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Sasame jolted awake as Tsunade's elbow accidentally jammed into his ribs.
"Wha—?"
"Chakra surge."
Already dressed, Tsunade tied her hair with one hand. "Orochimaru's involved. Stay put."
"I'll—"
The door slammed before he could finish.
Tsunade knew Orochimaru's chakra signature better than anyone—no chance of misidentification.
Orochimaru attacking Konoha?
Must be Obito.
Sasame bolted outside just as a gargantuan serpentine shadow engulfed the street—
Yamata no Jutsu!
Eight massive white snakes coiled skyward, confirming Orochimaru's all-out assault.
[Destiny Alterations Detected]
Orochimaru: +70 pts
Uchiha Obito: +56 pts
Uchiha Itachi: +30 pts
"Over already?"
A Shunshin later, Sasame arrived at the battleground.
Orochimaru and Itachi stood frozen in standoff.
No sign of Obito.
The scene had split into factions—Uchiha clansmen on one side, Konoha forces on the other.
"Explain yourselves."
Hiruzen stepped forward, voice deceptively calm. "Itachi. Orochimaru."
Beneath the politeness simmered fury.
With the Uchiha at their most volatile, Orochimaru's recklessness bordered on treason.
"We encountered the wood-style user from three years ago."
Itachi's monotone cut through the murmurs. "Orochimaru-sama assisted me."
Hiruzen's eyebrows shot up.
This was... unexpected.
But ideal for de-escalation.
"His whereabouts? Any leads on Shisui?"
"Space-time ninjutsu user."
Orochimaru's smirk didn't reach his eyes.
So close to claiming those Mangekyō—until Obito's kamikaze teleportation ruined everything.
Still, biting off a chunk of that modified Zetsu flesh might yield fascinating data...
Hiruzen's jaw tightened.
Space-time abilities explained Shisui's vanishing act.
"Itachi. With me."
As Hiruzen led Itachi away, Fugaku Uchiha's frown deepened.
He'd hoped to confirm if his son had awakened the Mangekyō—that game-changing power.
"Sasame!"
Tsunade pulled him aside. "Why are you—"
"Couldn't sleep without you."
He laced their fingers together, grinning as she nearly combusted from embarrassment.
"Not in public!"
Her hissed whisper only amplified the illicit thrill.
Seizing the moment, Sasame pivoted: "Day off tomorrow?"
"Hah?"
"We've been grinding nonstop." He nudged her shoulder. "Even ninja schools get summer breaks!"
Memories of his bloodied senjutsu training softened her resolve.
"Fine. But I plan—"
"My treat!" Sasame beamed. "Full itinerary!"
Tsunade shrugged. "Deal."
Next Morning
As Tsunade reached for her usual green haori—
"Ah-ah!"
Sasame unsealed a emerald qipao from a scroll.
Tsunade stared.
Then shrugged.
Unlike shy maidens, the Slug Princess honored bargains.
"Turn around."
Five minutes later:
"Done."
Sasame spun—and forgot how to breathe.
The qipao clung to Tsunade's curves like liquid jade, its daring neckline veiled by black lace that amplified rather than concealed.
"Sit."
He guided her to the vanity, producing a hairbrush.
"Since when do you do makeup?"
"Self-taught."
His fingers carded through her golden waves. "There's intimacy in tending to someone you cherish."
Tsunade's reflection smiled.
Cheesy line—but effective.
Sasame gathered her hair into a high side ponytail, twirling it into a blossom-adorned bun.
The effect was startling—softer yet more mature.
"Now tilt your chin up."
At this proximity, he catalogued every detail: the faint scar above her brow, the way her lashes cast feathery shadows when she blinked.
Blush. Lip gloss. A final dusting of pearl powder.
Sasame knelt, rolling sheer black stockings up her calves.
His hands lingered on the plush softness—
THWACK!
"Ow!"
Tsunade's knuckle connected with his skull. "Where'd you learn to be a foot fetishist?!"
Her outrage carried more bafflement than anger—as if this were corruption rather than innate preference.
"I'm not—!" Sasame rubbed his head. "I'm a Tsunade fetishist!"
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