Chapter 20 – The Healer's Threshold
"You want to learn? Then prove you deserve it."
The sky above Tanzaku Quarters was painted in the soft amber of early morning. Shops were only beginning to stir, lanterns still flickering from the gambling dens that hadn't closed through the night. Morning mist clung to the tiles and wood like reluctant dreams.
Outside the smaller of those dens, sitting cross-legged near the steps, Hajime hadn't moved since the evening before. His posture was calm but unyielding, his eyes closed in steady meditation. The night's chill still clung to his clothes, but he had neither shivered nor slept.
The door creaked open with a soft groan.
Shizune stepped out, blinking against the rising sun. When her eyes fell on the boy, still seated exactly where she'd last seen him, her expression softened into quiet surprise.
"You really stayed," she murmured.
Hajime opened his eyes slowly. He didn't smile, didn't bow again, he simply met her gaze and said, "Good morning, Shizune-san."
She knelt beside him and handed him a small towel and a bottle of water. "Here. You'll collapse if you keep up like this."
"I'm fine," Hajime said, taking the water. His voice was hoarse, but steady. "Thank you."
Behind them, heavy footsteps echoed from inside.
Tsunade appeared at the entrance, arms folded across her chest, the golden hem of her cloak brushing against the doorframe. Her expression was unreadable, half annoyance, half scrutiny.
"You know," she said dryly, "I thought you'd be gone by sunrise. Or curled up shivering under a bench."
Hajime stood and bowed low. "I'm still here."
"Yeah. I noticed." She stepped down, coming eye-to-eye with him now. "So you want to be my student."
"I do."
"Why?" she asked, blunt as a fist.
Hajime met her gaze. "Because I want to learn to save lives. To heal the people I care about. I have no clan, no title, and no power… but I can still learn. And if I can heal even one person one day, it's worth everything."
Tsunade stared at him for a long moment. Not blinking. Not moving. Then she scoffed.
"Don't get dramatic, kid. Words are cheap."
She turned, gesturing for him to follow. "Come on. If we're going to waste time, might as well start early."
They crossed a quiet alleyway and into a small wooden building adjacent to the gambling hall. Dust and old herbs clung to the air like cobwebs. A forgotten medical room, still equipped, but untouched.
Shizune followed behind with a quiet sigh. She was clearly used to this rhythm.
Tsunade walked over to a storage box, pulled out a roll of linen, and tossed it at Hajime. He caught it awkwardly.
"First," she said, turning around, "you don't get to learn a single jutsu unless I know your chakra is even worth the air you're breathing. Sit."
Hajime sat cross-legged on the floor.
She knelt in front of him and placed her fingers on his wrist, then his temple. Chakra flowed, warm and precise, like sunlight filtered through glass. Hajime felt her scan the pathways in his body, tracing his chakra coils, his core, his reserves.
Her expression changed slightly. Barely.
"…Well, you're not entirely hopeless," she muttered. "Your coils are small, but clean. Control's not bad for someone with no formal training. You've done water-walking?"
"Yes. And leaf exercises. Chakra threads, a bit."
Tsunade nodded once, grudgingly. "Fine. Then let's waste less time."
She stood and crossed her arms. "Medical ninjutsu isn't about guts or strength. It's about control, precision, and discipline. If you lose focus for a second, you don't just fail, you kill someone. Get it wrong, and your patient bleeds out. Or worse."
Hajime nodded silently.
"You think it's heroic? It's not. You're not going to pull people back from the brink with a speech and a pulse of chakra. You'll be covered in blood. You'll shake. And when your hands tremble at the wrong moment, you'll feel them die beneath you."
Her voice was cold steel. Sharp. Unforgiving.
Then she pointed to a nearby surgical stand.
"Your first task is to form and maintain a chakra scalpel. You'll probably take a week just to get a flicker. If you can't do it by sundown today…" she smirked, "then you may as well go back to watching me lose dice rolls."
Hajime stepped forward without flinching.
"Understood."
Hours passed.
The room grew hotter as the sun climbed over Tanzaku's red-tiled roofs. Tsunade sat near the open window, drinking sake without looking in his direction. Shizune scribbled notes nearby but occasionally glanced toward the boy on the floor.
Hajime's hands trembled, his brow soaked in sweat.
He had channeled chakra many times before, flowing it to his feet, his hands, refining it with slow control. But this was different. He was shaping it to a microscopic edge. No sloppiness. No raw power. It had to be steady, uniform, and lethal.
His first dozen attempts fizzled.
The next dozen sparked, but cracked.
Then, by midafternoon, a faint glow flickered at the edge of his fingers.
Tsunade barely looked up. "That's nothing."
He tried again.
And again.
By evening, his hands were sore. His chakra was low. But there, finally, thin, blue, and faint as a whisper, the chakra scalpel hummed at the tips of his fingers. It flickered, wavered, and dimmed… but it held.
Shizune's eyes widened slightly.
Tsunade glanced over.
She said nothing.
But she rose from her seat, walked to him, and handed him a strip of silk.
"Cut it."
Hajime lifted the scalpel, hand steady. One breath. One motion.
The fabric parted down the middle.
Tsunade exhaled slowly. "Tch. Lucky fluke."
But she turned away and muttered, "Tomorrow, we start early."
Hajime bowed low, panting. "Thank you."
She didn't respond. But before exiting the room, she said without looking back:
"If you screw up even once, I'll know. And I won't go easy."
That night, in the quiet of her rented suite, Tsunade sat with a half-full bottle of sake, staring at her own hands.
They had once saved hundreds.
They had also failed two.
She whispered, so softly only the shadows heard it:
"…Why do they always remind me of him?"
End of Chapter 20: The Healer's Threshold