Chapter 214 (Patreon)

It was difficult to say where Shukaku ranked in strength among the nine tailed beasts.

However, when it came to sheer misfortune, Kizaru felt Shukaku could easily compete for a place in the top three.

One detail alone was enough to prove it.

When the First Hokage was still alive and began capturing the tailed beasts, the others had been roaming freely and living as they pleased. Shukaku, on the other hand, had already been sealed away and imprisoned within a temple by the monks of the Land of Wind.

From that comparison alone, Shukaku was either weaker than the others or simply born under an unlucky star.

Kizaru had even wondered whether Shukaku had learned Wind Style, Magnet Style, and sealing techniques because of that humiliation. Perhaps being sealed away had wounded his pride so deeply that he had thrown himself into training until he mastered them.

Lost in such idle thoughts, Kizaru followed Shukaku and Hashirama to a stretch of open ground several miles from the village.

The area had once been covered by a dense forest. However, because Kushina and Shukaku frequently fought there, it had long since been reduced to a barren plain.

Shukaku strutted toward the center of the clearing before instinctively glancing at Kizaru.

Only after Kizaru nodded did he begin gathering chakra and restoring his original form.

“Keh-heh-heh! You stupid humans! Prepare yourselves for a lesson from Uncle Shukaku!”

His body expanded until he towered more than ten meters above the ground. Feeling the vast amount of chakra flowing through him once again, Shukaku became even more arrogant.

“Ooh... You’re certainly big,” Hashirama remarked, folding his arms as he looked up at the massive tanuki.

“Keh-hahahaha!”

Delighted by Hashirama’s comment, Shukaku laughed even louder, waving his claws and patting his enormous belly.

“Thank you for doing this,” Kizaru said with a smile as he stood beside Hashirama.

“Hahaha! Don’t worry about it. It’s no trouble at all!” Hashirama replied cheerfully.

Perched on Kizaru’s shoulder, Matatabi listened to the exchange between the two monsters beside her and gazed at Shukaku with deep sympathy.

After speaking, Hashirama walked toward the center of the clearing and stopped roughly five meters away from Shukaku.

He maintained that distance not because he feared being unable to use his techniques at close range, but because he wanted to leave enough room for the jutsu he planned to unleash.

“Well then... you may begin,” Kizaru announced once Hashirama was in position.

“Keh-heh-heh!”

Shukaku laughed again.

Still holding a grudge, he had no intention of showing mercy. He immediately raised both claws and struck his belly before opening his mouth.

“Wind Style: Drilling Air Bullet!”

A compressed sphere of wind erupted from his mouth and tore across the clearing.

Faced with an attack containing an enormous amount of Wind-nature chakra, Hashirama made no attempt to evade. He simply brought his hands together and activated two of his signature Wood Style techniques.

“Wood Style: Wood Golem Jutsu!”

“Wood Style: Wood Dragon Jutsu!”

The ground split apart as an enormous wooden golem rose from beneath it. A wooden dragon of equally astonishing size coiled around the golem’s body.

Shukaku’s Drilling Air Bullet was immense by ordinary standards. In front of the towering wooden golem, however, it resembled nothing more than a marble.

The golem reached out, caught the projectile between two fingers, and crushed it.

Watching from the sidelines, Kizaru’s eyes flashed with surprise.

He was not astonished that Hashirama could create such a massive wooden construct. What impressed him was the God of Shinobi’s extraordinary precision.

Making such a gigantic golem catch a high-speed projectile between only two fingers demanded an incredible degree of chakra control from the caster.

Hashirama truly deserved to be called the God of Shinobi.

He possessed overwhelming chakra reserves and a remarkably powerful body, yet his control over that chakra was equally refined.

Upon seeing Hashirama’s enormous wooden golem again, Matatabi was dragged back into some decidedly unpleasant memories.

She remembered being captured by that same technique.

What irritated her most was that after controlling the wooden golem and trapping her within its palm, that bastard Hashirama had possessed the nerve to call her dangerous.

Who was supposed to be dangerous here?

How could a monster like him say that with a straight face?

And then there was the other bastard beneath her.

Kizaru had once thrown her over his shoulder in the middle of a close-range fight while claiming, in that irritatingly calm voice of his, that she was frightening.

The more Matatabi thought about it, the angrier she became.

She couldn’t help turning toward Kizaru, tempted to ask whether the title of God of Shinobi came with some sort of inherited talent for infuriating tailed beasts.

