NoviceAuthor
patreon
[NSSSG] [ARC-05] Chapter : 198 - First patient
🕑 Added 2025-09-11 18:00:28 +0000 UTC“Why are you home so early today?”
Kurenai opened the door, blinking in surprise when she saw Kitazawa standing there.
“I missed you, so I came back,” he said, stepping forward to pull her into his arms—his hand wandering down to give her a playful pat on the rear.
Her hips trembled slightly under his touch, soft yet firm.
“Get to the point!”
Kurenai huffed, lifting a leg to kick him away. Of course she didn’t buy that excuse.
“Has Yakumo arrived yet?”
Kitazawa rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing in her faint fragrance.
“Why would she?” Kurenai shot back.
“Our psychological medical-nin system is basically complete,” he explained, his hand sliding down her waist until he brushed the bandage on her thigh. “Today, we’re going to treat our first patient.”
“Who?” Kurenai asked, curiosity sparking in her eyes.
“I’ll tell you—but you mustn’t breathe a word to anyone.” Kitazawa lowered his voice. “It’s Lady Tsunade.”
“What? Impossible.” Kurenai’s first reaction was disbelief.
“Want to come with us?” Kitazawa teased, kneading her thigh lightly.
“You two go.” Kurenai shook her head after a pause. “I’m not a medical-nin. And with something that confidential, I shouldn’t interfere.”
“Given Lady Tsunade’s personality, she won’t mind. And once she’s cured, it won’t matter anyway.”
“I’ll stay home and train.” Kurenai insisted, her tone softening. During their mission in the Capital, she had realized how limited her strength really was. Against jonin-level foes, she had been nearly helpless alone. She wanted to close that gap as soon as possible.
“Besides, New Year’s is in two days. I need to go shopping later.”
Kitazawa blinked. “New Year already?”
He’d been so caught up in missions that the thought had completely slipped his mind.
“Alright then. Thanks, Yuhi.”
Just then, footsteps approached. Kitazawa turned to see Yakumo hurrying over.
“Kitazawa-sensei.” She bowed politely.
“Follow me.”
After Kurenai closed the door, Kitazawa led Yakumo forward. She trailed behind, her mind swirling with curiosity. Who could this mysterious first patient be?
Her heart skipped a beat when Kitazawa stopped at the house next door. Wasn’t that where Lady Tsunade and Shizune lived? No—surely not.
But Kitazawa knocked.
“You’re here? Come in,” Shizune greeted as she opened the door. She didn’t look surprised—clearly this had been arranged.
Inside, Tsunade lounged on the sofa like a lazy cat, collar falling open just enough to reveal pale skin and tempting curves.
“Lady Tsunade.” Kitazawa cleared his throat, forcing himself to look away. The woman’s allure was dangerously distracting.
“Why didn’t you come yesterday?” she asked with a yawn, sitting up.
“Yuhi and I were on a mission. We only got back yesterday afternoon and didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Shizune, take them and go.”
“Mm.” Shizune tugged Rina Uzumaki toward the back. Karin, meanwhile, was training at the academy.
“Yakumo, your first patient… is Lady Tsunade.” Kitazawa ruffled her hair gently. “Start the consultation.”
“What?” Yakumo froze, dizzy with pressure. Usually, Tsunade was the one treating her. And how could someone like Tsunade possibly have a psychological illness? She was a Sannin—the greatest medical-nin in the world.
“Don’t be nervous.” Tsunade’s tone was calm, almost reassuring. “Just follow the steps you were taught.”
“Y-yes, Lady Tsunade.”
“Kitazawa, sit by me.”
He hesitated but obeyed. As he settled beside her, Tsunade leaned close, her breath warm against his ear.
His body stiffened.
“If I lose control… don’t let Yakumo see it.”
“I understand.”
Kitazawa nodded immediately. He hadn’t seen her hemophobia firsthand, but he knew what it looked like. It would tear down the image of strength she carried—and it was natural she didn’t want Yakumo to witness it.
After whispering, Tsunade sat back. Only then did she realize—why was she fine with Kitazawa seeing her at her worst? Was it because he’d already seen her drunk and unguarded? Or because, during the Root incident, he had shielded her from the sight of blood?
Somehow, she found she trusted him more than she realized.
