Naruto: One Eye Tenseigan

The classroom was unusually calm.

Tomaru sat near the back, his chair angled slightly toward the window as the mid-morning sunlight spilled across his desk. Iruka-sensei's voice carried clearly through the room, uninterrupted by the usual chatter or interruptions.

"Your task is to analyze the strengths and weaknesses of a hypothetical village and propose a defense strategy," Iruka explained, holding up a scroll. "Remember, teamwork and logical planning are key here. There's no one-size-fits-all solution."

Tomaru's gaze drifted to the front of the class. Naruto was seated upright, his hands clasped on the desk as he actually—actually—listened to Iruka's instructions. Kiba leaned back in his chair, nodding thoughtfully as he whispered something to Shino. Even Sakura and Ino, who often exchanged whispered comments during lessons, were silent, their attention firmly fixed on Iruka.

The classroom wasn't silent—it was focused.

Tomaru frowned slightly, his fingers brushing against the edge of his notebook. He'd noticed the change weeks ago, but it hadn't truly struck him until now. This wasn't how things used to be.

Why is everyone so... calm?

—

He found Ino waiting for him beneath their usual tree, her blonde hair catching the sunlight as she waved him over.

"Hey, you're late," she teased, her tone light.

Tomaru shook his head slightly as he approached, his notebook tucked under one arm. "I didn't realize we had a schedule."

"Of course we do," she replied with a mock huff, patting the grass beside her. "Now sit down before I change my mind."

Tomaru lowered himself onto the grass, leaning back against the rough bark of the tree. Ino sat cross-legged beside him, her blue eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"So," she began, eyeing the notebook in his hand. "What's in that little notebook of yours? More secret ninja stuff?"

Tomaru smirked faintly, flipping it open. "Just observations."

"Observations?" she echoed, leaning closer. "Like what? Strategies? Secrets? secret list of your crushes?"

"Nothing that interesting," he replied calmly. "Mostly techniques, adjustments to taijutsu, stuff like that."

Ino pouted, crossing her arms. "You're so boring sometimes. Give me something fun. Who do you think is the hottest kunoichi in the village?"

Tomaru glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "Tsunade."

"Well," she said, her tone surprisingly measured. "They do say Miss Tsunade has a beautiful appearance and… a well-endowed body."

Her calm response made Tomaru pause. He raised an eyebrow, studying her closely. Normally, Ino would have bristled at the suggestion, teasing him about having terrible taste or getting jealous. But today, her reaction was rational, even measured.

Tomaru blinked, momentarily caught off guard. This wasn't the reaction he expected.

Tomaru leaned forward slightly. "Are you feeling okay?"

Ino tilted her head, her brows knitting in mild confusion. "What do you mean?"

Tomaru meeting her curious gaze. "Just… nothing."

—

Ino watched Tomaru carefully, twirling a blade of grass between her fingers. She had always felt comfortable around him, but lately, that comfort had grown into something deeper. She found herself saying things she wouldn't normally say, pushing the boundaries of their banter without hesitation.

Even now, as she teased him, there was no urge to compete for his attention or feel annoyed by his casual comment about Tsunade. Instead, she felt oddly at ease.

Her gaze lingered on him, her lips curving into a faint smile. "How do you even know about her?"

Tomaru's expression shifted, his brow furrowing slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Tsunade hasn't been in the village since the Third Shinobi War, right?" Ino said, her tone curious. "Most of us have only heard stories about her. The legendary medic who saved countless lives, one of the Sannin. People say she left after the war and never came back."

Tomaru stiffened imperceptibly. He met her gaze, but for a brief moment, his usual calm wavered.

"Something wrong?" Ino asked, tilting her head.

"No," Tomaru said quickly, his tone even. "I've just read a lot. There are plenty of records about her."

Ino didn't press further, but her eyes narrowed slightly as if trying to read something in his expression.

—

He thought back to their earlier interaction. Ino's rational response to his comment about Tsunade wasn't just unusual—it was almost unnatural. The Ino he knew would have bristled at the suggestion, launching into a spirited debate about why someone else, likely herself, deserved the title.

It wasn't the first time he'd noticed this.

The synchronization with the Tenseigan had brought him an inner peace he hadn't known before. His body, mind, and chakra flowed in perfect harmony. But now, that peace seemed to ripple outward, touching those around him.

Tomaru exhaled softly, his gaze returning to the sky.

This isn't just a coincidence.

Tomaru didn't know the full extent of this ability, but he knew one thing for certain: it wasn't something he could control. It was like a faint breeze, invisible yet undeniable, carrying a quiet harmony wherever he went.

It wasn't a bad thing. The Academy was more focused, Iruka's burden had eased, and even Ino seemed happier.

But it was strange.

For now, Tomaru decided to keep the realization to himself. He wasn't ready to share something he didn't fully understand. But deep down, he knew this was only the beginning.