While Matatabi quietly seethed, Shukaku stared up at the wooden golem towering more than half a body above him.

He was completely dumbfounded.

Was this really something a human could do?

What were those ridiculous wooden monstrosities?

Even Kizaru couldn’t create a physical ninjutsu of that size, could he?

Shukaku remained frozen in disbelief, but Hashirama had no intention of waiting for him to recover.

Hashirama had been born during the Warring States Period. Once a battle began, striking decisively was second nature to him.

Standing atop the wooden golem’s head, Hashirama commanded it to step forward. The golem leaned down, extended its right hand, and seized Shukaku in its enormous palm.

Being grabbed finally jolted Shukaku back to his senses.

He struggled violently and opened his mouth, intending to form a Tailed Beast Ball and destroy the wooden golem.

“A Tailed Beast Ball is too dangerous! I can’t let you fire that!”

Hashirama shouted as he commanded the wooden dragon wrapped around the golem’s body.

The dragon lunged forward, opened its jaws, and sank its wooden fangs around Shukaku’s upper body.

The wooden golem released its grip, allowing the dragon to lift Shukaku into the air before violently slamming him into the ground.

The impact blasted open a massive crater in the barren plain.

Shukaku crashed into its center, his body sprawled against the earth as though he had fallen from the sky. Sand burst from his body and scattered in every direction, gradually filling the crater around him.

The smile on Kizaru’s face stiffened for a moment.

Even he could almost feel Shukaku’s pain.

Matatabi sympathized with him most of all. Unable to continue watching, she quietly turned her face away.

Shukaku remained motionless inside the crater for quite some time before finally recovering.

He slowly pushed himself upright and sat in the middle of the pit. Then he raised his head and stared at Hashirama, who stood atop the wooden golem with his arms folded.

“Who... are you?”

Shukaku’s voice overflowed with grief, anger, and humiliation.

Seeing him in such a miserable state, Hashirama looked slightly embarrassed. He jumped down from the wooden golem’s head and released his jutsu.

Hashirama had defeated his share of tailed beasts, but this was the first time he had beaten one so badly that it appeared ready to cry.

“I only used half my strength! I’m really sorry! Hahaha!”

Hashirama scratched the back of his head and let out a dry laugh.

“This esteemed senior is Konoha’s First Hokage—the God of Shinobi, Hashirama Senju,” Kizaru explained, walking between Shukaku and Hashirama now that their duel had ended.

After hearing Kizaru’s explanation, Shukaku truly wanted to cry.

He had suspected that his opponent was powerful, but he had never imagined the man would turn out to be the previous God of Shinobi.

What terrible thing had he done to deserve this?

In the span of only three years, he had been beaten by two Gods of Shinobi one after another!

“Kizaru, you liar! You’re a horrible bastard! Isn’t Uncle Shukaku supposed to be your partner?”

Shukaku was no fool. He finally realized that Kizaru had deliberately tricked him.

He glared at Kizaru with a mixture of fury and betrayal before shouting his accusations.

“Ooh... but I respected your wishes completely, Shukaku,” Kizaru replied with an innocent smile. “You shouldn’t say such terrible things about me.”

Shukaku’s eyes widened.

Kizaru’s shameless excuse left him so furious that he temporarily lost the ability to speak.

Shukaku’s anger did not fade anytime soon. In fact, he remained furious all the way back to Konoha.

The moment they entered the village, Shukaku angrily declared that he was going to find Sasori before storming away from the group.

Matatabi did not continue following them either. After saying something to Kizaru, she jumped down from his shoulder and disappeared into the village, seemingly in search of somewhere to amuse herself.

In the end, only Kizaru and Hashirama were left to wander through Konoha together.

“Kizaru, tell me something. Do you think what I did back then was wrong?”

As they walked along the street, Hashirama found himself reflecting on Kizaru’s relationship with Shukaku and Matatabi.

“Even if you hadn’t captured them, the other shinobi villages would eventually have found ways to seize the tailed beasts themselves,” Kizaru replied, offering what comfort he could.

“No. The fact that other people might have committed the same mistake does not make my own actions right.”

Hashirama shook his head before continuing.

“Kizaru, if it’s possible, I hope the cycle of passing the Nine-Tails from one jinchūriki to the next can end with this generation.”

“Ooh... I feel the same way, Grandpa Hashirama.”

Kizaru stopped walking and turned to face him.

