he clenched his right fist and gave it a sharp shake.
Crack!
The section of ulna snapped cleanly off at its base and dropped onto the tray lined with white cloth, the fracture perfectly smooth.
Almost simultaneously, beneath the skin of his forearm, new bone began growing and reshaping itself at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Within only a few breaths, it had completely regenerated, leaving behind nothing more than a faint mark that rapidly healed.
“It seems you’ve completely mastered it.” A lazy voice came from behind him.
Tsunade leaned against a veranda pillar with her arms folded, her blonde hair appearing somewhat dim beneath the thin afternoon sunlight.
She wore a thick brown haori with the character “Gamble” embroidered across the back.
Her face still carried the languid look of someone who had just recovered from a hangover, yet her eyes remained remarkably bright.
“Yes.” Shiro turned around and bowed respectfully.
“I have Tsunade-sama and Shizune-san to thank for this.” “Don’t thank me.
I didn’t do anything.” Tsunade waved dismissively before walking over to the stone table.
Picking up the broken bone fragment, she ran a finger across the fracture surface.
“The bone marrow looks healthy, and the regeneration speed has stabilized within the safe threshold.
That girl Shizune did well this time.” She spoke lightly, but Shiro knew that throughout the past year, it had all been possible thanks to the silent support of this legendary medic.
Every medicinal preparation, every piece of bone activity test data, and even the core idea behind the curative treatment, removing bones outside the body, isolating them with medicinal powder, and inducing safe regeneration, had all been guided by Tsunade’s seemingly casual advice that cleared the way forward.
She simply hadn’t done the work herself.
But she had never once stopped watching over the entire process.
Just then, Shizune trotted out from the house with a record book in her hands, the tip of her nose red from the cold.
“Souji-kun!
The latest bone metabolism data looks excellent.
It’s another 0.3 seconds faster than last week.
Also, the absorption rate of the medicinal powder…” She continued rattling off professional medical terminology, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
For her, this past year had been the most fulfilling and challenging period of her medical career.
A terminal illness that should have been incurable had gradually been forced open into a path toward survival under her care.
Although her teacher had guided her from behind the scenes, the sense of accomplishment was far beyond anything that came from treating ordinary patients.
Off to the side, Tsunade simply listened, occasionally responding with a quiet hum while her gaze drifted toward the leafless cherry tree standing in the corner of the courtyard.
Over the past year, the kid had indeed behaved himself.
Aside from eating, sleeping, cooperating with his treatment, and burying himself in training, he was practically a tireless machine.
Oh, right.
There was also his business.
Yamada Pharmacy had expanded into a commercial enterprise occupying half the street.
She had also seen him practicing the Shikotsumyaku several times in the wasteland outside town.
Its destructive power was tremendous, yet his control over it was astonishingly precise.
“The root of the Kekkei Genkai disease lies in the contamination of cellular memory and the toxins accumulated from excessively generating and recycling bone.” “The Kaguya Clan treats its bones as weapons.
They use them, retract them, then use them again.
The accumulated errors continue to build until the entire body’s entire system eventually collapses.” “The true cure is to replace them all at once.
Once a bone leaves your body, treat it as discarded waste.
Your body must become accustomed to creating brand-new bones instead of recycling old garbage.” “Never forget that.” With that, Tsunade casually tossed the bone blade onto the table and swept out of the courtyard.
…
“So today is the last day?” In the pharmacy’s front hall, Shiro poured hot tea for the two women.
Tsunade sat cross-legged beside the brazier, casually grabbing a handful of pastries from the table, while Shizune sat properly in seiza with Tonton in her lap.
The little pig had grown noticeably chubbier than before.
“Yes!” Shizune nodded, placing Tonton on a nearby cushion before taking a thick stack of papers from her storage scroll.
“These are the complete treatment records, the follow-up observation guidelines, and the full formulas for Bone-Suppressing Powder and Marrow-Nourishing Decoction.” “Curing the Kekkei Genkai disease doesn’t mean it can never return.” “Especially if you suffer severe injuries.
