A knock sounded at the door just as Kitahara Kaede finished his shower.
His hair was still dripping, and he had casually tossed a towel over his head. A dark grey bathrobe was wrapped around his lower half, the belt tied in a loose, careless knot.
'Who on earth is visiting at this hour?'
Without thinking much of it, he twisted the knob and opened the door.
Tsunade was standing there.
She held a cloth bag in her hand, and her hair was loose, falling freely rather than tied in her usual ponytail. She wore a light grey, wide-necked short-sleeved shirt and shorts that revealed her long, shapely legs. On her feet were casual wooden clogs, looking as if she had walked straight over from her own ho.
The two of them locked eyes for a second.
Tsunade's gaze slid down from his face—
Damp hair, a towel draped haphazardly. Water droplets trailed down his neck, sliding along his collarbone and disappearing into the open collar of his bathrobe.
The robe only covered his lower body.
His upper body was entirely bare. He had broad shoulders that tapered down to a lean, toned torso. The contours of his abdominals shifted slightly with every breath, and the sharp V-line of his hips cut downward, vanishing beneath the edge of the fabric.
Tsunade's breath hitched.
Subconsciously, she raised her hand and covered her eyes. However, she left huge gaps between her fingers, her peripheral vision still stealing glances.
'You can't tell when he's wearing ninja gear...'
'When did he... grow into this?'
Tsunade's throat bobbed as she swallowed.
Kitahara Kaede's voice drifted over, laced with amusent.
"If you want to look, just look. You're leaving such big gaps between your fingers—do you think I'm blind?"
Tsunade's face flushed crimson. She snapped her hand down and glared at him.
"Why—why would you open the door dressed like that?!"
"I just finished showering. What else am I supposed to wear?"
Tsunade sniffed. He did indeed sll like he had just bathed—soap mixed with steam and a certain indescribable scent.
Kitahara Kaede leaned against the wall, his tone excessively casual.
"At this hour, who else would co looking for but you?"
With that, he turned to go back inside.
"Co in. I'll go change."
Tsunade stood at the doorway, biting her lip.
'What do you an, "who else but you"?'
'So you knew only I would co, and you still dressed like that? Was that on purpose?'
She kicked off her clogs and stepped over the threshold, her bare feet pressing against the wooden floor of the entryway.
From the inner room ca the sound of soone rummaging through clothes. The bamboo curtain obscured the view, leaving only flickering shadows and indistinct shapes.
Tsunade pursed her lips, her gaze lingering on the curtain for a mont longer.
'I should have looked a few more tis while I had the chance.'
The mont the thought surfaced, a surge of irritation hit the back of her mind, and she almost wanted to slap herself.
'Get a grip!'
Kitahara Kaede stepped out from behind the curtain. He was now wearing a black short-sleeved shirt and long pants. His hair was still half-wet; he gave it a few quick rubs with a towel before tossing the fabric aside.
Tsunade scanned him.
He was covered up.
Even covered up, he looked good.
She cursed herself a third ti in her head and set the cloth bag on the table. Two bottles of sake landed with a heavy and light thud.
Kitahara Kaede looked at the bag, then at her.
"Bad mood?"
Tsunade ignored him. She sat down cross-legged, popped the cork of one bottle, filled the cup in front of him, and pushed it forward.
Kitahara Kaede picked it up and drank.
Only then did Tsunade pour so for herself and take a deep gulp. The liquor was pungent, stinging her throat. She set the cup down, her finger slowly tracing the rim.
"I can't sleep."
Her voice was devoid of emotion.
"Nightmares?"
"I dread of Nawaki." Tsunade's finger paused on the rim. "My head was full of explosions. I ran until I was breathless, but I could never reach him."
She refilled her cup.
"Once I wake up, I can't get back to sleep. It's been like this for several nights."
Kitahara Kaede studied her profile. The candlelight fell across her cheekbones in a thin layer of warmth, but it couldn't hide the dark circles under her eyes. She truly hadn't slept well in days.
"It's clearly just a C-rank mission," Tsunade muttered, taking another drink and hissing as she wiped her lip with the back of her hand. "I don't even know what I'm afraid of."
"Your intuition has always been more accurate than the intel."
Tsunade looked up at him. Kitahara Kaede set down his cup.
"Regarding Nawaki's mission, I applied to be the lead Jōnin for the team."
Tsunade's hand froze mid-air.
"...What did you say?"
"I submitted the application this afternoon. Lord Hiruzen approved it."
Tsunade stared at him for several seconds. Then, slowly, she lowered her head.
Her shoulders slumped entirely—not gradually, but all at once, as if a boulder that had been weighing her down for days had suddenly been lifted.
"When did you—"
"While you were talking to Lord Hiruzen about the mission details, I was already thinking about it."
Kitahara Kaede poured himself another drink.
"Nawaki is my student. This is his first ti traveling far from ho. With leading, I'll be more at ease than anyone."
Tsunade gripped her cup and drained it in one go. When she set it back down, she applied a bit too much force, and the bottom of the cup hit the table with a sharp *clack*.
"Thanks."
"Since when do we say 'thanks' to our own people?"
The corner of Tsunade's mouth curved upward, though she quickly suppressed the smile. However, the sense of relief was impossible to hide. Leaning against the wall, she poured herself another drink, this ti sipping it more slowly.
