CHAPTER 1: Saint of Embers
The deafening sound of her flipping through the magazine echoed in the room. She wasn't even reading the damn tabloid. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife, and her nonchalant actions felt disrespectful considering the gravity of the situation. A clacking sound of metal meeting metal filled the air.
"Finishing the ablation sequence," a tired voice announced.
"All dead tissue has been removed. Now onto the hard part." The patient's body had decayed to the point where his insides looked less human and more like a corpse.
Her hands were clammy from anxiety, though she wasn't the one wielding the chakra scalpel. The whole room was buzzing with nerves. She stole a glance at the young boy standing over the patient, his presence making her slightly dizzy. She had come a long way from freezing at the sight of blood, thanks to her disciple's relentless "exposure therapy," though she despised every moment of it.
"Initiating the Tenketsu Connection Sequencing."
She couldn't fathom where his unease from the previous day had vanished to. Now he spoke with serenity and authority, as if teaching a class rather than performing a once-in-a-lifetime miracle.
"Connecting to the first eight major tenketsu points," his voice steady and composed. She couldn't help but marvel at his technique, which he had managed to develop. She understood the intention, methodology, and purpose, but the level of skill and chakra control required seemed unfathomable. After all, this was supposed to be her area of expertise; she had practically invented medical laws.
"On to the next eight tenketsu points." Watching her disciple defy logic and perform the technique with such ease felt both awe-inspiring and humbling. A warm sensation of pride and happiness swelled in her chest. She grinned at the visibly nervous Shizune, her other disciple. "Sit down before you faint, Shizune," she chastised, rolling her eyes playfully.
"And miss even a second of this one-of-a-kind procedure? Lady Tsunade, how could I?" Shizune replied, fixated on the remarkable display unfolding before them.
"32 tenketsu points are now connected. Proceeding with the final batch."
The tension in the room intensified as they entered the most challenging and crucial step. It was a make-or-break moment.
She stole another glance at the patient lying on the table, his body deteriorated by Chakra Erosion Syndrome (CES). It was believed to be a terminal disease, with a 0% chance of survival. Yet the boy she had met less than a decade ago had managed to devise a treatment, a cure for this incurable ailment.
She sneered at herself inwardly. Of course, the boy who had brought sunlight to her dark and wintry life would be the one to achieve the impossible. Like the sun that never ceased to rise, he brought salvation wherever he went.
Her eyes met the boy's, and he smiled gently despite the exhaustion etched on his face. She fought back tears of joy, overwhelmed by the difference between trusting her disciple's abilities and witnessing his triumph against all odds.
"Initializing the final procedure. Tenketsu Resuscitation Technique."
Gasps resounded across the room as his chakra surged to life, accompanied by occasional sparks that jolted the connected 64 tenketsu points. The technique aimed to heal and deliver an electric current to jump-start the eroded chakra points simultaneously. Its complexity was mind-boggling, even as she watched it unfold before her own eyes.
She could sense it—a tiny flame flickering amidst a blizzard. It fought against the overwhelming forces of nature, but it steadily gained strength. The room fell silent, countless pairs of eyes fixed on the young prodigy.
A gasp escaped her lips involuntarily, and she covered her mouth, not wanting to interrupt his intense focus. "It's growing!" she wanted to exclaim. Soon, others would notice too. The patient, who was practically devoid of any detectable chakra, was now ablaze with renewed energy. His organs, once ravaged by decay, were being revitalized.
Memories flooded her mind. A child, weary and barely conscious, clinging to survival after vanquishing his assailants. She had taken him in because his chakra felt like family, never imagining that he would blossom into the towering tree before her. Biting her lip to stifle her overwhelming emotions, she reminisced about their journey together.
The boy closed his eyes and withdrew his arms from the patient. "Procedure is successful. His tenketsu has restarted," he declared wearily.
She released a sigh of relief, audible in the room. The title bestowed upon him by the Fire Daimyo, the one he found too "cringe," had proven fitting. She chuckled softly, remembering the look on his face when he first heard it. The boy who had brought sunlight to her life had once again delivered miraculous healing.
"I will now close the patient," he added. Cheers, laughter, and even tears erupted from the gallery. The boy raised an eyebrow in protest, not finished with his work. But who could blame them? They had all just witnessed a goddamn miracle and a groundbreaking medical breakthrough.
The "Saint of Embers" had struck again.
