Nanami and Tsunade's new house was on a pretty quiet plot of land, right in the middle of the busy Nanami Bakery and the huge Senju Compound. It was a strategic spot, kind of like a peace treaty.
If Nanami walked five minutes east, he'd get hit with the smell of bread and his mom asking for grandkids. If he walked five minutes west, he'd get the smell of old wood and Daichi wanting a rematch.
It was basically the perfect Demilitarized Zone.
Inside, the morning light came through the paper screens. The place was a mix of comfy civilian stuff and ninja utility. The kitchen was massive (Nanami insisted), but the floorboards were reinforced to handle heavy impacts (Tsunade's request).
Nanami Kento was working in his study. The room smelled like ozone and fancy ink.
"Kento?"
The door slid open, and there was Tsunade. She wasn't in her mission gear, just a simple, loose yukata with her hair in a messy bun. She had a cup of tea in one hand and a scroll in the other.
"You've been in here since breakfast," she pointed out, leaning against the doorframe. "We've been married for three days. Is the honeymoon phase over already? Are you cheating on me with a blueprint?"
Nanami looked up from his desk. He smiled—that relaxed, goofy grin that always made her heart skip a beat.
"My dear wife," Nanami said, spinning his bone brush. "I'm not cheating. I'm crafting. Come here. I've got your wedding present."
Tsunade blinked. She walked into the room and set her tea down on a stack of books.
"You already gave me the ring," she said, holding up her hand where the silver band gleamed. "And you made the cake. Which, I gotta admit, was delicious."
"Those were just formalities," Nanami waved a hand. "The ring is for safety. The cake was for eating. This..."
He cleared a space on his desk.
"This is for power."
He motioned for her to come closer. "Give me your arm. The right one."
Tsunade looked at him curiously, but she played along. She stuck out her right arm. Nanami rolled up her sleeve, showing her pale forearm.
"Is this going to hurt?" she asked.
"Pain's relative, right?" Nanami winked. "But probably. Just a little sting."
He took a deep breath.
He didn't reach for chakra. He reached for the world around him.
Clap.
His hands came together in a sharp prayer.
Stillness.
In three seconds, the change happened. The purple markings traced around his eyes. His eyes turned that piercing sea-green with the bar pupil.
The air in the study got heavy. The golden aura of his Sage Mode flared up, coating him in metallic light.
Tsunade watched him, totally mesmerized. Even after seeing it before, his Sage Mode was something else. It felt ancient. Heavy.
"Hold still," Nanami said, his voice echoing a bit.
He dipped the bone brush into a pot of ink that was glowing with a faint green light. He'd mixed it with crushed seeds from the forest and his own Sage chakra.
He touched the brush to her wrist.
He started writing.
The ink hissed as it touched her skin, sinking right into the pores. Tsunade winced, feeling a hot, prickly sensation running up her arm, kind of like vines growing under her skin.
Nanami worked fast. His hand was a blur of golden motion. He drew a spiral at her wrist, then lines that shot up her forearm like roots, twisting until they reached her elbow.
"The Senju bloodline," Nanami explained as he wrote, eyes focused on her chakra flow. "It's potent. High vitality. Massive reserves. It's why you heal so fast. It's why you're strong."
He drew a symbol for 'Awakening'.
"But over the generations, it got diluted. Hashirama Senju was a mutant. A singularity of vitality. His cells didn't just repair; they created life."
He drew a symbol for 'Synthesis'.
"Your dad has the potential, but it's sleeping. You have it too, but it's dormant. It just needs a kickstart."
He finished the seal. He lifted the brush.
The ink didn't just dry; it moved. The lines of roots and spirals constricted, pulling together as they settled into her skin. They rearranged themselves, forming a sharp, familiar geometric shape on her forearm.
The Vajra. The ancient crest of the Senju Clan.
It glowed bright green for a second, then faded into a deep, tattoo-like black.
Nanami exhaled, dropping the Sage Mode. The gold faded. The markings vanished. He slumped a bit in his chair, wiping some sweat from his forehead.
"Done," he whispered.
Tsunade stared at the Senju crest on her arm. She could feel it. A warmth, pulsing with her heartbeat. It felt... hungry.
"What is it?" she asked.
"A Gene Amplifier," Nanami explained, capping the ink. "Or, if you want a fancy name, 'The Root of the World'."
He pointed to the symbol on her wrist.
"This seal acts like a bio-reactor. It takes your natural Earth and Water chakra, compresses it, and then floods it with a burst of energy from your own cells."
He looked her in the eye.
"It wakes up the sleeping god in your blood, Tsunade. It forces your genes to remember how to build a forest."
Tsunade's jaw dropped. "You mean... Wood Release?"
"Wood Release," Nanami confirmed. "Though not exactly like your grandpa's. His was natural, effortless. Yours is... engineered. It's Wood Release fueled by a fusion engine."
He tapped a small line drawn near her elbow.