Hearing his answer, Hashirama smiled.

“I want to apologize to the tailed beasts. I hope that one day, all of them can coexist peacefully with humans, just as the One-Tail and Two-Tails do now.”

Hashirama looked at Kizaru with an approving smile.

“Kizaru, you’re going to become a truly great shinobi. You have already accomplished something I was never able to do.”

“Now that’s an embarrassing compliment.”

Kizaru spoke modestly, but the expression on his face showed that he had calmly accepted the praise.

After discussing the tailed beasts with the First Hokage for a while longer, Kizaru noticed that it was already growing late. He invited Hashirama back to the Senju residence for dinner.

Those revived through the Edo Tensei could still eat. Their bodies did not physiologically require food, but nothing prevented them from consuming it.

Sasori’s parents were one example.

There was also Yota, the child capable of controlling the weather whom Naruto, Shikamaru, and the others had met when they were young. He had been one of Orochimaru’s Edo Tensei test subjects, yet he had still eaten plenty of the snacks and other food the children gave him.

Hashirama was surprised to learn that his reanimated body could eat.

Because he had never experienced hunger or thirst since being revived, the thought had simply never occurred to him. Once he realized it was possible, he immediately asked whether he could have some alcohol with dinner.

Naturally, Kizaru agreed.

To ensure Tsunade had not forgotten to prepare any drinks, Kizaru took Hashirama to a nearby shop and bought several bottles of sake and beer.

After paying and leaving the shop with the alcohol in hand, Kizaru casually glanced at Hashirama beside him.

While Kizaru had been paying, Hashirama’s expression had shifted ever so slightly. His right hand had unconsciously brushed against the outer pocket of his clothes, and he had seemed unusually nervous.

Kizaru remembered the wallet Tsunade had given Hashirama before they left, along with Hashirama’s particular interests.

He had a strong suspicion that while wandering alone through Konoha, the First Hokage had visited one of Tsunade’s favorite establishments.

As a considerate junior, Kizaru did not expose what he had noticed. He pretended to know nothing and calmly led Hashirama toward the Senju compound.

He wondered what would happen when Tsunade discovered the truth.

Surely, it would be entertaining.

As they continued down the road, Kizaru decided that he would take his time eating dinner that night.

Ideally, he would remain at Tsunade’s house long enough to watch everything unfold.

Hashirama remained completely unaware of the wicked intentions of the junior walking beside him. He wore a broad smile and appeared to be looking forward to the evening’s dinner and drinks.

The sun gradually sank toward the horizon. Beneath the orange-red glow of dusk, the two men—each in an excellent mood for entirely different reasons—arrived at the Senju clan’s main residence.

Inside, Tsunade and her younger brother, Nawaki, had already prepared dinner and were waiting for Kizaru to return with Hashirama.

The main dish Tsunade had prepared was beef sukiyaki. The meat was premium beef imported from the Land of Lightning, a country well known for raising excellent cattle.

In addition to the hot pot, Tsunade had asked Nawaki to buy several side dishes that paired well with alcohol on his way home.

Nawaki, whom Tsunade had called back to the house, was still somewhat dazed.

He had yet to fully accept what was happening.

That could hardly be blamed on him. Anyone else would have been just as bewildered.

After all, not everyone could immediately accept that a deeply admired relative who had been dead for more than twenty years had suddenly returned to life, even if it was only temporary.

“Big Sis, how much longer will it take Grandpa to get here?”

Nawaki had still been an infant when Hashirama died. Everything he knew about his grandfather had come from his parents, his sister, and the stories told throughout the village.

“They should be here soon. Kizaru said he would bring Grandpa back before seven.”

Still wearing her cooking apron, Tsunade stood in the living room and glanced up at the clock on the wall.

While the siblings were speaking, the sound of the front door opening echoed from the hallway outside.

Kizaru had been with Tsunade long enough to possess his own key to her house.

“It’s Kizaru! Grandpa must be with him!”

Nawaki sprang to his feet and excitedly rushed toward the entrance.

He stopped in the hallway and stared at Hashirama, who had just stepped inside.

Nawaki’s eyes were filled with excitement, but he also seemed unsure of what to do.

“Why are you standing there? Greet him properly!”

Tsunade had followed Nawaki into the hallway. She promptly slapped the back of her younger brother’s head.

“Grandpa!”

His sister’s arrival gave Nawaki the courage he needed.

