Adopted by Tsunade [157-158] (R18) (Patreon)

Chapter 157: Susanoo-Plated Great Buddha

"No problem—just protect yourself."

Natsume instinctively wanted to pat Uchiha Mikoto on the head, but noticing outsiders present, he withdrew his hand.

Still, his goal was achieved.

He wanted Mikoto to recognize how formidable this airborne fortress was.

Then, when Natsume took it down himself, the impact on her would be maximal.

One of the classic mindsets in the Shinobi world is reverence for strength.

Those stronger than them receive their devout allegiance or respect.

Mikoto had similar thinking; that's why she was so obedient.

So-called life-saving grace had long since worn off.

Natsume didn't think she would come to like him—he could only conquer with overwhelming power.

The next moment, the fortress catapulted two squads of sky-nin.

They flew above Natsume's group and dropped bombs.

"Careful!"

Uchiha Izumi immediately wove signs.

Fire Release: Phoenix Sage Flower Nail Crimson!

A cluster of fireballs streaked into the sky.

A continuous rumble.

The bombs were triggered by the fireballs, bursting like strings of firecrackers.

From the black smoke, shuriken shot out again.

There were so many it was like a rainstorm, covering Natsume's party.

Natsume didn't move; the other ten Uchiha ninja quickly formed seals to block them.

As both sides exchanged fire, gun barrels extended from the fortress, lobbing shell after shell.

"Fall back!"

The two sky-nin teams quickly withdrew.

The bombs exploded midair before hitting the ground.

Chakra turned into a sky-filling blaze, like nine gigantic roses.

With their combined power, the ground trembled and cracked.

Dust billowed; grass and trees were reduced to ash.

From the central control room, Shinnō watched through a disk switch.

A feral grin spread across his face. He roared, "Die! All of you die! You, and the Five Great Nations as well! Hahaha!"

But the next instant, his smile froze.

When the dust cleared, what remained was a colossal Veritable 1000-Armed Kan'on.

How big?

In front of it, the airborne fortress looked like a small bird.

"Fake! It's all fake!"

Shinnō collapsed to the floor in fright. "Genjutsu! It must be genjutsu! The Uchiha are best at that!"

But the most shocked were Mikoto and the others.

At such close range, they felt their own insignificance, like ants.

The Kan'on pierced into the clouds.

From where they stood, they couldn't take in its full form by looking up.

"You've… got to be kidding, right?"

Mikoto stared blankly, heart pounding.

This is ninjutsu?

A ninjutsu a human could perform?

She had witnessed the mightiest tailed beast—the Nine-Tails—during the rampage.

Its invincible form had left the entire Konoha helpless.

Only at the cost of the Fourth Hokage and his wife had victory been secured.

But the Nine-Tails, for all its massive size, was nothing before the Veritable 1000-Armed Kan'on—one hand could pinch it.

And it had a thousand hands.

Sage Art: Wood Style: True Several Thousand Hands!

Just then, Mikoto sensed a familiar power.

The Mangekyō Sharingan.

Her body trembled.

How did Natsume possess the Uchiha's supreme eyes?

As her thoughts rose, her mind suddenly went blank.

An orange radiance covered the Kan'on, armoring it.

Majestic Attire: Susanoo!

What power was this?

Mikoto unconsciously pressed her thighs together; a glint of infatuation flashed in her eyes.

Power so great it made one shiver—an overwhelming force that could not be resisted.

Natsume stood on one of the Kan'on's hands.

Even though he was the one who summoned it, he was still thrilled.

Susanoo-plated Great Buddha!

He didn't know whether Hashirama and Madara had ever combined powers like this; at least the original story never mentioned it.

How strong was it? He wasn't sure.

But a perfect test subject stood before him.

The Kan'on extended two hands and seized the airborne fortress.

In the control room, Shinnō jolted, snapped back to his senses, and shouted, "Fire! Fire! Fire!"

A gigantic cannon barrel unfolded on the fortress exterior.

Powerful dark chakra gathered and instantly spat a chakra shell, smashing into the Kan'on.

Centered on impact, the chakra shockwave became a hurricane radiating in all directions.

The ground sank; all plants and animals were swept into the storm and mulched.

Water Style: Water Formation Wall!

Earth Style: Earth Flow Wall!

As the aftershock arrived, Izumi and the others unleashed defensive ninjutsu.

