"Don't give me that nonsense. Tomorrow, you'll accompany Tsunade properly—and make sure to tell me the moment you hear any news."
Sakumo sighed. Since he couldn't stop it, he could only support it.
"I promise to complete the mission."
Kawakaze raised two fingers of his right hand and gestured at his temple. This fashionable action left Sakumo momentarily stunned. This kid had been using these strange hand gestures since he was little.
"Stop clowning around. Remember tomorrow," Sakumo said firmly.
Nayuki added a reassuring comment, knowing that Sakumo would remain uneasy until he learned the results tomorrow.
"Don't worry, sister-in-law, I'll remind Kawakaze," Tsunade said confidently. It was evident that she wasn't particularly afraid of tomorrow's experiment.
"I'm relieved to hear you say that," Nayuki replied, easing the tense atmosphere. She discreetly nudged Sakumo with her hand. His silent demeanor gave him a frightening air.
"You guys chat. I'll go to the ancestral hall for a while," Sakumo said as he got up. He didn't feel like chatting anymore and felt more at ease going to the ancestral hall.
"Big brother, I'll go with you," Kawakaze said, surprising everyone by following him.
The ancestral hall was a place Kawakaze rarely visited—maybe once or twice a year—but Sakumo had been going there since he was a child. When Kawakaze was sick, off on solo missions, or just struggling with life, it was always Sakumo who had to step up as both elder brother and de facto parent.
"Let them go. Let's take a walk," Nayuki suggested, taking Tsunade's hand and walking outside to shift the focus away from the discussion of tomorrow's experiment.
In the ancestral hall, Kawakaze and Sakumo knelt before the ancestral tablets, one on each side. At the very front, there was an offering placed before a tablet—his broken White Light Chakra Sabre.
"It seems like it's been a long time since we knelt together in the ancestral hall, big brother," Kawakaze remarked.
Sakumo muttered incessantly, eyes closed, ignoring Kawakaze. After a long moment, he finally opened his eyes.
"It's been six months and seven days since the last time," Sakumo said slowly, recalling the exact time with perfect clarity.
"Big brother, you've worked so hard all these years," Kawakaze said, a touch of emotion in his voice. Though Sakumo wasn't much older than him, he had always cared for Kawakaze with the love and guidance of a father.
"No need to say such things between brothers," Sakumo replied, sniffing slightly. It was rare for Kawakaze to say something so sentimental.
"Save your crocodile tears," Kawakaze teased, shifting the tone abruptly. "What do you think you're doing?"
"You brat!" Sakumo laughed in exasperation and swatted him twice.
"Hey, hey!" Kawakaze exclaimed, pretending to be overwhelmed as he dodged left and right.
After landing the two swats, Sakumo, clearly not satisfied, glanced at the ancestral tablets. Knowing Kawakaze wouldn't dare retaliate in front of their parents' memorials, Sakumo couldn't resist taking full advantage of the opportunity.
"Alright, alright! My hair's a mess now," Kawakaze protested, using one hand to block Sakumo's strikes and the other to adjust his disheveled hairstyle.
"You're always asking for it," Sakumo grumbled, though he knew when to stop.
"If Mom and Dad were still here, they'd be so happy," Kawakaze said, his tone softening. After all, what parent wouldn't wish for a thriving family?
"Yeah, they'd be proud of us," Sakumo replied. It wasn't something he'd admit to anyone else, but deep down, he had his own sense of pride. As the head of the Anbu and with his brother married to the Hokage, the Hatake Clan was now one of Konoha's most prominent clans.
With so many disciples and two grandchildren, their parents would surely have been overjoyed to see the flourishing family they had built.
"Hopefully, they can find comfort in the afterlife," Kawakaze murmured as he stood and lit an incense stick.
Since today wasn't a formal occasion, there was no need to follow strict rituals.
"They surely will," Sakumo added, lighting an incense stick of his own.
