Author Note:
Here's the BONUS CHAPTER as promised—thanks for the support, and let's keep this energy going!
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Special Jōnin—by definition—weren't always powerful in conventional terms.
Often, their promotion came not from raw strength, but from mastering specialized techniques suited for certain missions.
Kato Dan was a textbook example.
If you ignored his secret jutsu, he barely scratched the ceiling of Chūnin-level. But his Spiritualization Technique was unique enough to elevate him to Special Jōnin.
Kind of like Uchiha Sasuke during the Five Kage Summit—he wasn't truly Kage-level back then.
More like a top-tier Jōnin who looked a lot stronger thanks to his Mangekyō Sharingan.
But Guts?
Now wielding 10% of Garp's power template, he had no reason to fear a Chūnin without a Kekkei Genkai.
Especially not a careless one.
Kato Dan had barely let his guard down when Guts struck—one hit, and the man was airborne.
Even Tsunade, watching from the side, was visibly shaken.
"This kid... It's only been two months since I saw him last… How is he already this strong?"
She thought. At five years old, she'd been nowhere near this level.
"Let's go," Guts muttered, brushing past Kato Dan without a second glance.
He didn't just look down on Dan anymore. After today, it was outright disgust. Next time they crossed paths, he wouldn't hesitate to knock him flat again.
Kato Dan, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth thanks to the debris that followed the punch, found himself alone by the cemetery—wind whispering through the silence.
They walked for a while, and before either of them realized it, Guts had led Tsunade straight to his home.
It was small. Sparse. A place with no bed, just the barest signs of daily life.
"You know," Tsunade finally broke the silence, her voice softer now.
"You went too far back there. He's still your senior… even if he is an idiot."
She smiled faintly, though her eyes still carried the weight of Nawaki's death.
"He should be thankful I'm not stronger yet,"
Guts replied flatly. "Otherwise, he'd be coughing up more than just blood."
He opened the fridge—empty, aside from the cool hum and the hollow echo inside. He clicked his tongue, annoyed, and pulled out two glasses of water.
Placing one in front of her, he muttered,
"Don't mind the lack of luxury."
Truth was, Guts barely used the place. He usually hunted for food and cooked it on the spot. Water and sleep—those were the only things the house was really good for.
Tsunade looked down at the glass. Then laughed.
It was a soft, genuine sound—her first in a while.
"If you're not gonna drink it, give it back," Guts grumbled, annoyed.
She shook her head with a grin, picked up the glass, and took a sip. Then silence fell again between them.
Thirty seconds passed.
Then—
Grrrrumble—
A loud growl echoed from Guts' stomach.
His face darkened with frustration.
Right. He'd planned to go hunting today—until Tsunade showed up, carrying Nawaki's body.
He hadn't eaten a thing.
Tsunade chuckled again, glancing toward his dusty kitchen.
"Alright, get up," she said suddenly, clapping her hands like a commander.
"We're going shopping. I'm cooking tonight."
Guts blinked. Was she serious?
The way she moved, it almost looked like she was gearing up for battle.
"…You know how to cook?" he asked, squinting.
Given her upbringing—and personality—he had serious doubts.
"Nope," she said proudly. "But hey, first time for everything."
Guts's mouth twitched slightly.
Still, he knew better than to argue. Right now, the most important thing was to keep Tsunade distracted—keep her from sinking too deep into grief. So, he stayed quiet.
And just like that, the odd duo made their way to Konoha's bustling vegetable market.
Under the watchful eyes of curious vendors, Tsunade looked less like a shinobi shopping for dinner and more like a woman venting her emotions through impulse buys.
She tossed vegetables and meat into their basket like she was punishing them for existing.
Half an hour later, the two returned home, arms full of ingredients stacked high like a small mountain.
In front of the kitchen counter, Tsunade slipped on an old apron—one that had belonged to Guts's mother and hadn't been used in years.
He couldn't help but think of those meme-worthy "naked aprons" from the skits he'd seen in his previous life
And speaking of it... well, Tsunade had a similar vibe in this moment—chaotic, proud, and strangely endearing.
"Hey, should I salt the meat before frying it?"
Tsunade asked, staring at a container in her hand with all the confidence of a child in a chemistry lab.
"That's sugar," Guts deadpanned.
She blinked, then shrugged and sprinkled it anyway.
After ruining half their ingredients and causing minor chaos, dinner was finally ready.
Guts, despite not cooking for five years, somehow managed to salvage the situation thanks to muscle memory from his past life.
Tsunade took a bite of the stir-fried beef and raised her eyebrows in genuine surprise.
"Huh. You're actually good at this."
Guts rolled his eyes. "Of course I am."
For the first time in years, he found himself sitting down at the dinner table like a normal person—sharing a meal instead of tearing dried meat by a campfire.
He even reached across occasionally to put more food in Tsunade's bowl without saying a word.
She noticed.
Her eyes softened, though she kept her thoughts to herself.
Dinner stretched on, warm and oddly quiet, lasting nearly an hour.
When they were done, Guts glanced at the time. "So… where do you live? Want me to walk you back?"
"Pfft. You think a Genin drop-out like you needs to escort me?"
Tsunade snorted. But the small smirk tugging at her lips said otherwise. The gesture, though unnecessary, made her heart feel just a bit lighter.
She stretched, her figure perfectly silhouetted in the dim kitchen light.
"It's late. I'll just crash here tonight."
"I'm not sleeping on the couch," Guts replied flatly.
"Hmph, no manners at all," she scoffed, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along.
"Come on. We'll share."
"A-ha?" His face contorted. "Wait—"
Tsunade laughed, giving him a teasing look as her eyes flicked down.
"What? You scared I'll do something to you? Or do you think you'll do something to me?"
She leaned in closer, lips tugged into a grin.
"Tell me, Guts… do you even have that ability?"
She didn't forget to sneak a glance at his lower body as she said it.
Guts's brain promptly short-circuited.
'FUCKING HELL…'
A thousand thoughts raced through his head, but they all boiled down to that single phrase.
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