Naruto: Marrying Tsunade

Chapter 13 - The Art of Fireball

Where am I?

Why did I end up here for no reason?

Was I dreaming?

No, not really.

More importantly, wasn't it nighttime just moments ago? So why was it broad daylight now?

Aokiji frowned, his breath forming a thin mist in the freezing air. He closed his eyes for a moment, sorting through his memories. The last thing he remembered was practicing the Summoning Technique. He had been attempting to refine the operation, making sure he could use it efficiently. And yet, somehow, he had been transported to this desolate, frozen wasteland.

Something felt off.

Then, a realization struck him.

In the original story, Jiraiya had once used the Summoning Technique and was unexpectedly sent to Mount Myoboku, leading to his fateful encounter with the toads.

But he didn't know about the specifics. Since the details in the original book were vague, Aokiji had no way of recalling the exact conditions under which Jiraiya was transported. Had he unknowingly triggered the same kind of phenomenon?

He felt like he had just been scammed!

But he couldn't even blame Jiraiya.

After all, Jiraiya himself had been unaware of the summoning anomaly until it had happened to him.

Aokiji surveyed his surroundings with a deepening frown. If this was a similar situation, had he been transported to a sacred land? Somewhere like Mount Myoboku or Ryuchi Cave?

No. That wasn't right.

Mount Myoboku, according to his memories, was a lush, serene place filled with vibrant greenery and towering mountains. It was nothing like this cursed landscape—a land of endless white, a frozen hellscape where the air itself felt like it could cut into his skin.

If he had been sent somewhere to train in Sage Arts, he had definitely drawn the short end of the stick.

Then another thought occurred to him.

Why was it daytime here?

He had clearly been in Konoha at night. The only explanation was that this place was tens of thousands of miles away, in an entirely different time zone. The time difference would account for the sudden shift from night to day.

Aokiji sighed, rubbing his gloved hands together to generate warmth. The cold was seeping into his bones, yet oddly enough, he wasn't suffering as much as he should have been. Was it because of his Hyoton—the Ice Release bloodline limit? Did he naturally have some level of resistance to the freezing temperatures?

Even so, that didn't mean he was comfortable.

This place was a death trap.

His first problem was painfully obvious.

How do I get back?

The original series never detailed exactly how Jiraiya made his way back to Konoha after being transported. And without that knowledge, Aokiji had no immediate solution to his current predicament.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself.

"Calm down," he muttered under his breath. "Panicking won't do me any good."

...Though, in a very real sense, he was actually freezing to death.

Since he had arrived here through the Summoning Technique, it stood to reason that there must be summonable creatures native to this place. Perhaps they could help him return.

He wasn't expecting anything grand like Sage Mode training. Right now, he'd be perfectly happy just finding a way back to Konoha in one piece.

But where would he even find one of these creatures?

He considered calling out, but that plan was risky. There was no guarantee that whatever answered his call would be friendly. If he accidentally summoned a beast like Manda—the massive, man-eating serpent—he'd be in deep trouble.

On the other hand, if he wandered aimlessly in search of a summonable creature, he could waste hours, or even days, with no results.

He needed to prepare for the worst-case scenario.

What if he couldn't leave right away?

If that was the case, then his immediate priority was survival.

Aokiji inhaled deeply, his breath turning to mist as he exhaled. The wilderness survival programs he had watched in his past life might actually prove useful here. The first thing he needed was a vantage point. If he could get a high enough perspective, he could assess the terrain and possibly spot signs of life.

His gaze settled on a towering ice peak in the distance.

That would do.

Without wasting another second, he sprinted toward the mountain, his arms swinging fluidly at his sides. Instead of attempting to climb the jagged surface manually, he focused his chakra into his feet. A faint blue glow flickered at his soles as he made contact with the ice, his grip on the surface firm.

This was a simple but invaluable ninja technique—chakra adhesion. It allowed him to traverse vertical surfaces as if they were solid ground.

For some reason, the Ninja Academy never formally taught this skill. Aokiji had always found that strange. But since he had known about it from his past life, he had begun practicing it on his own at a young age, and now it was second nature to him.

Scaling the ice peak took no effort. Within moments, he reached the summit.

The view from the top, however, was far from reassuring.

Aokiji's Sharingan flared to life, the tomoe spinning as his pupils turned crimson. He scanned the horizon, taking in every detail with enhanced clarity.

The more he saw, the worse he felt.

The landscape wasn't just one island. It was an entire archipelago—a series of frozen islands scattered across a vast, icy ocean. There was no visible end to the frigid expanse. No towns, no signs of civilization. Just endless stretches of white and blue.

Aokiji sighed heavily, rubbing his temple.