"Kaede."
"Yeah."
"While you're protecting him..."
She turned her head toward him.
"...make sure you take care of yourself, too."
Kitahara Kaede looked at her. The candle fla flickered, reflecting two tiny sparks of fire in his amber pupils.
"I will."
Tsunade looked away. Now that her mind was at ease, the sake went down much smoother. She began to open up, her conversation flowing freely.
She talked about the Chūnin in the dical Departnt who finally learned basic bandaging after being unable to wrap a simple strip for ages. "He still manages to tie two dead knots just wrapping a finger, but it's an improvent over the three he used to make."
She ntioned a letter Jiraiya had sent from abroad; the handwriting was as ssy as chicken scratches, but there was a pressed flower tucked inside. "Who knows who that was ant for."
Kitahara Kaede listened from across the table, responding occasionally or offering a light laugh.
By the ti the two bottles of sake were empty, Tsunade's talking slowed. She leaned against the wall, her head tilting slightly, her cheeks flushed a soft red that spread from her cheekbones to the tips of her ears.
Kitahara Kaede glanced outside. The sky had turned a very pale shade of grey.
"It's late."
Tsunade humd in response and pushed herself up from the table. Her body swayed. She grabbed the doorfra to steady herself and took a step—but her heel buckled, and her shoulder dipped sideways.
Kitahara Kaede reached out and caught her arm.
"I can walk," Tsunade muttered, trying to shrug him off, but she didn't have the strength.
"If you drink this much and collapse on the road, the whole village will know by tomorrow that the First Hokage's granddaughter was found face-down in a gutter."
"Didn't you say that last—"
"Stay here. You take the bed, and I'll make do with the living room."
He let go of her and pulled a spare thin blanket from the cupboard.
Tsunade stood rooted to the spot, the tips of her ears burning. She opened her mouth—a whirlwind of thoughts racing through her mind—but only managed a small, quiet whisper.
"Who cares."
Her voice was so weak she could barely stand her own tone.
As soon as the words left her lips, she stumbled forward, her body pitching ahead. An arm swept across, catching her firmly around the waist.
Suddenly, her feet left the floor.
With one hand supporting her shoulders and back and the other hooked under her knees, Kitahara Kaede scooped her up in a princess carry. He didn't give her a second chance to refuse.
Tsunade froze.
He was close. Too close.
His body heat radiated through his arm, his chest, and every inch where they touched, an irrational, searing warmth. Her lips were less than two inches from his collarbone; with every breath, she felt as though she were inhaling his warmth.
Her heart felt as if it were being squeezed, beating harder and heavier with every single throb.
She turned her face away, avoiding his gaze, the tips of her ears flushed a deep red.
"...Put down."
Her voice was muffled, and her desire to actually be let go was virtually non-existent.
Kitahara Kaede looked down at her. He saw her burning ears, her tightly pressed lips, and the elegant line of her neck stretched taut as she looked up.
He didn't answer, simply stepping into the bedroom.
Tsunade felt herself being set down, her back sinking into the soft mattress. There was a faint, dry scent lingering in the bedding. It was light, yet it seed to be everywhere.
Her fingers instinctively tightened.
Kaede pulled a thin quilt over her, tucking in the corners.
"Sleep," he said, turning to leave.
Tsunade stared at his retreating figure and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing ca out.
"Lights out."
The bedroom plunged into darkness. The sound of footsteps echoed through the living room, growing more distant. Finally, there was a soft thud—he had lied down on the sofa.
Tsunade rolled over, facing the door. She couldn't see anything in the dark, but she knew he was just on the other side of the wall. Her heart was racing embarrassingly fast, yet her body began to relax bit by bit.
It felt as if she were being enveloped from all sides. Not by hands, nor by a blanket, but by the lingering scent of him that filled the entire room. It felt more secure than her own bed.
Tsunade pulled the quilt up to cover half her face. When he had held her, his heartbeat had been unnervingly steady. She was the only one panicking.
"...Bastard," she whispered, the word barely audible.
A small smile curled her lips. Slowly, her breathing smoothed into a steady rhythm.
***
In the living room, Kitahara Kaede lay on the sofa with a thin blanket draped across his waist. He heard her toss and turn a couple of tis in the next room before she finally fell silent. Her breathing drifted through the wall, light and long.
He closed his eyes.
In a blink, morning arrived. Dawn squeezed through the gaps in the window fra, casting thin white lines across the floor.
Kaede got up and folded his blanket. He walked to the bedroom door, which had been left ajar by a finger's width.
He pushed it open.
Tsunade was curled up in the bedding, her long blonde hair scattered across the pillow. A thin, silver-white chain peeked out from her neck, the blue pendant resting in the hollow of her collarbone, swaying slightly with her breath.
Kaede watched her for a few seconds but did not step closer.
He turned and went to the kitchen. He tore off a piece of mo paper, wrote a few words, and pressed it under a teacup. Then, he picked up the ninja tool pouch hanging by the door and stepped out quietly.
He glanced back toward the bedroom one last ti before leaving. The sound of the door closing was so soft that the person inside didn't even wake from her slumber.
The note was brief:
"There's food in the freezer."
Beneath it, another line:
"Did you sleep well last night?"
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