Over the following weeks, two major events shook the shinobi world beyond Konoha's walls.
The first was a decisive victory on the southwestern front.
Konoha's forces not only stopped Sunagakure's advance but drove the enemy out of the Land of Fire. The front line was pushed through the border and forced back into the Land of Rivers.
When the news reached Konoha, the village erupted in celebration.
Lanterns hung outside shops, colorful banners stretched across the main streets, and taverns remained crowded late into the night. Civilians celebrated the returning heroes while children ran through the streets pretending to be famous shinobi from the battlefield.
For the first time since Sunagakure declared war, the pressure hanging over the village seemed to ease.
However, while ordinary villagers celebrated, the atmosphere inside the Hokage Building remained tense.
The second major event had occurred in the north.
Kumogakure launched a sudden assault and occupied the Land of Hot Water.
On the surface, the conflict had nothing to do with Konoha. The Land of Hot Water was an independent nation, and no formal alliance obligated the Land of Fire to defend it.
Geography made the situation far more complicated.
The Land of Hot Water had always served as a buffer between the Land of Lightning and the Land of Fire. Its government maintained closer relations with Konoha, and its territory prevented Kumogakure's armies from approaching the Fire Country's northeastern border directly.
Now that Kumogakure controlled the region, the situation had changed overnight.
The Hidden Cloud could station shinobi near the Land of Fire without crossing another major nation. They could threaten Konoha's trade routes, pressure smaller allied villages, and launch raids across the border whenever they wished.
Takigakure also sent an urgent request for Konoha's assistance. The Hidden Waterfall feared that Kumogakure's expansion would not end with the Land of Hot Water.
Konoha could not ignore the request.
If the village refused to help, its smaller allies would lose confidence and might surrender to Kumogakure's influence. Yet if Konoha intervened too aggressively, the resulting confrontation could escalate into open war with the Hidden Cloud.
Konoha was already fighting Sunagakure.
A second front against Kumogakure would place an enormous strain on the village's shinobi, supplies, and medical resources.
The celebrations in the streets continued, but within the Hokage's office, maps of the northern border had already replaced the reports from the southwest.
The war was expanding.
Against that turbulent background, something equally important occurred within Ren's family.
After enduring multiple surgeries, months of treatment, and a painfully slow recovery, Tajima was finally ready to have his cast removed.
Ren stood inside Tsunade's office with the postoperative assessment report in his hands. He read each line carefully, barely able to contain his excitement.
Tsunade leaned back in her chair.
"That is your father's latest assessment," she said. "The surgeries went well, and his recovery has exceeded our original expectations."
She pointed toward one section of the report.
"At the beginning, I estimated that he had roughly a thirty-percent chance of recovering enough function to walk normally. Based on his current condition, that probability has risen to about seventy percent."
Ren's grip tightened around the papers.
"Seventy percent?"
"Don't celebrate too early." Tsunade's tone remained stern, but the satisfaction in her eyes was impossible to hide. "The coming month is critical. His nerves have begun responding, but we still need to see whether that improvement continues."
She folded her arms.
"If he follows the rehabilitation plan, avoids unnecessary strain, and experiences no complications, he should eventually be able to walk without assistance."
Ren released a breath he had been holding for months.
"That's wonderful. Thank you, Lady Tsunade. Without your surgical plan and guidance, my father might never have reached this point."
"Hmph. Gratitude won't make his recovery any faster." Tsunade tried to appear indifferent, but the corner of her mouth lifted slightly. "Make sure he follows the rehabilitation schedule exactly. Patients who begin improving often become impatient and ruin months of treatment by pushing themselves too hard."
"I'll watch him."
"You had better."
Tsunade's expression changed as she looked at Ren more carefully.
"Speaking of watching people, Rin told me that you've been unusually busy lately."
Ren's heart skipped a beat.
"She said you disappear for hours, come home exhausted, and barely leave yourself enough time to rest." Tsunade narrowed her amber eyes. "What have you been doing? Don't tell me you've secretly started dating someone."
"How did you reach that conclusion?"
"You're at that age."
"I'm not even ten."
"That has never stopped foolish children from doing foolish things."
