Chapter 320 - 320: Senju Revival Starts In Her Office

After they returned to the village, the hospital had been overwhelmed.

Madara's appearance inside Konoha left thousands of casualties, and Tsunade had stepped in immediately.

She became the temporary head of the entire facility, personally treating the hardest cases while directing the rest with her usual precision.

At this point, she didn't care much about whether she had officially "rejoined" the village or not.

She only stayed because Ryusei decided to return.

And once she was here, her medical ethics wouldn't allow her to ignore the wounded.

She had worked almost without sleep for days, barely finding a moment to see Ryusei at all.

Her feelings toward Konoha were neutral at best.

Good memories existed, but so did the worst ones of her life.

The only reason she remained was him.

Still, she couldn't deny the satisfaction she felt over the last week's outcome.

Hiruzen was dead, the elders too, and the clans that supported them, the Sarutobi, Shimura, and the other corrupt branches, were erased.

Everyone directly involved in Nawaki's death, or who knew about it and stayed silent, was gone. Many ANBU commanders fell as well.

The only thing that weighed on her these past few days was Jiraiya's death.

She mourned him quietly.

But since Ryusei hadn't killed him personally, she could at least accept it without it tearing her apart.

Tsunade finally looked up when Ryusei appeared.Her eyes narrowed immediately.

"…You didn't knock."

"I phased in," Ryusei said. "Knocking would defeat the point."

She snorted and tossed her pen aside.

"Of course. Godhood and basic manners don't mix, I see."

Ryusei shrugged. "I try to stay consistent."

Tsunade leaned back in her chair and stared at him for a long moment.Her gaze drifted upward—specifically to his hair.

"…So it's permanent? The white?"

Ryusei touched a strand. "You don't like it?"

She made a complicated expression, a mix of annoyance and fluster.

"I didn't say that. I just didn't expect you to turn into some divine silver-haired pretty boy the moment I look away."

"Jealous already?"

Her glare sharpened. "I'm not jealous."

Ryusei tilted his head. "Of course not. The vein on your forehead is just saying hello."

Tsunade slapped a report into his chest. "You're unbearable."

Ryusei placed the papers on her desk and moved behind her chair.

"What are you doing?" she asked, suspicious.

"Helping."

She was about to retort when his hands pressed gently into her shoulders.

A soft breath escaped her before she could stop it.

"…Damn you," she muttered.

"You've been working nonstop," Ryusei said. "You're tense enough to snap."

Tsunade scoffed. "Someone had to clean up Madara's mess. The whole village came in pieces."

"And you put them back together," he said.

Tsunade didn't respond, but her shoulders eased under his hands.

After a moment:

"You're warmer than usual."

"I fused with the Ten Tails," Ryusei said. "Thermal efficiency improved."

"That's not a normal sentence," she muttered.

Ryusei only continued the massage, slow and steady, kneading the stiffness out of her back.

She melted into the chair more than she meant to, biting the inside of her cheek to hide it.

He leaned down slightly.

"You should rest."

She scoffed, flustered. "Don't say it like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you suddenly know what's good for me."

Ryusei's voice stayed calm. "I do."

Tsunade went quiet.

After a few seconds, she spoke again—softer.

"You've come a long way."

Ryusei raised an eyebrow. "Like I finally crawled out of a grave? You think so, too?"

"In a way? You did."

She glanced up at him.

"You were a hunted boy when I dragged you out of that mess across the border. Running for your life. Half-dead. No allies. No one believed you."

Ryusei paused.

Tsunade looked away again, voice low.

"And now… one week ago, you executed every last person who wronged you. Every elder. Every clan and official who enabled them. You flipped the entire situation like it was a story you rewrote by hand."

Ryusei didn't deny it.

"It worked out," he said simply.

Tsunade scoffed. "That's one way to put it."

She studied him again, slower this time.

The calm aura.

The quiet pressure.

The ripple-like glow as his new eyes.

"You're terrifying," she said.

Ryusei smirked. "You say that like it's a compliment."

"It's absolutely not."

She hesitated.

"…Mostly."

Ryusei's fingers slid a bit lower down her back, pressing gently into a knot of tension.

She inhaled sharply.

"That spot hurts?" he asked.

"No. Yes. Shut up."

He continued anyway.

She exhaled, leaning forward slightly, surrendering without admitting it.

Then she spoke again, almost a whisper.

"…And you still chose to come here first."

Ryusei blinked once.

"Where else?" he asked simply.

Tsunade turned her head away immediately, cheeks warming.

"Idiot."

Ryusei's voice stayed dry.

"If this is how you thank me, I'll stop."

Tsunade reached up and grabbed his wrist lightly.

"You won't."

Ryusei paused.

"…No," he admitted. "I won't."

She released his wrist slowly.

After a moment, she glanced back again, her eyes lingering on his new appearance, the white hair, the faint glow, the calm, godlike aura that somehow didn't push her away.

