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To Be Hokage	By : MrVectorPath Category: Naruto > General Views: 126967 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 26
- 27
Thank you to my discord server members for their valuable feedback and suggestions. I hope you like some of them being taken into account.

Posted on
Oct 21, 2025
Sorry for the delay
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Without further Ado, here is the next chapter of To Be Hokage.
AN at end

To Be Hokage - Chapter 27 : The Cracks Appear

The private negotiation chamber was tastefully decorated in the traditional style, stone walls adorned with crimson drapery, golden trim lacing the edges, and scrollwork inscribed with the Daimyo's clan emblem. A low, circular table sat in the center, surrounded by six ornate floor cushions. Beneath the surface pleasantries and ceremonial tea trays, however, the atmosphere simmered with something far more illicit.
Kushina sat not on her own cushion, but directly on Lord Daichi’s lap.
She had long since lost control of the arrangement.
At first, she had merely stood beside the nobles, answering questions, presenting Konoha’s offers in her practiced political tone. But as the talks “intensified,” so did the nobles’ insistence that things be handled more… personally. Daichi had offered a seat. She declined. He insisted. Politely. With a grin.
Now her legs were parted over his thighs, her back straight, arms resting on the table as if she were still a diplomat. But beneath the curve of the table and the thin veil of silk flaps from her purple Qipao, Daichi’s hand had slipped inside her white shorts.
The room buzzed with quiet conversation.
"Regarding export quotas on chakra-treated fabrics…" began one noble from across the table, unfurling a scroll. "We’re willing to allow direct market access to Leaf Village suppliers, but only if the intermediary tax is halved."
Kushina nodded slowly. Her eyes remained locked on the speaker. She willed her body to remain still, to breathe evenly.
Daichi’s fingers glided along the inside of her thigh.
His hand was already deep beneath her shorts. He hadn’t rushed. That was never his style. First, it had been the innocent brush of his knuckles, resting on the inside of her leg. Then, fingers moving inward, inching beneath the curve of her ass, curling upward. Now, two fingers were slipping slowly along the folds of her pussy.
She clenched.
Her inner lips were already swollen, slick from a combination of humiliation and twisted arousal. She cursed her traitorous body. His fingers rubbed along her slit in slow, vertical motions, smearing her juices with every pass. Her clit pulsed, barely hidden by the swollen hood, the sensitivity unbearable under such measured teasing.
"And what of the seasonal grain tribute?" another noble asked, adjusting his seat slightly to look more directly at her. "It’s been historically set at six tons per quarter, but the Hokage’s proposal seems to suggest… a favor in lieu of weight?"
She almost answered. Almost.
But Daichi’s fingers pressed harder, rubbing along her entrance without pushing in, then curling just enough to nudge at the rim of her hole. Her pussy throbbed at the contact.
She held her breath, lips tight, fighting the twitch in her hips.
The nobles barely glanced down. Their eyes remained on her face contorted by the effort to maintain some composure or on her chest perfectly contoured inside her qipao, but never once acknowledged the obscene truth just under the table.
Daichi’s free hand slid under her Qipao flap again, covering her breast. He rubbed her nipple slowly, rolling it between thumb and forefinger. The dual assault made her back arch a centimeter, just enough for him to notice.
He leaned in, his breath brushing her ear.
"You’re getting wetter by the second," he murmured. "Is it the diplomacy that excites you? Or the fact that being touched while you’re supposed to be negotiating makes you wet yourself?"
She inhaled sharply through her nose.
Her pussy clenched again. His fingers finally pressed in, just enough to sink past her lips.
"Uhh, "
She barely caught it.
The breathy, strangled sound nearly escaped, and she turned it into a cough, hiding behind her hand. But Daichi knew. His fingers twisted slowly, curling upward.
Her pussy gripped his digits like a reflex, and a gush of slick coated them. Her walls fluttered from the inside, soft and wet and too sensitive. Her legs trembled as her muscles fought to stay still, but the waves were already building.
She swallowed hard.
Across the table, one of the nobles laughed lightly. "If we’re being honest, Daichi’s been rather quiet. Usually he’s quite vocal about trade quotas."
“Haha, it's true.” Commented another noble with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “Perhaps our dear lovely deputy Hokage of Konoha is too distracting to be able to concentrate?”.
"Oh, I’m listening intently," Daichi said smoothly. "Just… multitasking."