Ren suppressed the urge to sigh.
"It's nothing like that. Team Minato has been receiving more missions, and I've increased my training. Minato-sensei and Kushina also gave me several books on sealing techniques, so I've been trying to study those whenever I have time."
Everything he said was true.
He had merely omitted the hours spent inside Orochimaru's Research Institute.
Tsunade frowned.
"Is that all?"
Before Ren could answer, she pushed back her chair and walked around the desk. She stopped directly in front of him and leaned down until her eyes were level with his.
The pressure of a legendary Sannin's scrutiny fell over him.
Ren instinctively leaned back.
Tsunade stared into his eyes as though she could drag every hidden secret out of his mind through sheer force of will. For several seconds, neither of them moved.
Ren kept his expression calm.
He reminded himself that working for Orochimaru was not a crime. There was a written contract, the duties were legal, and he intended to show the agreement to Tsunade eventually.
Preferably after she was in a good mood.
Finally, Tsunade straightened.
"Hmph. I'll accept that explanation for now."
Ren noticed the emphasis on for now.
Tsunade returned to her desk but did not sit.
"You've been part of the advanced medical course for roughly half a year, haven't you?"
"Almost."
A senior medic's recommendation had allowed Ren to enter the course, but he had been studying medical ninjutsu for nearly a full year if his earlier foundational training was included.
Tsunade nodded.
"Your practical ability has improved considerably. You've become proficient with the Healing Technique, and your patients consistently recover faster than those treated by most trainees."
Ren's system-enhanced Healing Technique deserved much of the credit. At ninety-nine favorability, its stability and effectiveness were far beyond what an ordinary Genin should possess.
"But don't become arrogant," Tsunade warned. "The hospital is about to become much busier."
Ren's expression grew serious.
"Is this related to the fighting in the north?"
"Partly. We've also received word that a large group of injured shinobi from the southwestern front may be transferred back to Konoha within the next few days."
Her voice became sharper.
"When they arrive, every available medical shinobi will be needed. That includes trainees. You and Rin must remain focused, follow instructions, and avoid making careless mistakes."
"We will."
Tsunade studied him for a moment before allowing her tone to soften.
"If you perform well while treating this group, I might teach you something new once the emergency has passed."
Ren's eyes lit up.
"Something new?"
"It is a special privilege, so don't disappoint me."
Tsunade refused to elaborate. She turned and walked out of the room, the heels of her sandals striking the tiled floor with crisp, decisive clicks.
Ren watched her leave while possibilities raced through his mind.
The Mystical Palm Technique was the most likely reward. It was a higher-level medical ninjutsu capable of treating internal injuries far more effectively than the basic Healing Technique.
There was also a smaller possibility that she intended to begin teaching him chakra-enhanced strength.
Either reward would represent a major improvement.
However, before thinking about Tsunade's promise, Ren had something far more personal to witness.
He found Tajima inside one of the hospital's rehabilitation corridors.
His father stood between a pair of support rails, with a crutch waiting nearby. A medical shinobi remained close enough to catch him if his legs failed.
Tajima's hands gripped the rails.
Sweat covered his forehead despite the cool air.
"Slowly," the medical shinobi instructed. "Don't drag your foot. Lift it, move it forward, and lower your heel first."
Tajima clenched his jaw.
His left leg trembled as he raised it from the floor. The movement was small, clumsy, and clearly painful, but his foot moved forward.
He placed it down.
Then he tried the other leg.
For months, Tajima had been confined to a bed, moved in a wheelchair, or supported by others. Now, for the first time since his injury, both feet supported his weight.
Ren felt his throat tighten.
Tajima took another step.
His knee nearly buckled, but he caught himself against the rail. The medical shinobi reached out, only for Tajima to shake his head.
"I can do it."
He inhaled deeply and forced himself forward.
One step.
Then another.
Every movement required visible effort, yet the joy spreading across his face grew with each one.
Ren could no longer suppress his smile.
"Congratulations, Dad. You can stand on your own feet again!"
Tajima laughed breathlessly.
The sound was filled with relief, disbelief, and months of frustration finally breaking free. He looked down at his legs as though they belonged to someone else.
