Yakushi Nonō froze where she stood, too stunned to even react when Natsume was injured again.

  There were countless kekkei genkai in the shinobi world. No matter which one awakened, she wouldn’t be surprised.

  But Mokuton was different.

  The First Hokage, Senju Hashirama, had conquered the entire shinobi world with Mokuton, ushering in a new era of peace.

  The "wood" in Konoha’s name was no coincidence—it was a tribute to Mokuton.

  Unfortunately, ever since Senju Hashirama’s death, no one had been able to use it.

  Not even within the Senju Cn.

  What Yakushi Nonō didn’t expect… was to witness Mokuton with her own eyes today.

  “Director?” Natsume called out.

  “Have you told anyone else about this?” Nonō asked after taking a deep breath, extending her hand to heal his fresh wound.

  She wasn’t some na?ve idealist.

  Before becoming the director of this orphanage, she was a top intelligence operative in Konoha. Her skills had caught even Danzo Shimura’s eye—he’d forcibly recruited her into Root.

  Which was exactly why she understood what the appearance of Mokuton truly meant.

  “You’re the first person I told,” Natsume replied, watching her expression closely, letting out a breath of relief.

  As expected.

  After three years together, they were practically mother and son.

  Yakushi Nonō would never hand him over to Danzo.

  She had no loyalty left in her.

  That, too, was why Danzo ter tried to have her eliminated.

  She knew too much, and she wasn't loyal enough.

  “Good.”

  Nonō gently patted Natsume’s hair, her brows furrowed, clearly torn.

  Keeping this secret wouldn’t st forever.

  And to possess the gift of Mokuton but not use it? That would be a monumental waste.

  If Danzo got wind of this, Natsume would stop being a person. He’d become a cold, unfeeling tool.

  So should she report it directly to the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi?

  A whirlwind of thoughts raced through her mind.

  Sensing the moment, Natsume spoke up, “Director, what kind of ninjutsu was that?”

  “Mokuton. A technique once used by the First Hokage himself.”

  Nonō didn’t hold back. “For you to possess it… it likely means one of your ancestors married into the Senju cn.”

  The Senju, before founding Konoha, had been a massive and powerful shinobi cn.

  But due to Hashirama’s ideals, they dissolved their strict intermarriage policies and spread throughout the vilge, blending in.

  By now, they were essentially extinct.

  The only Senju left publicly known… was Tsunade.

  “Mokuton? Seriously?” Natsume widened his eyes in perfect surprise. Then, as if a spark lit up within him, he asked excitedly, “Director, do you know any members of the Senju cn? If I can find out which ancestor it was, maybe I can learn who my parents were!”

  Nonō hesitated at that.

  Natsume was a war orphan. Still young, and his trauma had left him with serious memory loss.

  But what he said… it might actually be a way to trace his lineage.

  More importantly, he just reminded her of someone far more suitable than Hiruzen.

  Tsunade.

  The st of the Senju.

  And Nonō knew her well enough to trust that she’d never mistreat Natsume.

  “I’ll take care of it,” she said at st.

  Opening the wardrobe, she pulled out a fresh change of clothes. “Go take a shower. Get some rest.”

  “Got it.” Natsume took the clothes with a sweet, obedient smile.

  He’d done all he could for now.

  The rest was up to Nonō.

  If that didn’t work… he could always go act out a little show for Hiruzen, the old geezer.

  Judging by how Yamato turned out ter, that path wouldn’t be so bad either.

  As long as he dispyed the Will of Fire.

  And that kind of thing? He was great at faking.

  It was just some half-baked ideological mumbo-jumbo anyway.

  Honestly, he was pretty confident he could flip the script and start bullshitting Hiruzen instead.

  Another week passed.

  In a quiet corner of the orphanage...

  “Happy birthday, Natsume.”

  Kabuto handed him a small cake.

  The tables had turned.

  Natsume took it with a grin.

  Their birthdays were only a week apart—kind of a funny coincidence.

  “Natsume, got a birthday wish? Or something you want to do in the future?” Kabuto asked curiously.

  After three years together, he still found Natsume to be a bit of an enigma.

  Especially st year—when Natsume suddenly pulled him aside and solemnly warned: “Never reveal your medical talent. If you do, disaster will come. Not just for you, but for the director too.”

  The words sounded like some kind of prophecy.

  Kabuto had been completely bewildered.

