The hospital's sterile corridors smelled of antiseptic and herbs. Hanekawa followed Yakushi Nonō through the familiar passages, trying to look appropriately awed for a six-year-old meeting one of the Legendary Sannin.

  "Whose beautiful child is this?" Tsunade's voice carried from the office before they even entered. She sat behind a desk scattered with medical charts, a sake bottle conspicuously absent for once.

  Nonō smiled softly. "This is Hanekawa. He's from the orphanage, and he wanted to meet you."

  Tsunade raised an eyebrow, studying him with the clinical gaze of someone used to assessing people at a glance. "Hanekawa? Isn't that the child who defeated Asuma Sarutobi?"

  Word travels fast. Hanekawa kept his expression modest. "I got lucky."

  "Luck." Tsunade's lips curved into an amused smile. "Is that what we're calling it?" She stood, stretching with the casual confidence of someone who'd never doubted her own strength. "Well, I'm glad Hiruzen snatched you away from Danzo. The boy clearly has potential."

  Nonō's hand settled on his head. "Hanekawa admires you greatly. He wanted to meet his hero."

  "My fan?" Tsunade's expression shifted to something between amusement and skepticism. "You're a genjutsu user. Why would a genjutsu specialist admire a medical ninja?"

  This was the moment. Hanekawa had rehearsed it carefully.

  "Because medical ninjas save lives," he said simply. "I think that's the most important thing a ninja can do."

  For a moment, Tsunade went very still. Then she sighed—a long, weary sound that seemed to carry years of weight.

  "Studying medicine can't save the ninja world, kid," she said quietly.

  Oh, come on. That's literally the most depressing thing you could say right now. Hanekawa kept his face earnest. "But it can save people."

  Tsunade studied him for another moment, then shook her head. "Anything else you wanted to say?"

  "No, ma'am."

  "Then I should get back to my rounds." She moved toward the door, then paused. "See you around, Hanekawa."

  After she left, Hanekawa turned to Nonō. "Does Lady Tsunade perform surgery often?"

  "Frequently," Nonō replied, already moving back toward her office. "Though she refuses minor cases. She only takes the critical ones."

  No hemophobia. That was significant. In the original timeline, Tsunade's fear of blood had developed after Kato Dan's death. But that tragedy hadn't happened here—the timeline had already diverged. Hanekawa filed that away as important.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "Director, would you teach me medical ninjutsu?" he asked.

  Nonō stopped, turning back with surprise written across her face. "Medical ninjutsu? You're still young. Shouldn't you focus on perfecting your genjutsu?"

  "Genjutsu doesn't require much energy," Hanekawa said. "I can learn three new illusions in a day without difficulty."

  Nonō's eyes widened. "Three in one day? Hanekawa, that's—"

  "Exceptional, I know." He kept his tone matter-of-fact. "So I have room to study other things."

  She studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Medical ninjutsu is far more complex than illusion techniques. Before you can begin, you'll need substantial foundational knowledge." She moved to a shelf and withdrew a thick scroll. "This is a reading list. A comprehensive one."

  Hanekawa unrolled it eagerly, scanning the contents. His enthusiasm died a quick death.

  It was a list. Just a list. Pages and pages of book titles.

  "This is..." he began carefully.

  "The basic texts you'll need to study," Nonō finished, a hint of amusement in her voice. "You can read them here at the hospital, or I can lend you a few to take home. But there's no shortcut to medical knowledge, Hanekawa. It requires dedication."

  Studying medicine won't save the ninja world, Tsunade's words echoed in his mind.

  He was beginning to understand why.

  "Thank you, Director," he said, accepting two of the thinner volumes. "I'll start right away."

  ---

  The training ground was moderately busy when Hanekawa arrived. He'd chosen the fourth ground deliberately—less crowded than the main areas, but not so isolated that he'd draw attention.

  He was about to begin his running routine when he spotted a familiar white-haired figure sparring with a younger boy. Hatake Sakumo. The White Fang of Konoha.

  Interesting timing.

  Hanekawa had read about Sakumo in the orphanage's limited records. The man was a legend—his reputation rivaled even the Sannin, and he was feared throughout the ninja world. In a few years, he'd be dead by his own hand, but right now, he was at the height of his power.

  More importantly, he was one of the few people in Konoha who genuinely didn't fear Danzo.

  Hanekawa kept to the perimeter and began his run, maintaining a steady pace. The medical books felt heavy in his pack, a physical reminder of the commitment he'd just made.

  Three years of reading, he calculated grimly. Minimum.

  But it was necessary. Tsunade was his best option for protection and advancement. She had the power to stand against Danzo, the status to protect him, and—most importantly—she was currently unattached. No students, no close relationships that might complicate things.

  All he had to do was prove himself worthy of her attention.

  The books would help. His talent would help more. But what he really needed was to survive long enough for both to matter.

  Hanekawa pushed himself faster, feeling his legs burn pleasantly. The Ability System notification flickered at the edge of his awareness:

  [E-Rank Talent Entry: Swift Steps]

  [Current Progress: 30%]

  Just keep running, he thought. Keep getting stronger. Keep making the right moves.

  And maybe, eventually, you'll actually survive this place.

  Behind him, Hatake Sakumo's blade sang through the air, teaching his young son the fundamentals of swordsmanship. The White Fang had no idea that a six-year-old orphan was already calculating how to survive the political machinations that would eventually destroy him.

  But that was fine. Hanekawa had learned long ago that the best survival strategy was being underestimated.

  He ran on, the hospital books a weight on his back and a promise for the future.