Even so, their defenses were quickly broken.

Mikoto cloaked herself in flowing chakra to anchor her body to the ground.

Her two tomoe—no, three tomoe Sharingan—locked hard on Natsume in the distance.

When the dust cleared, the Kan'on was unscathed.

Mikoto's pupils contracted; a tingling thrill raced through her.

How could it be this powerful?

Then her cheeks flushed.

Compared to Natsume, Uchiha Fugaku wasn't worth mentioning.

Not only was his strength lacking, his personality was too soft.

Even at night, he'd be asleep in half an hour.

Natsume, though, seemed like he could keep going until dawn and still be energetic.

Mikoto bit her lip, eyes moist; her three tomoe seemed to tremble.

In the control room, Shinnō was utterly dumbstruck.

The chakra cannon he'd pinned his hopes on—even comparable to a Tailed Beast Bomb—couldn't pierce the enemy's armor.

"Fake… it's all fake!"

He repeated, deranged. He simply couldn't accept what he was seeing.

But the Zero-Tails had not yet absorbed enough dark chakra—no capacity for another shot.

He had one last resort.

Shinnō pressed a switch; a passage opened.

He jumped down.

It was the Zero-Tails' sealing chamber.

The outer walls were inscribed with numerous formulae.

At the center was the Zero-Tails.

A serpentine body and a masked face with the kanji "zero" on its forehead.

Shinnō gritted his teeth and merged with it.

He was no longer human.

Had he not been driven to the brink, he would never have used this move.

Natsume waited a moment, then shook his head.

Looks like it's underpowered.

After a single chakra cannon, it fell into a power deficit.

He leaped to the fortress.

Shisui flickered into view, eyes shining with worship.

The Uchiha only submit to the strong.

Natsume now fit that standard perfectly.

"Where's Shinnō?"

"In the sealing chamber—I saw him merge with the Zero-Tails."

Shisui spoke as he led the way.

Soon, they arrived.

"Pretty big, huh."

Natsume sighed with feeling.

The Zero-Tails, though inferior to the Nine-Tails, was still over ten meters tall at least.

Intimidating to look at.

And it was ugly—like a mud-colored snake.

Shisui's mouth twitched.

I get the logic, but even one finger of the Kan'on is bigger than this thing, right?

Say that, and you're just being mean.

"Damn Uchiha!"

Shinnō's voice rang out.

The giant Zero-Tails moved in accordance with his emotions.

"Your genjutsu can't fool me!"

He raged in self-deception. "Today I'll tear you to pieces!"

With that, countless human arms sprouted from the Zero-Tails and flew at them.

Shisui froze a beat.

This scene seemed familiar.

You copying that Kan'on from just now?

In fact, not really.

Natsume remembered—in the movie, this was indeed the Zero-Tails' attack method.

Quite one-dimensional.

"Don't let it touch you—it absorbs chakra."

Natsume casually warned.

Though the Zero-Tails had limits to absorption, one Shisui alone wasn't enough.

In the movie, it absorbed both Naruto's and Sasuke's chakra, overloaded, and failed.

"Who are you? How do you know all this?"

Shinnō couldn't help but ask again.

He'd roamed the shinobi world for years and had never seen someone like Natsume.

Boundlessly strong.

And he knew the Zero-Tails and the fortress as if omniscient.

Shisui stopped advancing into melee. He formed signs and cast Fire Style.

Fire Style: Great Dragon Fire Technique!

Three fire dragons burst from his mouth, sweeping through the flying arms and igniting them.

Natsume's response was simpler.

He drew the Sword of the Thunder God and, with a few flashes, cut everything down.

"Die! Die, all of you!"

Shinnō raged.

The Zero-Tails unleashed its finisher—its long, massive body coiled to crush them.

Fire Style: Great Dragon Fire Technique!

Shisui used the same move again—

But with more chakra poured in this time.

A dragon only slightly smaller than the Zero-Tails lunged at it.

Just then, a barrier plate appeared before it, blocking the attack.

Shisui's eyes turned; he opened his Mangekyō Sharingan.

Fugaku's ocular power was odd and impractical in battle, but to Shisui, it didn't matter.

After all, he hadn't used Kotoamatsukami either.

"No need to waste your eyes."

Natsume shook his head.

Shisui didn't have Eternal Mangekyō; even with Hashirama cells transplanted, there were side effects.