  But out of trust—and a strange, gut-level instinct—he’d taken the warning to heart, disguising his incredible medical skills as average at best.

  “What I want to do, huh…”

  Natsume rubbed his chin, thought for a moment, then waved his hand dramatically. “I’m gonna be the man who becomes Hokage.”

  He meant the Fifth Hokage—Tsunade.

  If you’re gonna shoot your shot, might as well aim high.

  Sure, some people might say she was too old.

  But come on—she was gorgeous.

  And when it came to beauty, age didn’t matter. Hell, not even species mattered.

  Right, Xu Xian?

  “Hokage, huh?” Kabuto wasn’t surprised.

  Thanks to Hiruzen Sarutobi’s PR genius, the Third had been painted as the ultimate hero in every child’s heart.

  Becoming Hokage was pretty much every kid’s dream.

  Just like in their past lives, when kids said they wanted to be astronauts or scientists.

  Only when they grew up would they realize how cruel reality could be.

  “Yep! Hokage!” Natsume wolfed down the cake, threw an arm around Kabuto’s shoulders. “When that day comes, I’ll be Hokage, and you’ll be my advisor. We’ll take Konoha to new heights!”

  If he weren’t worried about scaring Kabuto off, he’d have added another line:

  I ugh at Hiruzen for being witless, mock Danzo for being clueless. In this world, the true heroes are you and me.

  There was a reason he was saying all this.

  Kabuto had limitless potential. Recruiting him early was a surefire win.

  He could fight, he could heal, he could support. No way he was letting this rare gem slip away.

  “Deal!” Kabuto, still just a naive little kid not yet shaped by Orochimaru’s training, was easily fired up by Natsume’s speech. “You got it!”

  “Natsume!”

  Yakushi Nonō’s voice rang out.

  Natsume flinched.

  Oh crap. If she’d heard his little chunibyo speech, his social life was over.

  He spun around—only to freeze in pce.

  Standing beside Nonō was another woman.

  Wearing a tea-green coat, long blonde hair flowing smoothly down her back, a mature and alluring aura radiated off her. Her pear-shaped figure was jaw-droppingly voluptuous.

  There’s a saying in his past life: real men love women with curves.

  And this woman… she was the definition of peak curvy.

  Those thick thighs alone—imagine them wrapped in bck or white stockings? Absolutely deadly.

  Natsume looked up—and met a pair of bright brown eyes, sparkling with amusement.

  “Lady Tsunade, please don’t take what the kid said too seriously,” Nonō quickly expined. “He’s just a child—he didn’t mean it.”

  “It’s fine,” Tsunade replied, withdrawing her gaze. “So this is Natsume? Not bad. Kind of cute.”

  Nonō exhaled in relief. “Yes. That boy at the front is the one I mentioned to you.”

  Tsunade nodded slightly, then walked up to him. “So, you want to be Hokage?”

  Natsume fshed a bright, easygoing smile. “Because I want to protect everyone.”

  It was a textbook answer, complete with a picture-perfect fake smile.

  He knew exactly what kind of impact it would have on Tsunade.

  “Why?”

  Tsunade paused for a moment, her tone suddenly strange. “People who want to be Hokage are all fools. Willing to throw their lives away for others.”

  “I’ve seen war. That’s why I don’t want war to happen again,” Natsume replied with sincerity. “If I become Hokage, I can stop wars and bring peace to everyone.”

  He didn’t actually believe that nonsense.

  His real goal right now was just survival.

  Tsunade froze, memories flooding back of her younger brother, Nawaki—who used to say those exact same things.

  He died in war anyway.

  “You’re just a brat, but you’ve got a big mouth,” Tsunade said with a light chuckle, reaching out and ruffling his hair.

  Natsume was speechless.

  Did she not know the one thing men hate most… is being called small?

  Just you wait. One day, he’d show her what big really meant.

  Tsunade shook off the flicker of emotion in her eyes. “Show me your Mokuton.”

  Natsume held out his hand. Several thorny vines sprouted from the ground in response.

  He didn’t actually know how to use Mokuton yet—it was all instinct.

  Thankfully, Nonō had taught him how to extract chakra.

  Otherwise, he wouldn’t have even known how to perform a demonstration.

  Tsunade’s expression turned serious.

  It was real.

  She’d grown up alongside her grandfather, Senju Hashirama. No one knew Mokuton better than her.

  What Natsume just used… wasn’t a genjutsu.

  And it definitely wasn’t some cheap imitation.