He punctuated the word with a sudden curl of his fingers inside her.
Her body seized.
A high-pitched gasp broke from her lips before she could stop it. Her hand flew to her mouth, but the moan had already slipped out, shaky, soft, humiliatingly feminine.
"Mnn-hh…!"
She felt it hit. The orgasm.
It wasn’t explosive, it was the shameful, tight kind. A quiet, pulsing release that made her pussy clamp down around Daichi’s fingers, her body shivering as warmth spread through her. Her wetness coated his fingers in thick drips, a mix of heat and liquid arousal that spread slickly between her thighs and onto the fabric of her shorts.
He let her ride it, didn’t move too fast, just circled gently as she twitched in his lap.
She bit her bottom lip so hard it almost bled.
"She’s trembling," one noble noted aloud with a wicked smile. "Is Yondaime Hokage’s wife unwell?"
"Perhaps she needs to be… unburdened," another joked.
A few low laughs echoed around the room, some pretending to remain focused on the scrolls, others now openly watching her, gaze drifting to the curve of her thighs.
Daichi’s hand withdrew slowly, glistening with her juices.
And then he shifted again.
She didn’t understand what he was doing at first, until she felt the waistband of her shorts being pulled.
She froze.
Kushina’s heart skipped a beat as she felt Daichi’s fingers slip under the waistband of her white shorts, now soaked through from her earlier climax. The elastic tensed for a moment, then gave way as he began to peel them down over her hips.
Her breath caught.
Her hand instinctively reached for his wrist, fingers wrapping tightly around him.
“That’s not necessary,” she whispered through gritted teeth, voice low enough not to disturb the facade of the meeting. She couldn’t let him go further. Not in front of all of them. Not like this.
Daichi didn’t stop.
He paused only briefly to speak, tilting his head with an amused smirk. “You’ve let me touch everywhere else, Kushina-san. What’s the difference now?”
She clenched her jaw. Her nails dug into his skin.
But then she heard it.
Another noble chuckled, amused. “Honestly, what modesty is there left to preserve?”
“She’s already soaked her shorts,” another added, his voice light, sarcastic. “Seems cruel to make her stew in them.”
Kushina’s hand trembled.
She could fight. She could lash out, bring the table to ruin, even draw blood.
But if she did, everything would collapse.
The trade pact. The supply lines. The promise she made to Konoha.
So, slowly, shamefully, her hand released his wrist.
She didn’t say a word as Daichi pulled the shorts lower, easing them down her hips, past her thighs, dragging the soaked cloth over her trembling legs. Her cunt glistened between her parted thighs, the red folds of her pussy exposed to the open air as the Qipao flaps slid slightly apart.
Her shorts dangled off one ankle under the table like a forgotten garment.
And the room changed.
The conversation didn’t stop, but the tone shifted.
Even as one noble gestured toward a scroll, commenting on timber quotas, "We'd agree to 8,000 cuts per season, but not without guarantees of replanting rights. We can expect Konoha to accept that, right?",
The nobles' eyes were no longer on the parchment.
They were on her, attentive to her unstable and shaky posture, which seemed to struggle to form answers.
“I...”
“In addition, regarding Konoha’s military presence. It may have been acceptable in the past, but in these times of peace, we believe it is excessive. If you wish for it to remain, then we propose that export tariffs to the Land of Fire be increased from 10% to 35%.”
“Thirty-five percent!? That would be... mmh.” Kushina shuddered and lowered her gaze due to the constant provocations under the table.
"There is also the matter of strengthening the alliance between our nations. We are not entirely certain, and there are those who lack confidence in the current agreements. Fortunately, however, one of our nobles resides in the capital of the Land of Fire through a political marriage. If Konoha were to support him in gaining entry to the court of the Fire Daimyo and allow him some influence, it would be seen as a great gesture of goodwill and would greatly strengthen our relations. What do you say, Kushina-san?"
“...” Kushina pressed her lips together, afraid that if she opened them, an embarrassing sound might escape.
Daichi placed a hand on her inner thigh, staining it with traces of her own feminine honey and spreading her legs wider. Her Qipao hiked further up, leaving her pussy in plain view.
The folds were flushed. Her clit peeked out. Slick glistening between her lips.
"Red as her hair," someone whispered.
"She’s already wet again."
“Is that… leaking down her thigh?”