Natsume formed seals.

Wood Style: Wood Dragon Technique!

A seed, nourished by chakra, swiftly grew into a gigantic wood dragon.

It entangled the Zero-Tails and, in moments, immobilized it.

"Wood Style!"

Shinnō's voice turned shocked.

The earlier Kan'on was Wood Style, but he hadn't seen it before, plus it was armored in Susanoo—nothing about it looked "normal."

The Wood Dragon was more obvious.

In Shinnō's era, Hashirama wasn't so distant; he understood Wood Style's terror.

Like many others, he fell into the misconception that Wood Style itself was what was terrifying, rather than Hashirama.

Had it been Yamato, Shinnō would've been suspicious.

But Natsume once again validated Wood Style's awe.

"What now?"

Ignoring Shinnō's impotent fury, Shisui asked.

"The Zero-Tails feeds on the darkness in people's hearts. Leave it here as nourishment."

Natsume's tone was flat.

As he spoke, a person bulged out from the Zero-Tails—

Shinnō. Without a word, he turned and bolted for the passage.

Being turned into "nourishment" meant certain death. Of course he refused, so he canceled the fusion.

Not without a price.

He reverted from a young man to his elderly form—

Skinny as a rail, looking vile.

"Shisui, restrain him."

Natsume had lured him out; he smiled slightly.

He didn't want Shinnō dead yet—not before he contributed enough.

For example, handing over his medical knowledge and forbidden techniques.

How to present them to Tsunade—now that was a question.

Shisui flashed to block Shinnō's path. Without giving him a chance to speak, he used his Mangekyō to hypnotize him.

Natsume looked to the bound Zero-Tails.

Without Shinnō as a brain, it clearly had little intellect and went dull.

Likely the sealing chamber's doing.

Natsume glanced around at the dense inscriptions, then dispelled the Wood Dragon.

Black cords extended from the walls, dragging the Zero-Tails back to the center.

One has to admit—sealing arts are truly wondrous.

Natsume stroked his chin, thinking where to send the airborne fortress.

Leaving it here was impossible.

The Land of Fire would notice soon.

Best to send it to a remote yet technologically capable nation.

The Land of Snow.

He thought, may as well pack it up together.

He would make the Land of Snow the Heaven's Mandate's secret base thereafter.

Once he became Hokage, even the Land of Fire would be an option—

But that would be too high-profile, impossible to hide from the other four nations.

Then if Natsume steamrolled all at once, it wouldn't be fun.

The Land of Snow lies in the northwest of the shinobi world, in the extreme cold, with perennial snowfall.

It has a daimyo, but the harsh environment keeps the population sparse—ignored by the Five Great Nations.

As a starting point, it's excellent.

They have no shinobi village, but the daimyo has personal ninja.

And their tech is clearly more advanced than other nations—chakra armor, trains, airships—some industrial base.

Reasons are many:

Remote location—no interference, no wars.

Few ninja overall, so they focus on technology.

The harsh environment forced innovation.

The former daimyo, Dotō Kazahana's elder brother, Sōsetsu Kazahana, pursued wonders and technology for his daughter.

He is "former" because the current daimyo is Dotō Kazahana.

He thought the climate machine was a treasure and killed his brother Sosetsu.

But the key is a hexagonal crystal carried by Sosetsu's daughter, Koyuki Kazahana—

So Dotō has been hunting her.

With Kakashi's help back then, Koyuki escaped the Land of Snow and became the actress Yukie Fujikaze.

Yes—this world has films and theaters.

Pretty wild.

Yukie Fujikaze is famous across the shinobi world.

She plays a princess on screen—truly a role close to home.

"Let's head out."

Natsume came back to himself and returned to the surface.

He had already dispelled the Kan'on—

It consumed too much.

He wasn't worried, but the fight was over; time to wrap up.

Izumi and the others gathered around.

Their gazes toward Natsume had changed—more sincerely deferential.

Before the Susanoo-plated Great Buddha, no ninja could remain calm.

Natsume's eyes fell on Mikoto.

She immediately showed humility.

Not bad.

Looks like she understood what true power is.

The Mangekyō Sharingan is only the beginning.

"Should we destroy the fortress?"

Shisui asked.

He thought Natsume hardly needed it.

And it was too big—not exactly portable.

"I'll transport it to the Land of Snow."