“Lady Tsunade,” Yakumo began, activating the Therapeutic Words Technique. Her voice softened, carrying gentle reassurance.
“Mm.” Tsunade could have dispelled it instantly, but chose not to.
“What did you have for breakfast? Grilled fish? I had ramen.” Yakumo chatted casually, stringing together harmless topics to build comfort.
Relaxed by the jutsu, Tsunade responded with surprising ease, talking with her for nearly half an hour.
“Have you been sleeping well? Any nightmares?” Yakumo asked carefully.
“Not long ago, I had one,” Tsunade admitted after a pause. “I dreamed of Nawaki.”
Yakumo frowned slightly. She didn’t know the name, but it was clearly important. If Kitazawa had asked her to treat Tsunade, then it meant there was trauma buried deep.
“Nawaki was… my younger brother,” Tsunade said softly.
Yakumo’s chest tightened. She’d never heard mention of him—meaning he must have died long ago.
“Would you… tell me about him?” Yakumo asked gently.
“I can.”
Tsunade drew her knees up onto the sofa, hugging them close. A defensive posture. Then she began to speak—about Nawaki’s childhood, his graduation, his tutelage under Orochimaru, and his tragic death on the battlefield.
Yakumo listened intently. Tsunade hadn’t stated the illness outright, but the pieces were falling into place. The loss of a sibling could leave wounds deeper than any scar.
“Her illness is hemophobia,” Kitazawa said quietly, filling the silence.
Yakumo’s eyes widened. A fear of blood—born from loss and helplessness. For the strongest healer in the shinobi world, unable to save her own brother… how much despair must that have caused?
“What are the symptoms, exactly?” Yakumo asked. She couldn’t treat properly without knowing.
“Whenever she sees blood, her body trembles uncontrollably. She can’t move.” Kitazawa answered.
“A psychological trigger causing a physical reaction…” Yakumo murmured.
“You can use Inner Mind Transfer,” Tsunade interjected suddenly. “See it firsthand—it will make treatment more precise.”
“Lady Tsunade.” Kitazawa’s chest tightened. He shook his head. “That’s not necessary.”
“Kitazawa, you’re a medical-nin. You know I’m right.” Tsunade bit her lip, eyes firm. “I agreed to this. I won’t back down.”
Kitazawa fell silent, his heart stirring. For years she had avoided this fear. But now… she was choosing to face it head-on.
“Yakumo.”
Kitazawa glanced at Yakumo Kurama.
Demonic Illusion: Descending Hell Technique!
Yakumo’s hands flashed through seals.
Tsunade’s eyes glazed over as the illusion took hold—blood poured endlessly before her.
Her body trembled.
“B-Blood… so much blood…”
Her hands spread open unconsciously, pupils dilating in raw panic. The legendary, decisive Tsunade now looked like a terrified rabbit cornered in the dark.
Yakumo froze, shocked. She hadn’t expected Tsunade’s hemophobia to be this severe.
Kitazawa immediately stepped forward, shielding Yakumo’s view. He raised his hand, chakra flaring, and dispelled the genjutsu.
Tsunade gasped and instinctively clutched his hands. As the illusion melted away, her trembling slowed. She drew deep, shaky breaths, chest rising and falling.
Kitazawa’s eyes flicked downward for a moment, dangerously distracted by the sight.
“Thank you.”
She released him, only to notice the red indentations on his wrists—her fingers had gripped so hard they left marks. No bleeding, but still…
“Yakumo,” Kitazawa said, settling back down beside her, “anything else you’d like to ask?”
Yakumo hesitated, then spoke. “Lady Tsunade… besides Nawaki’s death, was there something else?”
“There… was.”
Tsunade shut her eyes, panic threatening to surge again—until a warm hand closed over hers. She looked down. Kitazawa was holding her hand firmly.
“This is called returning a favor,” he said softly.
She had done the same for him earlier.
Tsunade didn’t reply, but she didn’t let go either.
“During the Second Great Ninja War,” she began quietly, “I proposed that every squad should have a medical ninja. Only one man—Kato Dan—stood with me.”
Yakumo blinked. She’d never heard of him. That could only mean… he was long dead.
“Because of that, we grew close. I even thought… maybe after the war ended… But he died soon after, on the battlefield.”