Kushina’s body shook. Her arms were stiff at her sides, nails biting into her palms in outrage, trying to focus, trying to breathe normally. But her body wouldn’t listen.
She was pulsing again. Her pussy swollen, heat flooding her core.
And Daichi wasn’t done.
His fingers returned, without preamble, without teasing this time. He slid them into her, slick noises sounding louder than they should’ve in the echoing silence between voices.
Her eyes widened.
"Ah, hnn…!"
Another moan uncontrollable.
Short, trembling, caught halfway in her throat.
Daichi curled his fingers, slow but precise, rubbing against her inner walls with practiced confidence. Her pussy responded instantly, wrapping around him, juice coating his fingers as he pumped in and out.
The discussion continued around her.
“I still want written protection for our trade fleets,” one noble said absently, fingers tapping on the scroll in front of him. “Especially if Konoha wants to move chakra weaponry along the northern routes.”
“I’m sure she’ll agree,” another murmured, his gaze firmly on her spread thighs. “She seems… quite compliant.”
A ripple of laughter followed which Kushina, powerless, could not answer.
Daichi pushed deeper.
Her hips jerked forward without meaning to, back arching slightly as the pressure built again. Her thighs trembled, her cunt gushing around his fingers now, thick slick coating his palm.
She couldn’t hold it.
Couldn’t bite it back.
She came again.
"Ah, ahh…!"
The cry tore from her throat, sharp, wet, broken.
Her pussy clenched around his fingers, her juices gushing out in humiliating waves. It dripped onto the cushion beneath her, down Daichi’s wrist, across her inner thighs.
The nobles watched the exotic spectacle, expressions ranging from amused to leering.
Daichi withdrew his fingers slowly, letting the last of her slick trail after them, strings of it clinging between her lips.

Daichi withdrew his fingers from her pussy slowly, savoring the glide of wetness that clung to his skin. Thick, glistening juices trailed after him, a string of slick connecting her twitching lips to his fingertips before it broke and fell across her inner thigh. Kushina’s breath hitched again, her whole body pulsing in the aftermath.
He didn’t hide his hand.
He raised it.
High enough for all the nobles to see as if he were someone showing off some kind of trophy..
Two fingers coated in her slick, shining under the lamplight of the chamber.
"Trade negotiations are always more engaging when the other party is… honest," he said casually, voice loud enough to be heard clearly across the table.
There was a pause, and then a wave of soft laughter rolled through the room.
"Look at that shine," one noble murmured.
"She’s soaked all the way through," said another. "And here I thought she was trying to play dignified."
"I’ve never seen a woman so wet from talking about grain tariffs," a younger voice added, amused.
Daichi smirked, twisting his fingers slightly to make the slick shimmer.
Kushina could barely lift her head. Her lips parted, her chest rising and falling with every short, embarrassed breath. Her cunt still pulsed in the open air, dripping with proof she couldn’t deny.
Then, with slow deliberation, Daichi reached forward.
He took one hand and grasped the left flap of her Qipao, lifting it and folding it aside.
Then the right.
The silk fluttered back, and she was spread completely open, legs still parted on his lap, pussy bare and flushed, inner lips glistening red with arousal. Her clit stood out, still swollen, twitching with each residual throb of sensation.
The nobles all looked.
No one pretended otherwise now.
There were no scrolls being read, no more talk of tariffs for the moment. Just eyes, hungry, amused, critical, locked on her exposed sex.
"Hn. She’s redder than the Daimyo-sama’s seal," one noble muttered with a grin.
"You missed a drip," another commented lazily, pointing at the slow trail of fluid making its way down her inner thigh.
"Careful, Daichi. She might get the cushion pregnant," came a mocking laugh.
Kushina’s fists clenched in her lap, her nails biting into her own skin. But she didn’t move. She couldn’t, not without making it worse.
Daichi lowered his hand to her thigh again, stroking her slowly like one might a pet being presented.
And then, he looked at her shorts.
The wet cotton still hung from her ankle, already darkened from her first orgasm. They were partially twisted, already dark from her earlier release.
He reached down and lifted them gently.
Kushina watched in dread.

Daichi held the crumpled white shorts in his hand, turning them once to inspect the dark patch already soaking the center. The once-pristine cotton was now visibly stained, tainted with the proof of her helpless arousal, her body’s betrayal. Her breath came in soft, broken pants, chest rising and falling as she stared down at the damp fabric in his hand. He then cleaned his fingers and smirked And then, he pressed it against her pussy.