He shouted the word before rushing forward and stopping in front of Hashirama.

Hashirama gazed at the grandson who now stood only half a head shorter than him. For a moment, an image of Nawaki as a baby flashed through his mind.

“You’ve grown so much, Nawaki.”

Hashirama smiled warmly, his voice filled with emotion.

“Grandpa! I’ve always admired you! I-I’ve always wanted to become as strong as you! I... I...”

Nawaki nodded vigorously, but his excitement tangled his words before he could finish.

Hashirama raised a hand and gently rested it on Nawaki’s head.

“Kizaru told me everything you’ve accomplished. You have already become a greater shinobi than I ever was, Nawaki.”

His smile softened.

“I’m proud of you.”

The moment his grandfather acknowledged him, Nawaki felt tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

He did not know why.

He simply wanted to cry.

His eyes reddened, and Nawaki turned his face away in embarrassment before hurriedly wiping their corners with his hand.

“Ooh... I’m about to starve to death,” Kizaru said, stepping in to spare Nawaki further embarrassment. “Why don’t we eat while we talk?”

“Right!”

Nawaki responded immediately. He took the alcohol from Kizaru’s hands and accompanied Hashirama into the living room.

With Hashirama present, the atmosphere around the dinner table was especially warm that evening.

Hashirama and Tsunade spent much of the meal reminiscing about the past.

Hashirama recounted how Nawaki used to wet the bed and how Tsunade had once carried him outside to bathe him in the pond. Nawaki caught a cold afterward, and Tsunade received a spanking from their parents.

Then there was the time Tsunade had made food out of mud and tried to feed it to Nawaki.

Fortunately, one of the household maids had noticed in time.

Kizaru drank with Hashirama and listened to him recount stories from Tsunade and Nawaki’s childhood. As the tales continued, the sympathy in his gaze whenever he looked at Nawaki steadily deepened.

Nawaki himself barely remembered those particular incidents.

His strongest memory from childhood was that being punched by his sister hurt tremendously.

As the conversation continued, the subject eventually shifted toward Tsunade’s love of gambling and her famously disastrous luck.

“Grandpa Hashirama, I heard that you also enjoy gambling,” Kizaru remarked with a smile when Hashirama mentioned the subject.

“Me? Hahaha!”

Hashirama laughed sheepishly.

“It’s only a small hobby.”

“And how good is your luck?” Kizaru continued.

“I’m quite skilled at cards!”

The moment gambling was mentioned, Hashirama became noticeably more animated. He straightened his back and spoke with immense pride.

“What? Grandpa, your luck has always been terrible!”

Having already consumed a fair amount of alcohol, Tsunade’s cheeks were slightly flushed. She stared resentfully at Hashirama.

“I’ve always suspected that my bad luck came from you!”

“Ahahahaha!”

Unable to offer a convincing defense, Hashirama could only laugh awkwardly.

Tsunade propped her cheek against one hand and stared at her laughing grandfather through slightly unfocused eyes.

“Grandpa, why don’t we play a few rounds tonight?”

“Well... perhaps we should forget about that!”

Hashirama hurriedly waved his hands.

“I’m not the man I used to be. There are more important matters to deal with!”

In his panic, he almost allowed the truth to slip out.

Noticing his suspicious behavior, Tsunade narrowed her eyes.

“Grandpa... you didn’t go gambling this afternoon, did you?”

“Ahahahaha! I...”

Hashirama scratched the back of his head and laughed stiffly.

His gaze moved from Kizaru to Nawaki, silently pleading for either of them to rescue him.

Tsunade removed the hand supporting her chin and leaned forward, staring intently at Hashirama.

“Grandpa, give me your wallet.”

Realizing that he could no longer conceal the truth, Hashirama lowered his head in despair.

With a thoroughly defeated expression, he pulled the shriveled wallet from his outer pocket.

“I happened to pass the place while walking down the street. The attendant outside the gambling hall was so enthusiastic that I thought I might as well go inside and play a few rounds.”

As Hashirama explained himself, Tsunade took the wallet.

The moment she felt its weight, she sensed that something was wrong and immediately guessed the outcome.

She opened the empty wallet, stared inside it, and then raised her widened eyes toward Hashirama.

“Grandpa... did you lose all two million ryō?”

Hashirama’s head sank even lower.

“My luck wasn’t particularly good today,” he replied in an almost inaudible voice.

Tsunade slammed her palm against the table, startling everyone around it.