The two brothers remained in the ancestral hall, talking for a long time before finally leaving, both feeling as if they hadn't finished everything they wanted to share.
As they grew older, moments like these—where family members could open their hearts to each other—had become increasingly rare.
The next day, after finishing breakfast, Kawakaze and Tsunade headed to the hospital. Throughout the meal, no one brought up what was about to happen.
"You're here," Orochimaru greeted as he opened the door to the laboratory. He was already busy with preparations.
"Morning, Sister Tsunade. Morning, brother-in-law," Misaki, Orochimaru's assistant, chimed in cheerfully as she assisted with the setup. She was also tasked with documenting the entire experiment from the start.
"When will it begin?" Kawakaze asked, seeming even more impatient than Tsunade.
"What's the rush? I'm not done with the preparations yet," Orochimaru snapped back. Their banter was the hallmark of a long-standing friendship full of mutual jabs.
"Take your time. I believe the first step is a physical examination, right?" Kawakaze recalled the process from his own experience of merging with Hashirama's cells.
"Yes, we need to draw Tsunade's blood first," Orochimaru confirmed.
"Give me a moment. I'm almost ready," Misaki said, quickening her pace slightly to avoid keeping Tsunade waiting.
"No rush. I can handle it myself," Tsunade said casually, grabbing a blood-drawing kit from the cabinet with practiced ease.
"Alright," Misaki replied, stepping back and letting her proceed.
"Are you sure that's convenient? Let me help you," Kawakaze offered, intrigued. He'd never drawn blood from anyone before and seemed eager to try.
"Just you?" Tsunade gave Kawakaze a skeptical look. She could already imagine him accidentally poking a hole in his own arm instead of hers.
"What's wrong with me?" Kawakaze retorted, feigning indignation. "This is such a trivial matter that there's no need for the Hokage to do it herself."
Without waiting for her approval, he grabbed the blood-drawing kit confidently. He knew Tsunade's resilient constitution—if he messed up and poked her a couple of times, it wouldn't cause any real harm. He'd given her plenty of "injections" before, and she'd never complained.
"I'll trust you this once," Tsunade said, raising a fist to his face as if daring him to try anything funny. She might not take damage easily, but if Kawakaze crossed the line, he wouldn't escape unscathed.
"Trust me, it'll be fine," Kawakaze replied, his tone brimming with confidence.
The two casually found a spot to sit.
"Give me your hand," Kawakaze said, his voice suddenly taking on a serious, professional tone.
This role reversal amused him—usually, Tsunade was the one giving orders.
"Yes, Doctor Kawakaze," Tsunade teased, playing along as she extended her hand.
"You've got great veins. Perfect for bloodletting," Kawakaze remarked as he secured the pressure band around her arm, slipping into his usual habit of talking nonsense.
"Screw you," Tsunade shot back, rolling her eyes. "What do you mean, 'perfect for bloodletting'? Stop spouting nonsense."
What kind of nonsense was this?
"I'm just praising you, aren't I?" Kawakaze said, holding the needle up and waving it slightly. Despite his bravado, he hesitated, unsure if he could pull it off without messing up.
"Go on, just do it," Tsunade urged, her patience wearing thin. If she handled it herself, it would've been done by now.
"I'll do it!" Kawakaze declared, gritting his teeth as he carefully inserted the needle. Flattening it against her skin, he focused intently. Fortunately, his sharp eyesight paid off—he nailed it on the first try. No extra pokes, no mistakes, and more importantly, no opportunity for Tsunade to pummel him.
"How was that? My technique was pretty good, wasn't it?" Kawakaze asked, a triumphant grin spreading across his face as blood began to flow into the tube.
"Even a blind cat can catch a dead mouse," Tsunade quipped, but the moment the words left her mouth, she regretted it.
Because if Kawakaze was the blind cat, she sure as hell wasn't the dead mouse.
"It's okay, so-so," she added with feigned indifference, trying to salvage her earlier remark. But the damage was done.