—

The sun dipped low on the horizon, bathing Tanzaku Town in hues of orange and gold. Lanterns flickered to life one by one, their soft glow illuminating the bustling streets. Travelers meandered through the town square, voices rising in cheerful chatter. Amid the lively scene, a lone figure walked with quiet determination, her steps steady despite the weight in her shoulders.

Her scarf fluttered slightly in the evening breeze, its frayed edges brushing against the dark, worn fabric of her attire. The subtle crimson stains on the scarf hinted at battles hard-fought and barely won. She scanned the buildings ahead until her gaze settled on a small, unassuming inn with a wooden sign swaying gently in the wind.

She stepped through the inn's doorway, the faint scent of grilled fish and sake greeting her like an old companion.

The room was alive with life and noise. A group of merchants huddled over bowls of steaming ramen, laughing heartily as they clinked their sake cups together. Near the corner, a familiar blonde sat reclining at a low wooden table. A sake bottle rested lazily in her hand, her sharp amber eyes watching the room with the same commanding presence that had made her a legend. Beside her, Shizune meticulously arranged a stack of documents, her brow furrowed in concentration.

The blonde's gaze shifted as she entered, her lips curling into a wry grin. "Well, well," she called out, raising her sake cup. "Look who's still breathing."

She sighed, tugging her scarf loose and draping it over one shoulder. "Do you have to start every conversation like that, Tsunade-sama?"

Tsunade chuckled, setting the sake bottle down with a satisfying clink. "Only because it's true. Honestly, you're like a cat with nine lives. But one of these days, you'll run out."

Crossing the room with deliberate steps, she lowered herself onto the tatami mat across from Tsunade and Shizune. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

Shizune glanced up from her papers, offering a warm smile. "It's good to see you again. It's been a while."

She nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Likewise, Shizune. You've been keeping Tsunade-sama in line, I hope."

Shizune chuckled softly. "I try my best."

As the conversation carried on, Tsunade's sharp senses caught a faint but familiar scent—metallic and lingering. The scent of blood. Her amber eyes narrowed slightly, her expression shifting to something more serious.

"Shizune," Tsunade said, her voice casual but commanding.

"Yes, Tsunade-sama?" Shizune paused, looking up from her stack of papers.

"Take her to the back."

She raised an eyebrow, the corners of her lips quirked upward. "That obvious, huh?"

"Don't start with me," Tsunade replied, leaning back with her sake cup. "You're lucky I don't throw you over my shoulder and patch you up myself. Shizune, now."

Shizune sighed, already gathering her medical kit. "This way."

The back room of the inn was a quiet, dimly lit space. A single paper lantern hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the tatami floor. She sat cross-legged as Shizune knelt before her, medical kit open and ready.

"Let me see," Shizune said softly, her tone laced with concern.

She hesitated for a moment before unwinding her scarf, revealing a jagged wound stretching diagonally across her chest. Though the bleeding had stopped, the edges were raw and inflamed, the result of prolonged strain.

Shizune gasped, her hands trembling for a brief moment before she steadied herself. "How long have you been walking around like this?"

"Since this morning," she replied evenly. "The mission came first."

Shizune frowned, her hands glowing with green chakra as she began her work. "You're lucky you didn't collapse. You should've treated this earlier."

"I've dealt with worse," she muttered, her gaze distant.

As the faint hum of healing chakra filled the room, Shizune worked with quiet efficiency, her movements precise. Sweat beaded on her brow as she coaxed torn tissue to knit itself back together.

When the wound was finally healed, Shizune leaned back, exhaling a tired sigh. "There. No scars this time either. But please, take care of yourself."

She tilted her head in a small nod, rewrapping her scarf with the same deliberate grace she showed in battle. "Thanks, Shizune. You're a lifesaver. Literally."

Shizune smiled faintly, shaking her head. "It's my duty. But don't make a habit of this."

When she returned to the main room, Tsunade glanced up, her expression unreadable. "All patched up?"

"Of course," she replied, retaking her seat across from Tsunade.

Tsunade studied her for a moment, swirling the sake in her cup. "You know, one of these days, your recklessness is going to catch up with you. And even Shizune won't be able to patch you up."

She adjusted her scarf, her expression calm. "I'll try to avoid that."

"See that you do," Tsunade replied, her tone lighter now. "We need you in one piece."

As the evening wore on, the conversation shifted to lighter topics. But beneath the surface, there was a shared understanding—a bond forged in trust and experience.

When she finally rose to leave, Tsunade smirked. "Hey."

She paused at the door, glancing back over her shoulder.

"You're not dead yet," Tsunade said, raising her cup in a mock toast. "Don't forget to keep it that way."

A faint smile curved her lips. "I'll try."

As she stepped into the night, the door closing softly behind her, Tsunade leaned back in her chair, her gaze distant. "One of these days," she muttered to herself, "she's going to surprise even me."