Your body’s instincts will frantically regenerate bone, and that’s when the old disease is most likely to resurface.” “Take these medicines on schedule.
They’ll suppress it as much as possible.” She then carefully went over several precautions, including seasonal dosage adjustments, incompatible foods, and even how to use chakra to regulate the bone pathways during periods of intense emotional fluctuations…
She overlooked nothing, just like a truly responsible physician giving discharge instructions to a patient.
“Shizune-san, I will never forget your kindness.” Shiro bowed politely.
Shizune immediately blushed and waved both hands.
“It’s because Souji-kun cooperated so well…” “That’s enough.
Let’s skip the pleasantries.” Tsunade swallowed another pastry, brushed the crumbs from her hands, and stood up.
“You’ve got everything you need, and you’ve heard the medical instructions.
We’re even now.” “Shizune, let’s go.
The ship bound for the Land of Lightning departs this evening.” Shiro rose as well.
After a brief hesitation, he finally spoke.
“Tsunade-sama, please wait.” “Hm?” “I have one more request.” His voice was clear, and his tone sincere.
“Would you be willing to accept me as your disciple and teach me medical ninjutsu?” The front hall fell silent.
Only the crackling of the brazier could be heard.
Tsunade turned around, her face expressionless.
“And your reason?” “Although the bloodline disease has been cured, this treatment was pioneered by you and Shizune-san.” “I wish to study medical ninjutsu more deeply.
First, to further strengthen my own condition and prevent the disease from returning.” “Second, there are countless people in this world suffering from illness.
If I can use what I learn to help the people of the Land of Fire, perhaps I can repay a small part of your kindness.” It was a beautifully crafted answer.
Tsunade laughed, a hint of amusement appearing on her face.
“Kid, you’re getting better and better at telling lies with a straight face.” She took two steps forward, her oppressive presence immediately intensifying.
“You really do want to learn medical ninjutsu.” “But helping the people of the Land of Fire?
Spare me.” “You’re from the Land of Water.” “What you’re really after is the combat potential of medical ninjutsu, isn’t it?” “Chakra control precise enough to manipulate cells.
Instant hemostasis, rapid regeneration, even altering the condition of your own body.” “For a taijutsu specialist who relies on his body for everything, that’s simply too tempting.” Shiro remained silent.
He offered no denial.
“I don’t take disciples anymore.” Tsunade’s refusal was absolute.
“Taking Shizune as my student was already an exception.” “You?” “A surviving member of the Kaguya Clan, with an uncertain background and surrounded by problems I can’t even begin to understand.” “If I taught you medical ninjutsu, who knows what even stranger things you’d end up doing with it?” Her words were brutally straightforward.
Shiro looked directly into her eyes.
“Not even a single chance?” “No.” Tsunade turned decisively and waved her hand.
“Give up on that idea.” “The maintenance techniques Shizune taught you are enough to last you a lifetime.” “Don’t be greedy.” Before her words had even finished, she strode toward the exit, the hem of her haori cutting through the air.
Shizune cast an apologetic glance at Shiro, then hurriedly gathered Tonton and her luggage before following after her.
At the doorway, Tsunade paused.
Without turning around, her voice drifted back.
“Staying in Tanzaku Town for too long gets boring.” “You’re cured now.” “Go do whatever you need to do.” “Don’t keep yourself hidden away in one place.” With that, the two figures disappeared completely into the bustling streets outside.
Yamada Souji stood where he was, listening as their footsteps gradually faded into the distance.
Only after he could no longer hear them did he slowly sit back down beside the brazier, pick up the now-lukewarm teacup, and take a sip.
His attempt to become Tsunade’s disciple had failed.
However, it had been within his expectations.
He set the teacup down, his fingers unconsciously tracing across the surface of the table.
Outside the window, Tanzaku Town’s afternoon remained as noisy as ever.
The shouts of gamblers drifted faintly through the air.
A year had passed.
This fortress built from money and desire had, without him realizing it, gradually begun to feel like a temporary refuge that had become tiresome.
It was time to make a move.