Natsume paused. "You take a team there and secure the fortress."

"Are we taking the Land of Snow?"

Shisui had to think for a moment to recall this low-profile nation. "Why not just act directly?"

With Natsume's power, even the Land of Fire couldn't hold out.

So he didn't understand the detour.

"Just do it."

Natsume waved him off, offering no explanation.

He wanted to farm Fate Points.

In that case, Koyuki Kazahana had to be arranged.

Also, the Land of Snow needed a daimyo.

 As for governance, smart as Shisui and Izumi were, letting them run a country might be worse—maybe the place would develop better without them meddling.

 "Right now it's ruled by Dotō Kazahana. If he attacks you, fight him off—but don't pursue."

 Natsume added.

 "Yes!"

 Shisui and Izumi answered in unison with the others.

 "I'll send you to the fortress."

 Natsume extended his hand, teleporting the eleven of them to the fortress with Flying Thunder God Technique, then to the Land of Snow.

 Mikoto did not go. She stayed, obediently awaiting orders.

 "How do you feel?"

 Natsume smiled.

 "Very… strong."

 Mikoto's expression was complicated.

 She knew that even if she awakened the Mangekyō, she could no longer escape Natsume.

 Her future was already set.

 In that moment, she suddenly understood something.

 If you can't resist, submit.

 And her life's purpose was to take revenge on her unfilial son, Itachi.

 Her own situation was trivial in comparison.

 Mikoto's thoughts swirled—self-deception, willing degradation, helplessness.

 "I suddenly want Sasuke to see his mother's reborn self."

 A wicked smile tugged at Natsume's lips.

 "Don't!"

 Mikoto begged at once. "Anything but that—please."

 "I'm soft-hearted."

 Natsume beckoned.

 Mikoto stepped close and let him pat her head.

 "What do you think of this place?"

 Natsume mused. "The scenery's nice—but such damage. With all that noise, people will come soon."

 Mikoto looked puzzled.

 She hadn't grasped his meaning.

 Natsume pinched her cheek and looked her up and down.

 She wore a kimono today—paired with her gentle temperament, she exuded the charm of a virtuous wife.

 Completely different from Tsunade.

 Mikoto immediately understood.

 She pursed her lips, utterly compliant.

The damaged village house loomed behind them, its walls cracked from the battle, roof partially caved in, but still standing amid the serene, snow-dusted landscape. Splintered wood and scattered debris littered the floor, a testament to the chaos that had once raged here.

Natsume's eyes gleamed with intent as he guided Mikoto inside, the door creaking shut behind them.

The air was cool and musty, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and decay, but it only heightened the raw intimacy of the moment. No one would disturb them here—not yet.

The isolation fueled his dominance, and Mikoto's submission.

He didn't waste words. With a firm grip on her wrist, Natsume pulled her close, his hand sliding up to cup the back of her neck.

Mikoto's breath hitched, her body yielding instinctively as he pressed his lips to hers in a demanding kiss.

It was possessive, his tongue invading her mouth with a hunger that left no room for hesitation. She responded tentatively at first, her hands resting on his chest, but soon her compliance deepened into something more— a twisted mix of resignation and reluctant desire, born from her self-imposed surrender.

Natsume's fingers deftly untied the obi of her kimono, letting the fabric slip open like a blooming flower.

The garment pooled at her feet, exposing her pale skin to the chill air. She shivered, not from the cold, but from the intensity of his gaze raking over her body—her full breasts, the curve of her hips, the dark triangle between her thighs. He traced a path down her collarbone with his fingertips, teasing her nipples until they hardened under his touch.

Mikoto gasped, her eyes fluttering shut, a flush creeping across her cheeks. "Natsume..." she whispered, her voice a plea laced with shame.

He pushed her back against the rough wooden wall, the splinters biting into her skin just enough to add a sharp edge to the pleasure.

Kneeling slightly, he lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, his mouth descending to her core. His tongue explored her folds with deliberate strokes, circling her clit and delving inside her wetness.

Mikoto's hands clutched at his hair, her body arching as waves of unwanted ecstasy built within her. She bit her lip to stifle moans, but they escaped anyway—soft, breathless sounds that echoed in the empty house. Her mind screamed at the degradation, the way her body betrayed her resolve, but she couldn't stop it.

Submission was her armor now.