"…You look good," she muttered.

Ryusei smirked.

"You finally said it."

"Don't push your luck."

He only leaned slightly closer.

"I already did."

She flicked his forehead lightly, trying and failing to hide a smile.

"Shut up and keep massaging."

Ryusei obeyed.

And for the first time since the war ended, the room felt light again.

Ryusei kept working the tension out of her shoulders, fingers trailing slowly down her back.

Tsunade's breathing steadied despite her efforts to look annoyed.

"…You're doing that on purpose," she muttered.

"What? Helping?"

"Touching me like that."

Ryusei paused for a moment, then continued exactly the same way.

"So what if I am?"

Tsunade shot him a sideways look, cheeks warming again.

"You've gotten bold."

"You've gotten easy to read."

She clicked her tongue, but she didn't pull away.

Instead, she let her head drop forward, her hair brushing her desk, relaxing under his hands with a soft exhale she tried to hide.

Tsunade let out another long breath, tension in her body melting away.

A different kind of awareness settled in the room, thicker, warmer, almost electric.

Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper.

"…You know, if anyone else walks in on this, they'll assume something."

"Let them," Ryusei said.

The corner of her mouth tugged upward.

"You're dangerous."

"You said that before."

"I meant it."

Ryusei stepped back slightly, hands finally lifting from her shoulders.

She felt their absence immediately.

"…Leaving already?" she asked, trying and failing to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

"Only because you need sleep," he said. "And if I stay longer, you won't get any."

Tsunade's cheeks flared.

"You— You think too highly of yourself."

"Do I?"

She glared, flustered beyond recovery.

"Get out."

Ryusei smirked.

"Rest, Tsunade. I'll come back later."

Tsunade turned her face away, pretending to look at her reports even though she wasn't reading a word.

"…Fine," she muttered. "But don't take too long."

Ryusei opened the door, paused for one final glance at her, then vanished like a breeze through the corridor.

Tsunade's hand drifted to her shoulder, where his touch lingered.

"…Idiot," she whispered softly.

But she was smiling.

...

Ryusei walked through the village streets at a slow, casual pace.

He could've appeared inside the Hokage Building in a fraction of a millisecond, but he didn't.

He chose to walk openly, letting the evening light fall over him as every pair of eyes he passed followed his steps.

Ryusei still remembered what it felt like to walk these same streets with his head down, always pretending, every step shadowed by unseen eyes that judged and whispered.

Now, those same eyes were long gone, systematically buried, one by one, by his own hand.

Maybe it was time that dulled the memory, or maybe he had simply outgrown it. For example, his eyes also weren't the same anymore as when he transmigrated; he now remembered.

No longer narrow and guarded like before, that old reflex had faded quietly with the years.

Now they were now more calm, almond-shaped, gleaming with a strange gray hue, some impossible fusion of Tenseigan and Rinnegan, shaped by the uniqueness of his own body.

Eyes that no longer hid from the world, but ruled over it.

Terrified. Respectful. Reverent.

He'd felt every shade of it from the villagers, and he enjoyed it.

Maybe that was part of the reason he returned to this village in the first place.

Power meant nothing if you sat alone in a cave with it.

It only became real when it existed in comparison, when people reacted to it, when its weight shaped the world around you.

Walking here, like this, made the absurd scale of his strength feel… grounded.

He looked around.

Konoha had already been restored completely.

Buildings rebuilt. Roads cleared.

Not a trace of Madara's destruction left.

That was what happened when a single overwhelming force existed at the top.

People obeyed instantly.

Systems moved smoothly.

No one argued when disobedience meant instantaneous, total erasure.

And with Ryusei's power?

Fixing the village was trivial.

He could rebuild Konoha and improve it in a single day with nothing but a handful of fragment clones branching out from each other.

He had, in fact, done exactly that.

It wasn't surprising that parts of the population feared him.

It wasn't surprising either that others admired him.

A god who rebuilt your home and introduced perfect order was still a god.

He continued forward, hands in his pockets, each step drawing stares and bowed heads. Children hid behind their parents. Older shinobi straightened their backs.

Civilians whispered nervously but didn't look away.

At this point, Orochimaru occupied the Hokage's office.

Officially, he was the Fourth Hokage.

Unofficially, everyone knew who stood higher.

Ryusei wasn't interested in running a village full of civilians.

He had no patience for paperwork, politics, or daily operations.

Let Orochimaru wear the hat.

He enjoyed the title anyway.

But in terms of power?

Everyone in Konoha knew exactly who the alpha was.

For example, he had already moved into the once-abandoned grand Senju estate, once a decaying relic of a forgotten clan, now fully restored under his hand, alive again with light, movement, and loyal attendants.

He also planned to bring Tsunade there eventually, once she finally stopped sleeping in the hospital and was done saving everyone else.

