SON OF HASIRAMA-SENJU

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As Tobirama looked at his nephew, Arata, he sighed. "Thank you," he muttered.

If there was one thing he finally understood, it was that this wasn't just fate's fault—it wasn't just the war's fault. If he kept blaming his wife, Shizuka Sarutobi, then he would be the coward, not her. She needed him. She needed care, love, and support—especially now. And what was he doing? Giving her nothing but silence, sadness… maybe even hatred.

"Uncle," Arata spoke up. "You're going to meet her, right?"

Tobirama nodded. "Yes, Arata. I'll go see her right now."

For the first time in a long while, he felt like he was doing the right thing. He was finally going to face his wife properly. But just as he turned to leave—

"Wait a minute," Arata said.

"Huh? What now?" Tobirama raised a brow.

Arata grinned. "Uncle, don't you think Aunt would like some miso sushi?"

Tobirama, who had been feeling all wise and confident just moments ago, suddenly froze

Yes. Of course. Why didn't he think of that?!

"You're right," Tobirama admitted, sighing. "I should bring her some sushi."

He shook his head. Why do I always forget the small things? Without wasting another second, he hurried to the kitchen in the main Senju compound. Since their clan lived near the river, there was always plenty of fresh fish, meaning… lots of sushi.

Grabbing a generous portion, he nodded to himself. This should be enough. I don't know what she likes most, so I'll just take a bit of everything.

When he returned, Arata was waiting outside.

"Come on, Uncle! Take this to Aunt Shizuka," Arata urged. "I'll also take some for Mom and Dad."

Tobirama glanced at the tray Arata was carrying—dozens of sushi pieces. Well, he wasn't wrong. Hashirama and Mito could eat a lot.

Just as he was about to leave, Arata suddenly stopped him again.

"Ah, Uncle, wait!"

"What now?" Tobirama sighed.

Arata smirked. "This is special sushi. It's only made during important festivals or when something good is about to happen. Like, say… a big meeting with the Uchiha clan about peace?"

Tobirama blinked. "Huh?"

Arata held out another plate—12 pieces of golden-colored sushi. "You can take half. These are for tomorrow's meeting. A good start needs a good meal, right?"

Tobirama stared at him, then smiled widely. This kid… he really thinks ahead.

His heart felt lighter. "Thank you, Arata. First, you make me realize how cowardly I was… and now this. Thank you."

As he took the sushi, Tobirama activated his Body Flicker Technique, disappearing in a flash.

Meanwhile, Arata suddenly heard a ding in his head.

[Host, you have successfully completed a task.]

Arata's eyes widened. [Task Complete: You have received the "Flying Thunder God: Advanced Variant" Jutsu, created by Minato Namikaze.]

"Wait… what?" Arata blinked. Then, before he could even process it, his body instinctively teleported back to his room.

Sitting in a meditative position, he suddenly felt a flood of knowledge entering his mind—how to use the technique, how Minato altered it, how much it had improved.

His lips curled into a smirk.

Not bad. If I get a jutsu like this just by doing small tasks, I don't even need to train to learn them.

He looked at the sushi in his hands. Right. First, food. Then, more training.

With that, he got up and went to find his parents—Mito Uzumaki and Hashirama Senju.

Meanwhile, Tobirama arrived at his compound. His room was right beside Shizuka's. Holding the sushi in his hands, he took a deep breath.

Alright… time to fix things.

With that, he stepped forward.

As Tobirama stood in front of the door, he hesitated. His hand hovered near the handle, but he couldn't bring himself to open it.

He knew how she would react.

After all, he was the one who abandoned her. He was the one who didn't believe her.

She had told them—told everyone—that nothing had happened to her, that no one had hurt her or forced her into anything. But no one believed her. Not the clan, not the elders, not even him.

And now, after all these years… how was he supposed to face her?

Tobirama clenched his fists.

Coward.

His nephew's words echoed in his mind.

He wasn't a coward. He knew now that it wasn't her fault. The real problem was his own blindness. But still… what if she didn't accept him? What if she rejected him the same way he had rejected her?

These thoughts swirled in his mind, but with one final push, he forced himself to open the door.

Inside, a woman sat quietly. She looked about 24, wearing a simple white robe. Her long brown hair fell over her shoulders, and her green eyes—once so bright—were now dull and lifeless. Black marks lay beneath them, showing years of exhaustion.

Tears had dried on her cheeks.

She turned towards the door as it creaked open.

"...Danna-sama?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

At first, she thought it was Sarutobi. But then she saw who it really was.

Tobirama.

Her husband.

She smiled, but there was fear in her eyes.

She loved him—deeply. She always had. But after that incident, after everything… no matter how much she had tried to explain, he had coldly rejected her.

That rejection had shattered her.

And ever since then, she had been afraid. Afraid of his cold gaze. Afraid of his sharp words. Afraid that no matter what she did, he would never look at her the same way again. Tobirama felt his chest tighten. He could see the fear in her eyes. She's scared of me…

He took a deep breath and forced a small, awkward smile.

"Uh… yeah, it's me," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I, uh… brought sushi. You love sushi, right? So… I thought I'd bring you some."

His words came out clumsy, unnatural.

For the first time in his life, Tobirama Senju—the great, cold, prideful shinobi—felt nervous.

Seven years. Seven long years of treating her like a stranger. Now, he had no idea how to suddenly act like a good husband. Slowly, he walked towards her, holding out the sushi. She blinked in surprise, hesitated for a moment, then gently took it from his hands.

For a second, there was silence. Tobirama stood there, staring blankly, unsure of what to say next. Then—

Shizuka smiled.

A real, warm, genuine smile.

It had been eight years since the last time her husband spoke to her like this. Not as a clan leader. Not as a shinobi. But as her Tobirama. She had always loved his prideful nature—even before they married, she admired his strength. Even his usual cold expression never scared her.

But today… today, he felt different.

He felt warmer.

She didn't know why. She didn't know what changed.

But for the first time in years, she felt hope.