Her grip on Kitazawa’s hand tightened.
“I—I watched him die right in front of me.” Her voice broke, trembling. “His injuries were too severe. I… I couldn’t—”
Her eyes glistened. Kitazawa remembered her earlier request and quickly covered them with his hand, using chakra to quietly absorb her tears.
Yakumo bit her lip, speechless. The mighty Tsunade carried wounds deeper than she’d imagined.
“I’m fine.”
After a moment, Tsunade pushed his hand away. But her other hand still clung tightly to his, as if drawing strength from it.
“Yakumo.” She steadied her voice. “If we’re to treat this hemophobia, it must begin with these two memories.”
“Understood,” Yakumo said, then asked, “Lady Tsunade, do you wish to keep those memories… or seal them away?”
“Keep them.”
She didn’t hesitate long. Forgetting would be cowardice. No matter how much she avoided, she wouldn’t run.
“Then we’ll need to use the Emotion Displacement Technique,” Yakumo explained. “Weaken the emotions tied to those memories.”
“Alright. But if it fails… you’ll need a backup plan.”
“I’ll prepare one once I return,” Yakumo admitted, then bowed her head. “But I… haven’t fully mastered emotion displacement yet.”
“It’s fine.” Tsunade shook her head. “Today isn’t right anyway. My emotions are unstable—and on someone like me, half-baked jutsu won’t work.”
“How long until you’ve mastered it?” Kitazawa asked.
“A week at most!” Yakumo promised.
“Perfect,” Kitazawa said with a nod. “Right after New Year.”
“New Year…” Tsunade murmured, her expression clouding. The last proper one she’d spent was with Nawaki.
“Yes,” Yakumo exhaled.
“You’ve done well today. You may go,” Kitazawa said gently. He didn’t stand—Tsunade still held his hand.
“Lady Tsunade, Kitazawa-sensei, goodbye.” Yakumo bowed and left.
Kitazawa turned back—only to feel weight on his shoulder.
Tsunade leaned against him, body pressed close, gaze distant and unfocused.
He hesitated, but said nothing. Silence settled, the minutes stretching.
“…I let you see a weak side of me today.”
“Lady Tsunade,” Kitazawa said gravely, “are you planning to silence me now?”
She burst into laughter.
Stretching languidly, her clothes slipping dangerously, she smirked. “I won’t silence you. But you’d better be careful.”
“Lady Tsunade, I’ve earned great merit today,” Kitazawa declared solemnly. “If you must kill anyone, it can’t be me!”
“I can’t bring myself to,” she teased, lips curving. “It’s rare to find someone as amusing as you.”
Most shinobi cowered before her. Only Jiraiya and Orochimaru treated her casually—one too lecherous, the other too cold. Kitazawa, bold, handsome, and quick with jokes, was… refreshing.
“Then I’m relieved.” Kitazawa thumped his chest in mock relief.
Tsunade rolled her eyes.
“Lady Tsunade, New Year’s in two days,” Kitazawa grinned. “How about celebrating together?”
“Fine,” she said lightly. Her past New Years had always been just her and Shizune.
“Then it’s settled. Kurenai, Shizune-senpai, and I will cook.”
“Mm. You wouldn’t dare eat mine anyway.” Her tone was lazy, almost self-mocking.
“On the contrary, Lady Tsunade’s cooking must be divine,” he said without thinking.
“Oh? Then I’ll make something for you on New Year’s Day.”
Kitazawa froze. “Th-that won’t be necessary…”
Her laughter rang out again. When she laughed like that, it was dazzling—too dazzling. His eyes lingered despite himself.
“You have Kurenai, yet still wandering eyes?” she asked playfully. “Should I tell her?”
“You can’t blame me!” Kitazawa protested solemnly. “Blame yourself for being too captivating.”
“You sweet-talker.” She shot him a glare. “No wonder Kurenai’s so easily fooled by you.”
“I only sacrifice myself to make Lady Tsunade smile.”
That earned him another smile—soft, genuine this time.
“Go on then. If you get bored, meet me at the casino.”
“I have to check on my Academy students,” Kitazawa said, rising. “Lady Tsunade, until next time.”
She watched him go, his figure disappearing through the door.
And for a moment, Tsunade simply sat there—lost in thought.