"Ah, !" she gasped, her hips flinching at the sudden contact.
The cool, wet fabric met her overheated skin, rubbing directly against her slick folds. Her cunt was still twitching from the last orgasm, her walls sensitive, raw, trembling. She tried to close her legs, but Daichi’s hand on her thigh held her wide open, exposing everything.
He didn’t clean her gently.
He wiped her slowly.
Deliberately.
The shorts dragged along her slit, smearing her own juices further across her skin, rubbing them into her pussy lips. The cotton bunched slightly, pressing in between the folds, sliding up to brush directly over her clit with just enough pressure to make her twitch violently.
"Mmn, nnhh...!" she whimpered, clenching her toes and hands balling into fists at her sides.
Daichi circled once, then twice, letting the cloth part her folds just slightly as he wiped deeper. It wasn’t just wiping anymore, it was rubbing, teasing her overstimulated cunt with the soaked shorts that had once been her only cover. The stain darkened with each pass.
"Look at that," one noble muttered with a grin, watching the scene without shame. "She’s getting it on both sides now."
"Thorough, aren’t you, Daichi?" another added, raising his cup. "She’ll be spotless before we’re done."
Daichi smirked softly, dipping the cloth lower, running it across the slick skin just beneath her pussy, collecting the trail that had dripped from her earlier climax.
"Can’t have her dripping all over the cushion," he murmured.
Kushina trembled violently as the cloth rubbed against her entrance again, this time firmer, pressing in like a tongue, rolling just inside the edge of her pussy lips before he pulled it back out with a soft, slick noise.
She was breathing fast now, barely able to contain herself. Her thighs kept trying to close, twitching and failing as Daichi continued.
Another pass.
The cloth ran directly over her clit, slower this time, and she let out a sharp gasp, her hands flying to grip the edge of the table in front of her.
"Ahh, stop, stop, " she whispered, voice cracking.
"You're still leaking," Daichi replied quietly, almost kindly. "If I don’t finish, it’ll just soak through again."
He folded the shorts and rubbed again, this time letting the edge press deep into the groove of her pussy. It slipped between the lips, collecting every drop, spreading the scent of her arousal into the room like perfume.
Another noble leaned forward, gaze locked on her exposed sex. "Red as a ripe plum," he said, amused. "And that shine… gods. No wonder she’s been so persuasive."
"Persuasive is one word," came another voice. "I’d say… accommodating."
Laughter rippled again.
Kushina’s face was burning. Her heart pounded against her chest like a drum. She didn’t know if she was crying, or if it was just the rush of shame and sensation blurring everything around her.
Daichi finally pulled the cloth away.
The shorts, her own, were now ruined.
The dark stain stretched from crotch to seam, an unmistakable blot of her juices, her desire, her surrender.
He lifted them, holding them up for the nobles to see. One leaned closer, inspecting the wet fabric.
"A perfect imprint," Daichi murmured.
Then, without hesitation, he tossed the ruined shorts across the table. Another noble caught them with a single hand, brought them to his face, and inhaled slowly.
"Mmm. She smells like honey and desperation."
Kushina closed her eyes, trembling.
Her pussy still twitched beneath the table, bare, uncovered, sensitive beyond reason.
And they hadn’t even finished discussing military exports.
"Now," one of the older nobles said casually, folding his hands, "about the steel-for-chakra trade ratio. I believe we were hoping to renegotiate that exchange in light of… Konoha’s recent openness."
The word hung in the air.
She didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Not yet.
She would answer, because she had no choice.
Because she was still on Daichi’s lap, bare, open, and leaking.
Because her ruined shorts sat on the trade table like a signed agreement.
And because she was Hokage’s wife.
She had come here to seal a deal.
And now, she was the seal.
Mikoto's eyes snapped open as she bolted upright in bed, her breath catching in her throat.
She looked around, finding herself in her own room, with the nightly moonlight filtering through the window. “A dream... it was just a dream” Though for Mikoto nightmare was a better description.
She checked her side, where her husband Fugaku was absent. Most likely busy with his work or something else, again.
Relieved that she didn't have to answer questions about her over-jumping, Mikoto calmed her heart and went back to bed, though unable to go back to sleep as easily.