"So much for walking back to Konoha," he muttered bitterly.

If he wanted to leave, he would need another method. But without a boat, a bridge, or any clue as to where he was, that seemed impossible.

His situation was growing worse by the second.

Would he be stuck here?

For how long?

That unsettling thought sent a shiver down his spine, and this time, it wasn't from the cold.

Just as Aokiji was beginning to feel the weight of his predicament, something in the distance caught his attention.

A patch of white, separate from the snow-covered terrain, moved.

It wasn't the wind shifting ice. It was something alive.

In nature, both predators and prey develop camouflage to blend into their surroundings. The shifting mass in the distance was no exception—it was likely a living creature, moving subtly yet unmistakably against the icy backdrop.

Though its white fur made it nearly invisible to the naked eye, it was nowhere near enough to deceive the heightened perception of the Sharingan.

Aokiji narrowed his eyes, weighing his options. If the creature could speak, he would observe it from a distance, gauging its nature. If it seemed intelligent and approachable, he would try to communicate. But if it was an aggressive beast, massive and dangerous, he would keep his distance.

And if it couldn't talk and appeared weak? Well, then it was just an unfortunate meal waiting to happen.

Survival took precedence now. His natural resistance to the cold, combined with chakra reinforcing his limbs and bones, allowed him to endure the harsh environment for now. But this method had a price—it drained his chakra bit by bit. He needed food to replenish his strength, and if the creature before him was edible, it would serve a dual purpose: its flesh for sustenance, its fur for warmth.

Moving carefully, Aokiji slowed his pace, ensuring he wouldn't alert the creature. Using towering icicles as cover, he advanced with quiet precision. Finally, he got close enough to see the animal in full.

It was a massive, four-legged beast with thick, snow-colored fur, a sharp snout, and menacing fangs.

A polar bear?

The thought immediately crossed his mind, fitting perfectly with the frozen wasteland surrounding him.

At that moment, the bear wasn't paying attention to him. Instead, it was stalking another creature—a seal.

The seal's smooth, grayish skin gleamed slightly under the dim light. Its rounded, chubby body, along with its relaxed posture, made it appear harmless and almost adorable. Completely unaware of the predator looming behind it, the seal remained sprawled out, basking in the momentary warmth of the sun.

Aokiji watched intently.

The polar bear moved with practiced patience, its body blending into the terrain as it crept closer. Every step was careful, deliberate. It was clear this wasn't its first hunt.

Then, without warning—an explosion of movement.

The bear lunged forward with terrifying speed, its large frame betraying the sheer power packed into its muscles. Despite its size, it covered the last hundred meters in seconds.

The seal finally noticed.

Too late.

Before it could even react, the bear's powerful jaws clamped down, fangs sinking deep into soft flesh. A sharp crunch echoed through the icy air, followed by a sickening spray of blood. The seal never had a chance—it died instantly.

The hunt was over.

As the polar bear prepared to enjoy its fresh kill, something made it pause.

An unfamiliar scent.

It looked up, locking eyes with the thin, two-legged figure standing nearby.

Aokiji remained still, watching in return.

The bear, having lived its entire life in this frozen wasteland, had never encountered such a creature before. It studied him, processing the sight before making a simple assessment—

Small.

Fragile.

Killable.

With that conclusion, it bared its teeth.

Aokiji, sensing the shift in tension, raised a hand in a casual greeting.

"Hey, how much for a piece?" he joked.

The bear's response was immediate. It let out a deep, rumbling snarl, its breath misting in the frigid air.

Aokiji sighed.

"Not the answer I was hoping for."

He took a step forward, voice steady. "Listen, I'm not here to fight. My name is Aokiji. I just want to ask a question. What is this place?"

The only response was another guttural roar.

The bear, it seemed, did not understand human speech.

Or it simply didn't care.

Aokiji frowned.

Was it unable to speak, or just choosing not to? If it had intelligence, then there was at least a small chance it might be capable of communication. But judging by its aggressive posture, that possibility was slim.

He barely had time to contemplate further before the bear made its decision.

With another ferocious snarl, it charged.

Aokiji's eyes sharpened, the deep crimson of the Sharingan burning to life.

"Alright," he muttered, shifting his stance. "If that's how it's gonna be…"

There was no hesitation.

His hands moved in a blur, forming seals with practiced precision.

The sequence was flawless, executed as smoothly as flowing water. The moment the last seal was complete, Aokiji inhaled deeply, feeling heat rise within his chest.

Then, with a sharp exhale, he released it all at once.

Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique.

A sphere of roaring flames erupted from his mouth, illuminating the frozen wasteland with its burning glow.