The week leading up to Orochimaru's deadline passed in a blur of agonizing training, heavy drinking, and psychological warfare.
For Naruto, it was hell. He spent every waking hour destroying his hands, trying to force his chakra to pop rubber balls after finally conquering the water balloons. He was exhausted, battered, and running purely on spite and the desire to win the First Hokage's necklace.
For Tsunade, it was a waking nightmare. She drank more than ever, her amber eyes constantly shadowed by the ghosts of Dan and Nawaki. The hemophobia was eating her alive from the inside out, paralyzing her decision-making.
And for ? It was a vacation.
I completely ignored the [Mission 1: The Blood Cured Princess] notification blinking in my peripheral vision. Why bother fixing a broken sink when you already know the protagonist is going to burst through the wall and fix it for you? Naruto's stubborn, unyielding "Will of Fire" and his eventual mastery of the Rasengan were canonically guaranteed to snap Tsunade out of her trauma. There was no need for to reinvent the wheel or risk getting punched through a mountain for playing amateur therapist.
Instead, I focused entirely on the much more rewarding, far more entertaining side-quest.
[Mission 2 Progress: The Attendant's Awakening.]
Over the next five days, my advances on Shizune went from bold to completely, unapologetically shaless.
I systematically broke down her professional walls. If I caught her alone in the inn's hallways, I wouldn't just greet her; I would pin her gently against the wall, my hand resting heavily on her waist, leaning in close enough for my [Pheromone Release] to make her knees weak. I praised her constantly, validating every ounce of effort she put into managing Tsunade's chaotic life.
She was starving for affection, and I fed her an absolute feast.
By day four, the over-the-clothes touches had evolved. When we walked through the market, my hand would slip beneath the outer layer of her dark kimono, my fingers trailing along the bare, sensitive skin of her lower back. She would jump, her face flushing crimson, but she never once told to stop. She was addicted to the validation, the danger, and the electric jolts of my [Golden Finger] passive.
By day six—the night before Tsunade was supposed to et Orochimaru—I decided it was ti to collect.
The atmosphere at the dinner table was incredibly tense.
Tsunade was silently downing her fifth jug of sake, staring blankly at the wall. Jiraiya was watching her like a hawk, completely sober for once, knowing tomorrow was the tipping point. Naruto was face-down in his empty ran bowl, snoring loudly, his hands wrapped in bloody bandages from his Rasengan training.
I was sitting at the low wooden table directly next to Shizune.
Shizune was trying to maintain a facade of professional calm, sipping her tea and occasionally casting worried glances at her master. But her breathing was shallow. She knew I was sitting just inches away, and the anticipation was practically vibrating off her skin.
Let's see how good your poker face really is, I smirked inwardly.
I casually dropped my left hand off the table, letting it fall into my lap beneath the long, obscuring drape of the tablecloth.
I shifted closer to Shizune. My hand slid across the tatami mat and found her thigh.
Shizune stiffened instantly, her teacup rattling slightly against its saucer.
I didn't stop there. I slid my hand up her leg, pushing past the hem of her dark kimono. The skin of her inner thigh was incredibly soft, and burning hot. I traced a slow, agonizing circle just above her knee, my fingers inching higher with every passing second.
"Tsunade," Jiraiya broke the silence, his voice low and serious. "Tomorrow is the deadline. Whatever you decide... I hope you rember who you are."
"Don't lecture , Jiraiya," Tsunade snapped back, slamming her cup down. "I know exactly who I am."
Beneath the table, my hand bypassed her thigh completely. I slipped my fingers past the edge of her silken undergarnts.
She was already drenched. Just sitting next to for the last hour, anticipating my touch, had turned her into a slick, needy ss.
Shizune let out a sharp, sudden gasp, her eyes going wide.
"What is it, Shizune?" Tsunade asked, her sharp amber eyes snapping toward her assistant.
Shizune panicked, her face instantly turning the color of a ripe tomato. "I-I bit my tongue! It's nothing, Tsunade-sama! The tea is just a little hot!"
"Drink so water," Tsunade grumbled, turning her attention back to her sake.
I grinned wickedly, looking straight ahead as I slid two fingers directly into Shizune's dripping, swollen slit.
[Passive Skill: Golden Finger - Maximum Output.]
Shizune bit her lip so hard it almost bled. The sheer, concentrated euphoria shooting from my fingers directly into her nervous system was completely overwhelming. I curled my fingers upward, hitting her G-spot with brutal, calculated precision.
Squish. Squelch.
I moved my fingers in a slow, agonizingly deep rhythm, perfectly masked by the heavy tablecloth and the tense argunt happening across the table.
"You think this is easy?" Tsunade was yelling at Jiraiya now, slamming her fist on the table. "You think I want to see that snake's face?!"
I picked up my own teacup with my free right hand, taking a slow sip. Beneath the table, I increased my speed, my thumb finding her swollen clit and rubbing it relentlessly.
Shizune's entire body was trembling. She squeezed her thighs together, trying to muffle the wet sounds of my fingers sliding in and out of her, but it only created more friction. Her dark eyes were hazy, locked onto her empty plate, completely disconnected from the conversation happening two feet away. She was entirely at my rcy, being pushed to the absolute edge while sitting right next to the legendary Sannin she had served her entire life.
The sheer taboo of the situation was a massive aphrodisiac for both of us.
"I'm close," she mouthed silently, looking at from the corner of her eye, pleading with a mix of desperation and sheer embarrassnt.
I didn't show rcy. I hooked my fingers deep inside her and pressed hard against her sensitive bundle of nerves, holding it there while vibrating my hand slightly with chakra.
Shizune's back arched rigidly. A silent, violent orgasm ripped through her body. Her inner walls clamped down on my fingers like a vise, spasming uncontrollably as thick, hot juices flooded my hand. A tiny, muffled whimper escaped her lips, completely drowned out by Naruto loudly snoring into his bowl.
I let her ride out the climax for a few seconds before slowly sliding my slick fingers out of her soaking wet folds.
I casually wiped my hand on a napkin under the table, then brought it back up to rest on the wood, as if I hadn't just completely ruined her professional composure.
"Well," I said loudly, interrupting Tsunade and Jiraiya's glaring contest. "This tension is terrible for my digestion. I'm going to bed."
I stood up, adjusting my collar. I looked down at Shizune, whose face was still flushed a deep, post-orgasmic pink, her chest heaving slightly as she tried to catch her breath.
"Goodnight, Shizune-san," I offered her a polite, devastatingly innocent smile. "Try to get so rest. Tomorrow is going to be a very big day."
"G-Goodnight, Kenji-kun," she squeaked, refusing to make eye contact with , her legs still trembling under the table.
[System Notification]
[Mission 2 Progress: The Attendant's Awakening - COMPLETE.]
[Shizune's Favorability: MAX (Corrupted / Completely Devoted).]
[Reward: 2,500 SP, 'Elixir of Youth' (Recipe), Unrestricted access to Tsunade's inner circle.]
I walked out of the dining room, the system chis singing in my ears.
Step one is finished, I thought, pulling up my inventory as I headed down the hall. The assistant has fallen. Now, all that's left is for the Hokage plot to wrap itself up, and the main prize will be ripe for the picking.
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