"No... that can’t be. No way Kushina was held like that... or was she?" the thought gripped her, a cold ghostly shiver running down her spine.
She stared ahead, heart racing, struggling to separate the fragments of the dream from waking reality.
"No way... The Kushina I know couldn’t be held by anyone like that. No one could overpower her...not like that."
But the dream felt so real. So vivid. So deeply unsettling. The image of Kushina being made to do things, vulnerable, her body exposed and trembling in a position Mikoto couldn’t get out of her mind...it clawed at the edges of her sanity.
And yet... a part of her knew. The dream didn’t come from nowhere.
The memory flashed...yesterday, when she had noticed the faint stain on Kushina’s hot pants, the same one she saw in dream. She hadn’t said anything at the time, choosing instead to tease her, laugh it off.
But now, in the wake of the dream, Mikoto’s subconscious fears were laid bare. Her mind had connected the dots which weren't even there when she hadn’t consciously allowed herself to think about it.
Her dream was the voice of something buried deeper...a fear that maybe, somehow, Kushina had been compromised. That something had happened.
But Mikoto quickly shook her head.
Kushina would never willingly be with another man. Not while Minato still lived in her heart. Not the Kushina she knew. And no one would be able to subdue her like that. She would rather die than be in such state
Which meant the dream wasn’t born from jealousy or suspicion...but from fear.
A fear that her friend had been blackmailed, forced, used. A fear that her prize was looted by someone else. Like she had been cucked out. She shook her head but Mikoto couldn’t shake the images from the dream.

--------TBH--------TBH--------TBH--------TBH-------

The morning mist still clung lightly to the training fields when Kushina arrived at Training Field Sixteen, the familiar crunch of gravel under her boots grounding her. It was just past 5 a.m., the sky still tinged with gray, and she was already eager to get this session over with...not just because she hated unnecessary delays, but because she needed time afterward to help prepare the kids for the academy. She was dressed sharply in her traditional jonin outfit: a dark flak jacket snug over her crimson tunic, her signature long red hair tied high into a practical yet striking ponytail.
Pausing at the tree line, she noticed her team already gathered at the clearing ahead. Ryoichi Ikasume, Takahiro Kamano, and Yoko Watane stood together in a loose circle, chatting quietly among themselves. Takahiro stretched idly, Yoko sharpened a kunai absentmindedly against a whetstone, and Ryoichi flipped through a small notepad, likely notes from their study sessions.
Kushina smiled slightly but chose not to reveal herself just yet. She remained hidden behind a wide trunk, arms folded, observing them with quiet satisfaction.
However, her sharp senses picked up more than just her team's presence.
A faint rustling from the bushes nearby prickled her instincts. She focused, narrowing her senses until she recognized three all-too-familiar chakra signatures.
Her eyes narrowed in irritation.
'Baicho, Haihuen, Shinsuke... What the hell are they doing here?'
Suppressing a sigh, she stepped into the clearing. Her students immediately snapped to attention, straightening like soldiers at parade rest.
"Kushina-sama!" Yoko called out first, bowing sharply. The others quickly followed suit.
Kushina gave them a curt nod but then turned her head sharply toward the bushes, her voice crisp and commanding.
"You three. Come out. What are you doing here?"
There was a brief, sheepish shuffle before Baicho, Haihuen, and Shinsuke emerged from their hiding spot, trying to look casual and utterly failing.
Kushina turned back to her students, her tone even. "Did any of you invite them?"
All three shook their heads immediately.
"No, Kushina-sama," Ryoichi said firmly.
Yoko frowned, clearly irritated at the interruption, and Takahiro crossed his arms, glaring at the newcomers.
Haihuen, ever the smoother talker of Baicho's group, stepped forward, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish grin.
"We, uh... overheard them yesterday talking about training under you," Haihuen said. "Since we also filed our nominations for your project, we thought we could learn something too."
Kushina closed her eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of her nose.
'A morning headache... perfect.'
She exhaled slowly and straightened, fixing the six young shinobi with a hard look.
"Fine. Since you're all so eager," she said, voice like steel wrapped in velvet, "then all of you better be ready. Because I won't be going easy on anyone." She paused, surveying them sharply. "We'll make it interesting. Ryoichi, Takahiro, Yoko...you'll form one team. Baicho, Haihuen, Shinsuke...you'll form the other. You'll spar against each other. Teamwork, coordination, and resilience. That's what I'll be watching. If you want to impress me, you'd better fight like you mean it."