“Damn it! Come on, Grandpa! Take me to that gambling hall! I’ll win your money back for you!”

Kizaru wiped away the nonexistent cold sweat on his forehead before glancing at Nawaki across the table.

He felt both helpless and deeply amused.

“Perhaps we should forget it, Tsunade. Your luck is rather...”

“Grandpa, I’m not the same as I was before!”

Tsunade pushed herself to her feet with both hands against the table.

“I’m a gambling master now!”

Hashirama stared at his confident granddaughter with evident suspicion before turning uncertainly toward Kizaru.

Tsunade’s intoxicated gaze immediately settled on him.

What else could Kizaru possibly do?

He nodded solemnly and raised his voice.

“Yes. Tsunade is very skilled.”

Satisfied by Kizaru’s answer, Tsunade smiled.

She walked around the dining table, stopped beside Hashirama, and seized her grandfather by the arm.

“Come on, Grandpa! Let’s go!”

“Hahaha! In that case, perhaps we should give it a try,” Hashirama replied hesitantly.

Although his tone remained uncertain, the anticipation in his eyes was impossible to hide.

He clearly wanted to gamble again.

“Don’t worry, Grandpa. I have money!”

Tsunade turned and strode toward her bedroom. It did not take long for her to return to the dining room.

This time, she carried a bank deposit slip.

Tsunade slapped it down in front of Hashirama.

“There are five million ryō here. We’ll use it to win back everything you lost tonight.”

“Hahaha! Little Tsunade is right! We’ll win it all back!”

Swept up by Tsunade’s enthusiasm, Hashirama rose from his seat and loudly agreed.

“Kizaru, stay here and help Nawaki clean everything up!”

Tsunade waved the deposit slip at Kizaru before dragging Hashirama out of the house.

“Kizaru, why didn’t you stop my sister?”

Nawaki rose from his seat and stared at him worriedly.

“Ooh... it’s only five million ryō. Hardly anything to worry about,” Kizaru replied calmly.

Was five million really a small amount?

When Nawaki thought about his salary and the spending money he received, five million ryō still seemed like a fortune.

Besides, was the money truly the most important issue here?

The two of them had been drinking, and now they were going out to gamble.

“What I’m worried about is that my sister drank too much.”

“Don’t worry about that. Let’s clean up.”

Kizaru stood and smiled at him.

“Do you honestly think that little amount of alcohol could make Tsunade drunk?”

“What do you—”

Nawaki froze before immediately understanding.

“Damn it! Big Sis only promised me she wouldn’t gamble!”

“Let them enjoy themselves for one night,” Kizaru said with a smile.

Nawaki released a heavy sigh.

In only one evening, the magnificent image he had always held of his grandfather had fallen considerably.

The two of them cleaned the house quickly. In less than half an hour, everything had been put away.

Once they finished, Nawaki suggested that they head out and find Tsunade and Hashirama at the gambling hall.

How long would it take an ordinary person to spend five million ryō?

According to the official exchange rate, one ryō was worth approximately ten yen. For an ordinary person, that sum could last several years.

Even if someone spent it entirely on gambling, they could continue playing for several days, perhaps even a week or two.

If fortune favored them, they might not lose anything at all. They could even multiply their original money several times over.

But for Hashirama and Tsunade, a grandfather-and-granddaughter pair whose terrible gambling luck was perfectly matched, five million ryō could disappear in only a few rounds.

Just as Kizaru and Nawaki arrived outside the gambling hall on the commercial street, Tsunade and Hashirama emerged from the entrance.

They had already lost everything.

Tsunade looked both furious and frustrated, while Hashirama appeared utterly dejected.

“That makes no sense! How could we lose everything so quickly tonight?”

Tsunade knew perfectly well that her luck was poor. Even so, based on her previous experiences, five million ryō should have lasted an hour or two.

Tonight, however, the entire sum had vanished in less than thirty minutes.

“Little Tsunade, you played well, but please don’t do this again!”

After losing so much money at once, Hashirama had completely sobered up.

He turned toward Tsunade and spoke with rare seriousness.

“We were simply unlucky tonight! I’ll win it back for you next time!”

Because Hashirama was still using the Transformation Jutsu to conceal his identity, Tsunade could not call him Grandpa in public.

After hearing her explanation, Hashirama hesitated.

There was a question he desperately wanted to ask.

Had Tsunade ever truly been lucky?