Satisfied with her growing arousal, Natsume stood and shed his own clothes, his erection springing free—thick and insistent.

He positioned himself between her legs, rubbing the tip against her entrance, teasing her until she whimpered. "Beg for it," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative.

Mikoto's eyes met his, filled with a storm of emotions—helplessness, hatred for her own weakness, and a dark thrill. "Please... take me," she murmured, the words tasting like defeat.

With a single, powerful thrust, he entered her, burying himself deep inside her tight warmth.

Mikoto cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as he filled her completely.

He began to move, slow at first, savoring the way her walls clenched around him, then building to a relentless rhythm.

Each thrust drove her back against the wall, the damaged structure creaking in protest.

Natsume's hands roamed her body—one gripping her hip for leverage, the other pinching and twisting her nipple, sending jolts of pain-laced pleasure through her.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, her body responding despite her mind's turmoil.

The friction built, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, mingling with his grunts of exertion.

He shifted their position, turning her around to face the wall. Bending her forward, he entered her from behind, his hands on her waist as he pounded into her with increasing force.

The angle allowed him to hit deeper, brushing against that sensitive spot inside her that made her knees buckle. Mikoto's palms pressed against the splintered wood, her forehead resting there as she surrendered fully. "Harder," she found herself whispering, lost in the haze of sensation, her earlier pleas forgotten.

Natsume obliged, his pace brutal now, the slap of skin against skin filling the air. He reached around to rub her clit in tight circles, pushing her toward the edge.

Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, her body convulsing around him as she moaned his name, waves of ecstasy ripping through her.

The intensity left her trembling, tears pricking at her eyes—not from pain, but from the overwhelming release and the finality of her submission. Natsume followed soon after, thrusting deep one last time before spilling inside her, his grip tightening as he groaned in satisfaction. He held her there for a moment, both of them panting, his seed warm within her.

Finally, he pulled out, a trickle of their combined fluids dripping down her thigh. Mikoto slid to the floor, her kimono forgotten, her body spent and marked by the encounter. Natsume dressed casually, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at her.

Chapter 158: Danzō's Wandering Journey

After spending an hour in the ruins of the Hidden Sky Village, Natsume and Mikoto left.

The scenery was nice, but the earlier battle had spoiled much.

An hour was already a lot—

Especially for Mikoto's frail body.

Exhausted, Mikoto even stumbled and tore her kimono.

Natsume carried her back to the Daimyo's manor in the Land of Waves.

[Because of your actions, Shinnō's fate has changed. You gained 50 Fate Points.]

[Because of your actions, Uchiha Mikoto's fate has changed. You gained 69 Fate Points.]

[Because of your actions, Shimura Danzō's fate has changed. You gained 9 Fate Points.]

Why Danzō?

And only nine? That's stingy.

What's he up to out there?

"Get some rest."

Natsume patted Mikoto's head.

Her hair was smooth—as was she.

"Mm."

Mikoto answered shyly.

After Natsume left, her eyes grew dazed.

Though she had convinced herself, she knew this was a betrayal—

Especially of the late Fugaku.

But that sense of unbound freedom was unprecedented—

As was the sense of strength.

Mikoto raised her head to the setting sun.

After a moment, she lifted her hand to her nose and took a gentle breath.

Familiar scent drained her strength. She lay down and fell asleep.

…

In a nearby office—

Natsume knocked and entered.

"Big brother."

Karin ran over, complaining, "You haven't played with me in so long."

"Where's Tayuya?"

Natsume picked her up. "She didn't keep you company?"

"She did, but she trains every day—too diligent. I feel bad interrupting."

Karin's face suddenly turned serious. "Brother, did you do something? She keeps muttering about you."

"Just muttering?"

Natsume chuckled. "Knowing Tayuya, I don't buy it unless she's cursing."

"She did say some indecorous things."

Karin said primly, "I corrected her."

"Corrected?"

Natsume blinked, curious. "You beat her?"

"Nope."

Karin lifted her chin proudly. "I goaded her into my territory of expertise—reciting the text in full with me."

Good grief.

You've got Tayuya's temperament nailed.

"Smart."

Natsume ruffled her red hair.

Karin purred, smug like a cat, basking in the petting.

"But don't let her rub off on you."

Cursing spreads fast.

In foreign languages, you don't even need to be taught.

How many people know those few lines.

"I won't!"