Kushina crossed her arms and took a few steps back, giving the six young shinobi room to face off properly in the clearing.
"Alright," she called out, her voice carrying authority. "Let's see what you're made of. Teams ready yourselves...begin!"
In an instant, the training field erupted into motion. Ryoichi, Takahiro, and Yoko moved like a single organism, smooth and synchronized. Ryoichi immediately took the lead, barking out brief commands, while Yoko provided cover with swift, precise shuriken throws that hindered and interfered with their opponents' movements and Takahiro launched forward with controlled, aggressive strikes.
Baicho's team...well… they at least scrambled to respond. Baicho charged forward first, bull-headed and reckless to Takahiro. Haihuen tried to flank with a low sweep against Yoko while Shinsuke hung back, clearly trying to find an opening.
Kushina watched from the side, eyes sharp and evaluating. It was obvious within the first thirty seconds that Ryoichi's team was superior. They moved with unity, discipline, and planning. Baicho's group, by contrast, was fragmented and uncoordinated, each acting almost independently.
"Dammit!" Baicho cursed loudly as Takahiro caught him in a clean counter and sent him stumbling.
Not willing to give up, Haihuen attempted a dirty move...throwing a handful of dust toward Yoko's eyes. But Yoko anticipated it, sliding back swiftly and sending a retaliatory kick into Haihuen's ribs, knocking the wind out of him.
Shinsuke, trying to be clever, launched a feint with a kunai...only for Ryoichi to parry it effortlessly and close the distance with a sharp elbow strike that effortlessly connected with Shinshuke's cheek and that sent him sprawling.
From her vantage point, Kushina noted everything.
'Ryoichi's team is better. Their age and extra experience show,' she thought, her gaze steady, although her eyes became sharper and more critical. 'But they still don't look anything close to first-string shinobi material. Being stuck on second-string duty really hampered their growth.'
She shifted her stance slightly, arms still crossed. Her sharp eyes flicked toward Baicho's team as they regrouped and stubbornly launched another attack despite being clearly outmatched.
'Pervert trio,' she thought dryly, watching Baicho bark curses and rally his team. 'Outskilled, sure. But they don't back down.'
A slight, genuine smile tugged at Kushina's lips.
'They’ve got guts, at least. Maybe they have something to offer after all.'
The spar continued, with Ryoichi's team tightening their grip. One by one, they overwhelmed their opponents: Ryoichi cornered Shinsuke and had a kunai pointed firmly at his throat; Takahiro pinned Haihuen down with a knee to his back, keeping a blade dangerously close; and Yoko, swift and merciless, knocked Baicho onto his back and pressed her knee onto his chest, holding him down.
"Stay down," Yoko said firmly, her tone brooking no argument.
Baicho, breathless and annoyed, once again tried a dirty trick...reaching up suddenly in an attempt to shove Yoko off balance. But Yoko anticipated it, slamming his hand into the dirt with one swift move and tightening her pin.
Flushed and breathing heavily, Baicho’s eyes involuntarily roamed up Yoko's legs. Her snug ninja shorts...practical yet form-fitting...left little to the imagination, ending high on her thighs. His gaze drifted upward without thinking, tracing the toned muscles beneath her skin. Trying to sneak a glance further up, he subtly shifted his focus toward the space between her legs...but the dark colors of her shorts obscured any details, frustrating his pervy instincts. Still, he couldn't help but admire her athletic figure.
'Damn, she's... beautiful... not like Kushina-sama but still...'
Yoko caught his wandering eyes instantly, her cheeks coloring slightly with a mix of embarrassment and simmering anger. Her brows furrowed sharply, and her posture stiffened in clear annoyance.
"Eyes down, you perv!" she snapped, kicking him sharply in the ribs and pulling her leg away.
Baicho grunted in pain, sprawling back into the dirt. 'Damn, she looks beautiful too when pissed,' he thought helplessly, even as he winced from the kick.
From the side, Kushina’s sharp gaze locked onto Baicho. A flicker of disapproval crossed her face, but she said nothing...realistically, the compromising position was probably too much for a hormonal, pervy teen like him. Her expression tightened briefly with irritation. 'If he tries that again, maybe I'll have to break a few of his bones to properly teach them some respect,' she thought grimly. Still, she coughed deliberately, drawing all attention back to her before things escalated further.