He was certain that this would be his final moment. With a heavy sigh, he collapsed onto the oversized couch. At least he would die in this grand room, befitting of the best suite in the Land of Fire's most luxurious hotel. Tomorrow, Shizune would have to inform the nobles that he had passed away, drenched in sweat and possibly the bodily fluids of his earlier patient, peacefully resting face down on this unbelievably comfy couch. For a moment, he felt a pang of guilt, thinking about how the hotel's reputation might suffer due to a death occurring in this room. But in his current predicament, he couldn't help it, could he?
The door creaked open, accompanied by a loud sigh. "Get a shower first, then sleep. Don't dirty the couch; I'm not paying an additional charge to have it cleaned," his stern and unsympathetic teacher ordered. It seemed even in death he couldn't catch a break. He sniffled, considering her cruelty. "This is child abuse! I'm still clearly a minor!" his voice muffled by the couch.
"Don't be a drama queen," he could practically feel her eye roll from across the room. "What do you think they'll say when they learn that the 'Saint of Embers' is just a couch potato when he's off work, huh? Have you no shame?"
His growl erupted in response, "I never asked for that stupid title," he grumbled with furrowed brows. "Why can't the Daimyo just pay me, shut up, and send me on my way?" Despair laced his words. His teacher chuckled. "That's treason, you know?" she said, amusement dancing in her eyes.
He glared at her, the anger welling up within him. "Sue me," he challenged, earning a boisterous laugh in response. "Nah, the Daimyo will probably just pardon you. Before forcing you into a marriage with one of his of-age cousins," she snickered, reveling in his utter despair. And she dares call herself his teacher. The nerve.
"I'm not giving you any money this month." A sudden loud banging followed her declaration. "And I'm not paying for any damages you cause to the hotel's furniture".
"Now that you're famous and rich, you're just going to forget your own teacher, huh? Damn ungrateful bastard" her voice seethed with rage in response.
"Gambler Hag—" He deftly dodged a cup thrown in his direction. Though he was a medic-nin, he had inherited all of her skills as a disciple of the legendary Sannin. "What will the Daimyo say when he finds out that my own teacher bloody killed me?!" he dramatically exclaimed.
She rolled her eyes. "I'm THE best medic ninja—", "Non-active," he interjected rudely, earning a burning glare in return. "I can come up with a hundred ways to dispose of your corpse without ever getting caught."
Silence followed her threat. She noticed his breathing had evened out. Realizing he had fallen asleep, she audibly exhaled, understanding the feeling all too well. It felt like only yesterday when she had to take cover amidst the chaos of war to salvage her patients. Being a medic-nin was a relentless, soul-crushing job.
Observing his pale face, partially covered by disheveled platinum blonde hair that was starting to grow slightly long, she couldn't help but notice his vulnerability as he slept. Yet, she also knew that if any foreign person were to touch him, he would instinctively maul the poor guy without breaking a sweat. A proud grin tugged at her lips at the thought.
Her disciple had absorbed her teachings like a fish in water. At times, even she, one of the legendary Sannin and the granddaughter of the First Hokage, felt a tinge of jealousy. Lives could have been saved if she had been as skilled as him. She shook off that thought, no longer as shackled to her past as she had been when she first met him.
This stubborn, annoying student of hers had tried relentlessly to help her. Even when she pushed him away, he patiently bided his time before making another attempt. After years of no progress, he had 'woke up and chose violence,' as he called it. She didn't even want to recall the insane ways he had tried to aid her. She was 80% certain that her hemophilia had abated out of sheer annoyance, finally having had enough of his tireless and bloody efforts.
Carrying his small twelve-year-old body, her dainty fingers gently cradling him, she brought him to his room and tucked him in. A genuine, warm smile bloomed on her face—a rare occurrence after losing so much decades ago. She planted a brief kiss on his forehead. The thought of him leaving her for Konoha had always crushed her.
But she knew this was the path he had chosen. He had achieved more than most in his career, and now she hoped he would continue to grow as a person. To make friends his age, and maybe even fall in love. Scratch that—she couldn't bear the thought of his precious student being tempted by a bunch of hooligans. Determination sparked within her as she clenched her fist. Blood would be spilled; she vowed it.
She could never adequately express how grateful she was for his mere existence. Not that she needed to. "Because we're family," his words echoed in the back of her mind, never failing to bring a smile to her face. She knew that more often than not, she was unreasonable and far from easy to be with. Yet, he persisted, like a regenerating tumor. But instead of taking, he gave. He filled her hollow chest with so much light that breathing no longer felt as exhausting, and living less painful.
She couldn't say no to him. So, she would let him return to the snake's den. But she would be damned if she allowed the village that had taken everything from her to touch the last meaningful light in her life. Her teacher had better be prepared for the storm that was about to descend because the Slug Princess is heading back.