"I can feel the floor," he whispered. "Ren, I can actually feel it."
The medical shinobi eventually insisted that he stop. Tajima reluctantly accepted the crutch and allowed Ren to guide him toward a bench beside the corridor.
For several minutes, he remained exhilarated.
Then the excitement gradually faded.
Tajima looked down at his injured leg. His hand tightened around the crutch, and uncertainty crept into his expression.
"Being able to walk again is more than I expected," he said quietly. "I should be grateful."
Ren heard the unspoken words.
"But?"
Tajima remained silent for several seconds.
"The doctor told me that even if my leg heals properly, I probably won't be able to serve as a shinobi again."
His voice was calm, but the loss beneath it was unmistakable.
"What am I supposed to do after this?"
For most shinobi, their profession was not merely a way to earn money. It shaped their identity, relationships, and understanding of their own worth.
Tajima had spent his entire adult life accepting missions and protecting Konoha. Now, halfway through his expected lifespan, that life had been taken from him.
Retirement sounded peaceful when it was chosen.
Forced retirement felt like being told that one's usefulness had ended.
Ren sat beside him.
He had anticipated this problem long before the cast was removed.
"How would you feel about opening a small business?"
Tajima turned toward him.
"A business?"
"There's an empty storefront near Ichiraku Ramen. The area gets plenty of foot traffic, especially in the evenings." Ren had clearly considered the details already. "You could open a general store and sell drinks, snacks, household items, and basic supplies for shinobi."
Tajima frowned thoughtfully.
"I don't know anything about running a store."
"You spent years preparing mission supplies. You already know which tools shinobi forget most often, which field rations are worth buying, and which merchants sell poor-quality goods."
"That isn't the same as managing a business."
"No, but you can learn."
Ren leaned forward, growing more enthusiastic.
"I've even developed a product you could sell. While studying pharmacology, I experimented with a sweet carbonated drink made from herbs and fruit syrup. It's refreshing, inexpensive, and safe for children."
Tajima stared at him.
"When did you find time to invent a drink?"
"I manage my schedule very efficiently."
That was not entirely true, but Ren continued before his father could question him.
"We could call it Konoha Fresh Cola. I've already thought of the slogan: Drink Konoha Fresh Cola—and let your chakra shine!"
Tajima repeated the words slowly.
"Konoha Fresh Cola…"
The idea sounded ridiculous.
It also sounded strangely promising.
A small spark of interest appeared in his eyes.
"A general store would be more stable than shinobi work," Tajima admitted. "And I suppose selling a special drink might attract customers."
"If you don't like that idea, you could open a bookstore instead. You could sell books, rent them out, or even write your own."
Tajima shook his head immediately.
"Forget writing. Your father has fought bandits and enemy shinobi, but even I know when something is beyond my ability. What could I possibly write?"
Ren's smile turned mischievous.
"Who says every book needs to be profound? You could write something that doesn't require advanced education."
"Such as?"
Ren leaned closer and lowered his voice.
"Those shameless romance novels adults hide beneath their mattresses."
Tajima inhaled at the wrong moment.
"Pfft—cough! Cough!"
He nearly dropped his crutch as he choked on his own saliva. His face turned bright red, and he hurriedly looked around the corridor to ensure no one had overheard them.
"R-Ren!" he hissed. "What kind of nonsense are you saying? I was a Konoha shinobi! How could I possibly write something so indecent?"
Ren maintained an innocent expression.
"It would probably sell well."
"That isn't the point!"
Tajima's horrified voice echoed down the corridor. Several nurses turned toward them, forcing him to lower his head in embarrassment.
Ren laughed.
A moment later, despite himself, Tajima began laughing too.
The uncertainty in his eyes did not disappear completely, but it loosened its grip. For the first time since his injury, he was no longer thinking only about the life he had lost.
He was imagining what might come next.
Outside the hospital window, the celebrations continued beneath strings of glowing lanterns. Inside, nurses prepared empty beds for the wounded soon to arrive from the front.
Tajima had finally taken his first steps toward a new life—but Ren's own peaceful days were rapidly coming to an end.