Following the Second Great Ninja War, the Senju Clan had suffered a devastating blow. Once hailed as one of the strongest and most respected clans in the entire Ninja World, they now stood as a shadow of their former glory.
The cruelty of war had left deep scars, both on the land and in the hearts of its people. Many proud warriors had fallen on the battlefield, and the once-flourishing clan, known for its deep history and unparalleled bloodline, now had only a handful of members left. What was once a vibrant stronghold of strength and unity had become a quiet, lonely estate full of silence and ghosts of the past.
The Senju Clan had a legacy that spanned over a thousand years. With legends such as Senju Hashirama, the First Hokage, leading its name to glory, their power had once seemed invincible. At their peak, they had stood atop the ninja world, their strength admired, feared, and respected.
But now…
That legacy seemed buried in dust and memories.
---
"I didn't expect you to actually show up."
A voice, full of sarcasm and disdain, floated through the courtyard.
It belonged to Tsunade, who had quietly reappeared—no longer in the disheveled nightwear from earlier.
At some point, she had changed into a new outfit, one unlike her usual attire. It wasn't her formal ninja uniform, nor was it a casual kimono. Instead, it was something elegant yet practical—a blend of function and femininity.
A soft, light-yellow dress hugged her curves gently, making her tall figure even more graceful. Her long hair was neatly tied back, and her bare arms and legs shimmered faintly in the sunlight. The outfit brought out a freshness to her look, like a lotus blooming silently from a still pond.
If someone had seen her now without knowing her past behavior, they would have assumed she was the picture of noble grace. Her face, though not yet in its prime, was already breathtakingly beautiful. Her movements carried a quiet confidence, and her expression, despite its irritation, was captivating.
Jaxon, standing in the center of the courtyard, looked up with interest.
"Since I presented my visiting card yesterday, it's only natural to visit today," he replied politely, his eyes scanning her up and down without shame. A soft smile formed on his lips. "You really are a sight for sore eyes today."
"You—!"
Tsunade's eyes narrowed, but before she could respond, another voice interrupted from above.
"Hey, hey, hey! Is that really Tsunade?!"
The voice was loud and incredulous. Jaxon looked up to see a man standing on the tiled rooftop, eyes wide, mouth agape—and a familiar mischievous glint in his expression.
Jiraiya.
Beside him stood another familiar face, one more subdued and composed, yet no less dangerous.
Orochimaru.
Jiraiya's jaw had nearly dropped. His mouth hung open, and a thin stream of drool had begun to form at the corner of his lips.
"Wow! You look amazing today, Tsunade! Unbelievable!" he exclaimed, barely able to control himself.
Even Orochimaru, who was rarely impressed by appearances, allowed a thin smile to curl at the edge of his pale lips.
"Surprising indeed," Orochimaru said, his voice cool and refined. "But quite pleasing to the eye."
Tsunade's composed expression cracked. Her brows twitched, and a deep blush spread across her cheeks. She clenched her fists, glaring at the two like a tiger cornered in its den.
"What the hell are you two doing here!?" she snapped, her voice filled with a mix of anger and embarrassment.
Jiraiya raised his hands defensively. "Relax, we heard that the Senju Clan was receiving guests today. Sensei told us to drop by and have a look."
Jaxon watched the scene with quiet amusement. After the confrontation the night before, he had expected Hiruzen Sarutobi to take action. It was typical of the Hokage to handle delicate matters indirectly—he wouldn't appear in person, but would send his students to investigate and gather information.
"Enough already!" Tsunade barked. "Since you're here, come in!"
She turned around, hoping to hurry them inside and regain some dignity. Having both her childhood friends see her dressed like this had her cheeks burning with secondhand shame. She just wanted to slip away, change clothes again, and pretend this whole thing never happened.
But fate, as always, had other plans.
Jiraiya, the eternal pervert, leapt down from the rooftop and landed behind her with silent steps. A mischievous smile played on his lips, and his hands were already rubbing together with excitement.
"Tsunade," he whispered, edging closer like a wolf, "you look really beautiful today!"
Tsunade turned her head slowly, and when she caught sight of the white-haired man's lecherous face—complete with his ogling eyes and open mouth—her entire expression darkened.
At first, she smiled sweetly. It was the kind of smile that made Jiraiya's heart skip a beat.
Then—
BANG!
With a single blow, Jiraiya was sent flying like a ragdoll, soaring through the air and crashing straight through the courtyard wall. The explosion of impact echoed through the compound like a thunderclap.
Dust rose in the air.
"That bastard…" Tsunade muttered, brushing off her hand with a huff.
Orochimaru, still standing calmly to the side, had watched the entire thing unfold with complete detachment. He didn't flinch, didn't speak. He simply observed.
He knew Jiraiya well enough to know he wouldn't die from something like that. At worst, he'd be bedridden for a few days—and maybe learn a lesson (though probably not).
---
Jaxon chuckled softly. "White."
The word slipped from his lips without much thought, but the moment it did, the atmosphere shifted drastically.
Tsunade's entire body froze. Her expression, which had just calmed down, changed again—only this time, it wasn't embarrassment or anger.
It was something far colder.
Her shoulders tensed. Her eyes narrowed sharply, locking onto the small boy in front of her like a hawk preparing to dive for the kill.
That one word—white—had pierced her like a blade.
Her soft brown eyes now burned with a mixture of rage and sorrow. They were filled with something indescribable, something deeply personal and painful.
Her entire presence changed. No longer was she the bashful woman caught in a moment of awkwardness. She now stood tall and terrifying, a kunoichi forged in war and tragedy.
Her glare could have frozen fire.
And yet, Jaxon didn't retreat.
The three-year-old boy straightened his tiny back and looked up at her with calm, unflinching eyes. A faint smile curled at the corners of his lips, not mockingly, but with a strange kind of innocence.
He didn't apologize.
He didn't blink.
Just when the tension reached its peak, Jaxon suddenly tilted his head and smiled pleasantly. His voice turned light as he casually turned to Orochimaru and greeted, "It's been a long time, Mr. Orochimaru."
Orochimaru, watching all of this with deep amusement, responded with a faint smile of his own. "Jaxon-kun… It has indeed been a while."
His voice was soft and slow, but it carried an eerie kind of calm that contrasted sharply with Tsunade's intensity.
Orochimaru rarely showed strong emotions. His every movement, every word, felt controlled, distant—as if he were watching the world through a glass window.
Despite being one of the most brilliant minds of his generation, Orochimaru's presence often made people uneasy. He was like a beautiful, poisonous flower—fascinating from afar, but dangerous to touch.
He was a genius who had never truly fit in.
An enigma within the Leaf Village.
And though he smiled, it never quite reached his eyes.
---
Tsunade, meanwhile, was still staring at Jaxon, her eyes filled with complex emotion. She wanted to say something—no, she needed to—but her voice caught in her throat.
That word… white…
Why had he said it? How did he know?
Who was this child?
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