"There's a limiter," he warned. "Don't try to make a whole forest yet. Your body isn't used to it. If you push too much chakra through this, the friction will burn your arm off. Stick to single structures. A tree. A wall. A dragon."
"A dragon," Tsunade repeated, dazed. "You gave me Wood Release?"
"I provided the activation method," Nanami corrected. "You already possessed the capacity. I merely corrected the initiation sequence."
Tsunade stood there, practically vibrating. She looked at her arm. She looked at the window.
"I need to try it."
"The courtyard," Nanami indicated. "Do not destroy the house. We just renovated it."
Tsunade ran out of the study, down the hall, and into the backyard.
Nanami followed at a walking pace, hands in his pockets.
The backyard was enclosed by a stone wall. A few decorative rocks and a small pond sat in the corner.
Tsunade stood in the center of the grass. She held out her right arm.
She focused.
She did not need hand signs. The seal acted as the hand sign.
She poured chakra into the Vajra on her wrist. Earth. Water.
The seal flared green. She felt a massive release of pressure. Her arm felt hot.
GROW.
She slammed her palm onto the ground.
RUMBLE.
The earth cracked.
From the soil, a thick, wooden trunk erupted. It twisted and ascended, bark groaning as it expanded rapidly. It was a massive beam of timber, thick as a barrel, shooting twenty feet into the air before branching out into leaves.
Tsunade stared up at the tree she had created.
It was real. It was living matter.
"I did it," she whispered. She looked at her hand. "I succeeded."
She turned around. Nanami was leaning against the porch railing, watching her with a satisfied smile.
"The structure is solid," he commented. "Though the aesthetic is aggressive."
Tsunade did not retort. She did not punch him.
She launched herself at him.
"KENTO!"
She tackled him. Nanami caught her, stumbling back against the wall.
She kissed him. It was forceful, a release of gratitude and adrenaline.
"Thank you," she gasped, pulling back but keeping her forehead against his. "Thank you. You do not understand what this signifies. To possess his power. To protect the village as he did."
"I understand," Nanami smiled softly, brushing a hair from her face. "You are the Princess. You deserve the title."
Tsunade stepped back. Her eyes shone with tears.
Her hand went to her neck.
She unclasped the necklace she always wore. The First Hokage's Crystal Necklace. The stone is worth three mountains. The stone that will be associated with curses in the future.
"Here," she said, holding it out to him.
Nanami looked at the crystal. It pulsed with blue light.
"It belonged to my grandfather," she whispered, her hand resting on the crystal over his heart. "Now it is yours. It is my wedding gift."
Nanami looked down at the necklace. He felt the chakra inside it—Hashirama's chakra. It was dense.
He smiled.
'A cursed necklace for a monster,' Nanami thought. 'Appropriate. I accept the challenge.'
He kissed her again.
"Thank you, Tsunade."
She grinned, wiping her eyes. "I am going to show Obaa-chan! She will react strongly! Watch the house!"
She turned and leaped over the garden wall, sprinting toward the main Senju compound.
"OBAA-CHAN! LOOK! I CREATED A TREE!"
Her voice faded.
Nanami stood alone in the garden, touching the crystal necklace.
He shook his head, chuckling. "She is loud. But efficient."
He turned and walked back into the house.
He returned to his study. The tea remained warm.
He sat down at his desk. He pulled out a fresh, blank scroll.
The "Gene Amplifier" was complete. ARIA was complete. The Gravity Chamber was complete.
But Nanami Kento was never finished.
He dipped his bone brush into the ink.
"Next project," he whispered.
He drew a circle.
Inside the circle, he drew seven smaller circles, creating a flower pattern.
Fire. Water. Earth. Wind. Lightning. Yin. Yang.
"Typically, individuals possess an affinity for one or two," Nanami muttered, narrowing his eyes. "Hiruzen mastered five due to talent. But to master all seven... to combine them..."
The Truth-Seeking Orbs.
The power of the Sage of Six Paths. It required the perfect fusion of all seven natures.
"Time for a stress test," Nanami decided.
He grabbed a scrap piece of chakra paper. He drew three simple symbols: Fire, Water, and Wind.
"Fusion Protocol Alpha," he muttered.
He placed his finger on the paper. He channeled small amounts of all three natures simultaneously, attempting to force them into a single structure.
Fire expanded. Water flowed. Wind cut.
They contacted the seal.
ZZZT-POP.
The paper did not burn. It did not get wet. It disintegrated into fine grey dust that drifted away.
Nanami stared at the empty spot on his desk.
"Well," he chuckled, wiping dust from his finger. "That was violent. And that was only three. I have four remaining. Plus Yin and Yang."
He looked back at the main blueprint. The complexity was immense. It was an attempt to combine incompatible volatile elements within a confined space without catastrophic failure.
"Current completion estimate: 5%," Nanami noted, looking at the sketch. "The mathematics will require years."
He leaned back, the First Hokage's necklace clinking against his chest.
"Years," he smiled. "Good thing I have time."
The sun began to set, casting long shadows across the blueprints.
Nanami Kento dipped his brush again.
Work to do.