Karin clenched her fist. "No matter how many words—one punch beats them."

"…"

Natsume was speechless.

Hard to argue with that logic.

Maybe I should worry about Tayuya instead.

In a few years, she might not beat Karin.

Tayuya's best at summoning and sound-based specialty jutsu.

But Karin is learning sealing and taijutsu.

In the original, she even learns Sage Art—

Meaning she has a medic's talent.

But she's still young; no rush.

Sealing and taijutsu are enough to roam the shinobi world.

Natsume worried she lacked peers.

Luckily, after Tayuya came Amaru.

He suddenly realized all three were redheads.

Fate indeed.

"Karin, why are you saying strange things again?"

Uzumaki Hinae set down her work, a bit helpless but mostly fond.

"It's not strange."

Karin made a face. "Brother didn't mind."

Hinae looked at Natsume with eyes that clearly said: You spoiled her.

"I don't see a problem."

Natsume shrugged.

"Brother understands me best!"

Karin cheered.

Hinae sighed and shook her head, but didn't press it.

"How's Amaru now?"

Natsume remembered her strange illness.

Shinnō was arrogant, but his medical skills weren't fake.

He roamed the shinobi world unexposed—he had some real ability.

"No big issue."

Hinae's gaze stayed on Natsume, full of warmth and attachment. "She just keeps wanting to go back to her village."

"We didn't account for that."

Natsume didn't recall the movie's details clearly.

Nor how Amaru felt about her village.

Given his interference, at least Shinnō meant little to her now.

"Then relocate the village here."

Natsume waved grandly.

The Land of Waves lacked people.

Even after absorbing the Land of Whirlpools, still not enough.

Shipping, the bridge, and future marine resource development all needed manpower.

Hinae nodded.

She handled the logistics, but any order of Natsume's—no matter the toil—she didn't mind.

"News from the Hidden Mist."

Hinae picked up a dossier. "Five sea lanes will be cleared next month. Also, the chefs you requested are in place."

Natsume blinked.

He remembered the sea lanes.

But the chefs—he would've forgotten without Hinae.

Speaking of which, he'd kept Mei Terumi waiting quite a while.

"Got it."

Natsume patted Karin's head, eyes on Hinae.

She understood and smiled indulgently.

But Natsume had to return to the Konoha.

As Assistant to the Hokage, he couldn't skip work all day.

Under Hinae and Karin's reluctant gazes, he appeared in his office.

…

Papers had piled up on the desk.

He flipped through them.

The hot topic was Naruto Uzumaki.

The revelation of his identity had stirred much discussion in the Konoha. hearts, reflected in this mirror, shone in different lights.

Let's just say, lack of education looks ignorant.

Natsume considered establishing schools.

But opposition would be huge.

Ninja think it's expensive and unnecessary.

Nobles think you're challenging their power.

The smarter the populace, the harder to rule.

He'd wait until he became Hokage.

Then, the first matter would be the Fire Daimyo.

What Tsunade could manage, he would; what she couldn't, he must.

Not that she's a bad Hokage—just constrained.

And her temperament was lazy.

So Natsume would do it.

After finishing the documents, he didn't summon ANBU; he carried them to the Hokage's office himself.

"Sis, tired?"

He opened the door and found Tsunade resting with eyes closed.

"I'm fine."

Tsunade opened her eyes with a smile. "Put the files on the desk."

"Mm."

He set them down, then noticed a top-secret brief. He picked it up.

In the Konoha, intel had several levels.

The highest could only be viewed by the Hokage.

But Natsume and Tsunade knew each other too well—

They shared everything.

Natsume skimmed and was surprised.

Shimura Danzō.

After leaving the Konoha, he went to the Rain to find Hanzō the Salamander.

Though the outside world didn't know Nagato had killed Hanzō; the village had sealed the news tight.

Other villages' probes vanished without a ripple.

Danzō seeking Hanzō made sense.

Few could help him rise again.

Outside the Five Great, the Rain was likeliest—

Because they had a leader hailed as a demigod: Hanzō.

God is Hashirama.

Demigod—by inference, Hanzō's prestige was immense.

Most famous for defeating the Sannin single-handedly in the Second Great War.

Strictly speaking, he gave them the title "Sannin."

So the title wasn't honor—but shame.

But fame stuck, so the name stayed.

And the more famous the Sannin, the more Hanzō's legend gleamed.