"Good work, team," she said, her voice steady. "I see your strengths and weaknesses, but you all have a lot to work on."
Her gaze swept across the gathered young shinobi.
"You two teams will spar here daily from now on," she continued. "I’ll join in on alternate days. Expect growth. No excuses."
Straightening her posture, she first turned to Ryoichi's team, her tone sharp and precise.
"Ryoichi...you're sharp, your leadership instincts are solid, but you need to work on your speed and tighten your strikes. You're quick-witted but not quick enough in your body yet."
"Yoko...your legwork is exquisite, almost textbook perfect, but you're relying on it too much. You need to strengthen your upper body techniques and make your hands just as dangerous as your kicks."
"Takahiro...you have the most ground to recover. Your injury has left you stiff and cautious. You need to rebuild your flow, your trust in your body's movements. Right now, you're holding back, and hesitation will kill you in a real battle."
Then she shifted her hard gaze toward Baicho's trio, her expression growing steely.
"And you three...you need a lot of work. Right now, you're all instinct, no discipline. Sloppy coordination, poor timing, desperate tactics. But you didn't give up. That counts for something, but only that is not enough. Be here to spar daily. Push yourselves beyond your habits. I'm sure you'll learn more than you'll lose."
Kushina's gaze lingered a moment longer on Baicho, noting how he was still glaring daggers at Ryoichi.
'This damn bastard with a stick in his ass won... No way I can allow that,' Baicho fumed internally.
Clearing her throat again, Kushina addressed the group. "Come to me in the afternoon when I'm in the archives if you want suggestions for chakra improvement or advice on refining any personal techniques you have."

--------TBH--------TBH--------TBH--------TBH-------

After the sparring session ended, Kushina wasted no time. She returned home swiftly, knowing she had just enough time to help the kids get ready before the academy bell rang.
It was already half past seven in the morning and Naruto, predictably, was dragging his feet.
"Come on, Naruto," Kushina said, already pulling out towels and laying out clean clothes. "You’re going to be late again if you don’t hurry."
"I can do it myself!" the eight-year-old protested loudly, arms flailing as his mother herded him toward the bathroom.
But Kushina didn’t budge. She walked with him all the way in, already having tied a towel around her own body from just stepping out of her own bath. The light sheen on her shoulders showed she hadn’t dried off completely yet.
Before Naruto could escape, she tugged at the hem of his shirt and peeled it over his head, then quickly removed his shorts and underwear, leaving him stark naked in the center of the warm, tiled bathroom.
"Kaa-chan!" Naruto shouted, beet red as he tried to cover himself, flustered beyond belief.
Kushina, unfazed, lifted him like a sack of rice and deposited him in the bathtub.
"I said I can do it!" he shouted again, cheeks flushing even deeper as the water splashed.
Kushina rolled her eyes, chuckling. "You said that yesterday too. And I still found soap behind your ears. And It’s not like I help you daily these days"
From outside the bathroom door, a soft giggle filtered through. Karin.
Naruto’s face turned beet red.
"She’s laughing at me!"
"Then wash faster," Kushina replied, smirking as she handed him a washcloth. "Or she’ll come in and help."
"Nooooo!"
After wrangling her son into something resembling cleanliness, she turned her attention to Karin. The girl sat quietly in the hallway, holding her change of clothes in her lap.
"Your turn," Kushina said gently.
Karin blinked in surprise. "You don’t have to, I can..."
But Kushina was already ushering her in, filling the basin, checking the temperature, and sitting behind her with a brush and a bottle of shampoo.
"Just sit still. Let me do this."
Karin hesitated for a moment but then nodded. Her mother had been the only one who used to wash her hair. Although she hadn't been dead that long, it felt like centuries since anyone had helped her like that, and it still felt strange for the red-haired girl.
Kushina worked gently, massaging the shampoo into Karin’s scalp, then rinsing it with slow, careful hands. The red strands gleamed under the morning light.
"There. All done," Kushina said, wrapping a warm towel around her. "Go get dressed. Breakfast’s almost ready."
Once both kids were occupied, Kushina took the rare moment to return to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Steam still hung faintly in the air. She let her towel drop to the floor and stepped under the warm shower again, the water cascading down her body, washing away the sweat and strain from the morning rush.