The estate had more than enough room for two, after all, and Ryusei had every intention of filling it properly. The Senju estate needed 'warmth' again, 'life' again… and he already had a few ideas about how to provide both.

The house was restored, the name was restored… now all that remained was to restore the bloodline, preferably the 'old-fashioned' way.

Ryusei smirked at that thought as he still walked up the steps of the Hokage Building, not rushing, not hiding, simply existing.

And the entire structure seemed to grow quieter as he entered.

On his way up to Orochimaru's main office, Ryusei turned a corner and almost walked straight past two familiar figures, Shikaku Nara and Inoichi Yamanaka, both in their mid to late twenties now.

He had been suppressing his aura so completely that they didn't sense him at all.

They were talking casually, half-distracted, probably discussing logistics or the new chain of command.

Then they looked up.

And froze.

Their faces drained of color instantly, turning from casual to ghostly pale in a heartbeat.

Shikaku's cigarette slipped from his mouth.

Inoichi's hand twitched toward a salute that turned into something more like panic.

A beat later, both men dropped to their knees at the exact same time, as if a survival instinct kicked in before rational thought.

"Senju-sama," they said together.

They didn't even dare to call him by his first name.

And the first time since Hashirama's era, the Senju name meant power again.

Ryusei's triumph didn't just crush his enemies; it resurrected a legacy.

The bloodline thought extinct had returned to the throne it once built, and the village that conspired to erase it now bent the knee to its heir.

Every monument, every whisper in Konoha echoed the same truth: the Senju had reclaimed what was theirs.

Their crest flew once more, unburdened by shame, glowing with renewed strength.

The clan, once hunted to extinction, now lived through the man who ruled the world.

Ryusei hadn't only restored their honor, but he had carried it beyond legend and carved their name into eternity.

There were even quiet talks spreading through the village, of Ryusei and Tsunade Senju soon to be married, of heirs to come, of the Senju bloodline truly continuing once more.

Something that Ryusei found quietly amusing, though not far from the truth. In his mind, it was less rumor and more inevitability.

Judging by Tsunade's reactions back at the hospital, and the way she hadn't denied or even addressed these whispers, it was clear enough. That silence of hers, stubborn and telling, was her version of agreement. Typical of her.

Ryusei blinked once, having tuned out Shikaku and Inoichi for a while, his mind wandering instead to the far more appealing repopulation perks that came with marrying Tsunade.

"I'm not the Hokage," he said finally, almost absently.

"We know," Shikaku replied at once, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple, ignoring Ryusei's strangeness. "That's exactly why we knelt."

Ryusei stared at them for a moment, then smirked.

"Relax. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't have time to kneel."

Inoichi nearly fainted.

Ryusei continued walking, but added dryly:

"And be grateful. Your clans survived. Don't pretend you weren't expecting the opposite."

Both men stiffened, eyes widening.

They remembered.

Not only the earth-shaking battle in the sky where Ryusei defeated what most credible rumors were already calling a literal god.

They also remembered very clearly the "public trials" that followed the previous grand battle, which their side convincingly lost, right after Ryusei's group first swaggered into the village.

The ANBU high-ranking officials dragged out.

The old Konoha Council was entirely disbanded.

Every male higher-up from the Sarutobi, Shimura, and the other 'rotten clans' was forced to kneel before the entire village while their crimes were read aloud, then executed on the spot, including the last two elders, Koharu and Homura, who looked like beaten dogs by the end.

Factional manipulation and 'parasitic clique formation'.

Civilian oppression.

Ordering assassinations disguised as missions.

Suppressing other clans.

Turning a blind eye to Nawaki's murder.

Forcing the greatest hero of the previous war into suicide.

They remembered the screams, the shame, the trembling.

The feeling that they were witnessing something otherworldly, judgment, not justice.

And above all, they remembered Ryusei.

Standing there like an avatar of vengeance, calm, unshaken, unmovable.

Far beyond anything human.

Shikaku swallowed.

Inoichi lowered his head further.

The boy they once subcouncisly belittled as a speck now saw them as little more than that.

Ryusei Nishida, whom those elders once towered over like giants, now executed them like livestock, those same figures Shikaku and Inoichi had spent their entire lives bowing to since childhood.

Ryusei glanced back lazily.

"You two should stop looking like you're about to be executed," he said. "It ruins the mood."

They both flinched at the same time.

Ryusei added:

"Stand up. You'll get arthritis before thirty if you keep kneeling every time you see me."

Shikaku rose carefully, still pale.

Inoichi stood just as slowly, eyes down.

Ryusei walked past them, hands in his pockets.

"Don't worry," he said casually as he passed. "If I ever come for you, you'll know. It won't be subtle."

They stiffened again, terrified.

Ryusei didn't look back.

He just smirked.

Then he continued up the hallway toward Orochimaru's office, as if nothing had happened at all.