The intel lacked detail.

It only said Danzō sought Hanzō and fled gravely injured.

Go figure—

He didn't die!

Natsume guessed Nagato wasn't ready to expose the Akatsuki yet.

If Danzō, a Konoha defector, died in the Rain, Tsunade would send people to negotiate—at least to reclaim the body.

Corpses reveal too much.

Him living was fine.

He could keep gifting Fate Points.

Where would Wandering Danzō go next?

"After being gravely injured, Danzō's whereabouts are unknown."

Tsunade glanced over. "But it proves Hanzō's blade is still sharp."

She, like others, believed Hanzō still lived.

And Danzō, though flawed, was stronger than most ninja.

Few could defeat and gravely wound him.

Tsunade thinking of Hanzō was natural—

They had fought before; the impression was deep.

"Worried about the Rain?"

Natsume set the file down.

"Since the Second War, the Rain has forbidden entry and exit."

Tsunade nodded, uneasy. "Hanzō isn't the type to sit idle. After all this time, who knows what he's plotting."

Plotting how to be resurrected.

Natsume thought immediately.

Hanzō does show up later—

As an Edo Tensei.

But without his salamander summon, he looked weak—losing to Mifune of the Land of Iron.

Not the least bit "demigod."

Compared to the God of Shinobi Hashirama, "demigod" should be "one-billionth of a god."

Natsume decided not to explain. "Whatever he's plotting, the Konoha's strength is more than enough."

"You don't know how tough Hanzō was."

Tsunade launched into the legend of the Sannin versus Hanzō in the Second War.

 Natsume listened without interrupting, though inwardly reflective.

 She seemed to have let go of the past.

 Otherwise, she wouldn't talk about that war—

 Her brother Nawaki died then,

 In front of Orochimaru, blown apart by explosive tags.

 Such a small tool changed two of the Sannin's paths—

 One stopped being human; the other withdrew in despair.

 "He was indeed formidable."

 Natsume agreed when she finished.

 "Perfunctory."

 Tsunade rolled her eyes—she heard his indifference.

 But with Natsume's power, Hanzō did seem… underwhelming.

 She rolled her eyes playfully. "If you don't like hearing it, I won't say more."

 "No, I like listening."

 Natsume stepped close, gazing at her delicate face. "Whatever you say, I'll listen."

 "Why are you so smooth?"

 Tsunade flicked his forehead. "How many innocent girls have you deceived behind my back?"

 "What? Since when can the Hokage slander people?"

 "She can."

 She kneaded his face with a grin. "That's the Hokage's privilege."

 "Fine."

 Natsume growled playfully. "Just wait—one day, the Hokage's seat will be mine!"

 Tsunade froze, then her face darkened—veins bulging, lips twitching.

 She stood, pinned Natsume to the Hokage's plush chair, rolled up her sleeves, and, face-to-face, said, "That's for later. Right now, I'm teaching you a lesson!"

Their playful wrestling quickly escalated, the air in the office thickening with tension.

Tsunade straddled Natsume's lap, her strong thighs pinning him down against the cushioned seat. She grabbed his wrists, holding them above his head with one hand while her other trailed down his chest, fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt.

Natsume's eyes darkened with desire, a smirk playing on his lips as he tested her grip—not truly trying to break free, but enough to make her press harder.

"You think you can take my seat?" Tsunade whispered huskily, her breath hot against his ear. She ground her hips against him, feeling the growing hardness beneath her.

Natsume groaned, his free hand slipping under her robe to cup her breast, thumb circling her nipple until it peaked. She gasped, releasing his wrists to yank open his pants, freeing his erect cock. It throbbed in her hand as she stroked it firmly, her superhuman strength tempered to a teasing pressure that made him buck upward.

Without breaking eye contact, Tsunade hiked up her own robe, revealing she wore nothing underneath. She positioned herself over him, guiding his length to her entrance. She was already wet, slick with arousal from their banter and the thrill of dominance. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, inch by inch, savoring the stretch as he filled her completely.

Natsume's hands gripped her hips, pulling her down harder until he was buried deep inside her.

They moved together in a rhythm born of raw need—Tsunade riding him with powerful, rolling thrusts, her breasts bouncing with each motion. Natsume thrust up to meet her, one hand kneading her ass while the other tangled in her blonde hair, pulling her down for a fierce kiss. Their tongues battled as fiercely as their bodies, moans muffled against each other's lips.

The chair creaked under the force, but Tsunade's chakra reinforced it subtly, ensuring it held.

Sweat glistened on their skin as the pace quickened.

Natsume's fingers found her clit, rubbing in tight circles that made her clench around him, drawing out low, guttural sounds from her throat.

"Sis," he growled, his voice strained. She responded by slamming down harder, her inner walls pulsing as pleasure built.

Finally, she shattered first, her orgasm crashing over her in waves, body trembling as she cried out his name.

Natsume followed moments later, thrusting deep one last time and spilling inside her with a shuddering release, his grip on her hips bruising but welcome.

They lingered there, panting and entwined, Tsunade's forehead resting against his as the afterglow settled. She activated a subtle barrier seal on the door to muffle any sounds, ensuring their privacy.

As they fought in the Hokage's office, Shizune and Yamanaka Ino were right outside—

 Each holding a stack of files.

 "Shizune, it seems no one's inside."

 Ino knocked, got no reply, and turned to ask.

 "That can't be."

 Shizune knew Tsunade.

 Though lax by nature, she never let personal feelings delay village business.

 She stepped forward and tested the door—sensing a barrier.

 Shizune blinked, then blushed slightly.

 So bold. Aren't they afraid of being discovered?

 "Ino, let's come back tomorrow."

 "Lord Tsunade must've left for the day."

 "Okay."

 Ino nodded, walked a few steps, then asked, "Shizune, why's your face red? Are you unwell?"

 "It's fine. Just warm tonight."

Shizune shifted topics. "You revived the rooster today—that makes you a medical ninja now."

"I'm still far off."

Ino was happy but humble. "If I can reach a tenth of you, I'll be satisfied."

"Your talent isn't worse than mine."

Shizune smiled; the blush faded. "Keep it up, girl."

…

Night fell.

Natsume carried Tsunade home on his back.

Shizune rose from the sofa.

She was about to ask what to cook when Natsume raised a finger—don't talk.

Shizune glanced at Tsunade on his back—fast asleep.

She understood—the Hokage was exhausted.

Natsume laid Tsunade on the bed and didn't wake her.

"Shizune, dinner for two."

He said after leaving the room.

Shizune nodded—face calm until she reached the kitchen, where she let out a breath.

Still, she wondered—Tsunade, with all that stamina, could be this tired?

Soon, dinner began.

With one person missing, it was simple.

Natsume didn't mind; after eating, he told Shizune, then carried Tsunade to bathe—

After such exertion, she was drenched in sweat.

Done, they settled into a rare quiet night.

…

The Land of Snow.

Snow City.

Even at night, lights blazed.

Dotō Kazahana sat on his throne. "That fortress that suddenly appeared in the sky—any findings?"

Kneeling below were his three top retainers:

Nadare Rōga, Fubuki Kakuyoku, and Mizore Fuyukuma.

They were silent.

After a moment, the pink topknot Fubuki spoke. "None of the people we sent returned."

"Completely wiped out?"

Dotō's face darkened. "And the enemy? Didn't they even see the enemy?"

"They lost contact the moment they entered."

Fubuki hesitated. "It's like they were defeated instantly."

"Impossible."

Dotō looked up. "They wore chakra armor—each equal to a jonin. How could they lose so quickly?"

"I don't know."

Fubuki's tone was grave. "Perhaps the fortress has built-in weapons."

Dotō propped his head and pondered.

The fortress's appearance was too strange.

He kept wondering if it was a ninjutsu or some technology.

He'd thought Snow's tech was top in the nations.

Unexpectedly—there's always someone stronger.

"They haven't attacked us yet—perhaps they're waiting for something."

Dotō tapped the throne. "Tomorrow, gather all forces and assault the fortress."

The longer the enemy delayed, the less chance he should give them.

That he understood.

And the longer the fortress hung there, the more it damaged his prestige.

Besides, he wanted the fortress.

"Yes!"

The three answered as one.

"Any trace of Koyuki Kazahana?"

Dotō asked again.

He sought the daimyo's seat only for the "treasure."

The key was the Hexagonal Crystal.

He searched the Land of Snow and found nothing—so the only possibility was the exiled princess.

"No."

Fubuki braced and answered.

"Useless!"

Dotō fumed. "All these years—you can't even find one person?"