Her skin tingled under the stream, the rivulets tracing over her toned stomach and full breasts, water gathering at her nipples before sliding down her curves. She let out a soft breath, her fingers running through her hair slowly.
Her thoughts drifted...unbidden...to the previous evening.
Mikoto.
That look in her eyes. The teasing. The way she'd used that tool against her...Kushina’s breath caught slightly at the memory. Her thighs clenched unconsciously by the her desire to have her husband back.
"Tch... idiot," she muttered to herself, rinsing off quickly, cheeks lightly flushed. "Not now."
She finished up, dried off swiftly, and rewrapped herself in a fresh towel before heading back to the kitchen.
With both kids clean, dressed, and fed, Kushina greeted Yugao at the door.
"You’re just in time," she smiled. "Thanks again for walking them."
Yugao nodded. "No problem. Let’s go, brats."
Naruto groaned dramatically, slinging on his bag. But before stepping out, he paused and turned to look at Kushina.
"Kaa-chan," he said, puffing out his cheeks, "you’re gonna pick us up today, right? You promised last night."
Kushina blinked for a moment, caught off guard by the sharpness in his voice and the look of expectation in his eyes. She did promise him after dinner.
She crouched slightly, resting her hands on his shoulders. "Yeah... I remember Naruto. I’ll be there. Promise."
Naruto held her gaze a moment longer, then nodded quickly and turned around to follow Yugao. Karin offered a quiet goodbye, already slipping her sandals on, and closed the door behind her.
As the door shut behind them, Kushina sighed and leaned against the frame.
She could feel the guilt coil in her chest. She hadn’t missed how Naruto’s voice tightened just slightly when he asked.
'He’s been so patient,' she thought, her chest heavy. 'Every time I’ve been late... busy in the Hokage Tower... or out of the village for days. Gods, I’ve barely been around lately.'
The echo of his small voice clung to her thoughts.
'I’ll be there. Promise.'
And this time, she would keep it. As she stood in the quietness of the house finally.
She turned, ready to finally head upstairs and get herself clean. But just as she stepped toward her room, the chakra seals at the gate pulsed.
Her eyes narrowed.
Visitors.
She focused her senses.
Mikoto.
Hitomi.
The seals confirmed it. Her friends had arrived, and they were heading toward her house quickly.
Within moments, she could hear the click of sandals and the faintest rustle of familiar voices.
Kushina groaned.
"Of course they didn’t forget..."
She had hoped…prayed…that they would let it go, that yesterday’s chaos would be enough to satisfy their teasing spirits.
But the chakra presence nearing her door said otherwise.
And Mikoto’s smirking face as it peeked through the side window of doors sealed the truth.
The teasing hadn’t even started yet.
Kushina barely had time to gather her thoughts before the familiar sound of the front door creaking open echoed through the hallway.
"It's time for office," Mikoto’s voice rang out with unmistakable cheer. "Let’s pick an outfit and get you ready."
Hitomi followed right behind, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. With a playful grin, she patted Kushina lightly on the rear. "Come on, hit it," she teased, nodding toward the bedroom. "Fashion command awaits."
Kushina turned, flustered, but unable to stop the small laugh that escaped. "Guys, come on. It was just a joke. I dressed like that for you two...not for the world to see. You don’t seriously expect me to wear something that indecent in public."
But as soon as she said it, the image of herself in that scandalously tight blouse and maroon mini pencil skirt flashed in her mind...the way it clung to every curve, how it revealed more than she was prepared to show. Her cheeks colored faintly at that embarrassing vision of herself wearing that and the idea of going out in public like that..
"No excuses," Mikoto said firmly, arms crossed and that mischievous glint in her eye. "We’re not letting you back out now."
The trio entered Kushina’s bedroom, sunlight pouring in through the half-parted curtains. Scrolls were already unsealed and unfurled across the bed, clothes spilling out with deliberate chaos.
"Okay, madam deputy Hokage," Mikoto declared dramatically. "You get two choices."
She held up two elegant yet outrageously short pencil skirts...one in sleek black and the other in deep brown. Both shimmered faintly, the fabric smooth and hugging. Hitomi, with a wicked smirk, stood at her side holding up matching sets of lacy underwear, clearly color-coordinated with each skirt.
Kushina blinked. "Guys, I can’t..."
"You can and you will," Hitomi cut in, lifting an eyebrow. "We’re not letting you back out."
"I’m the Hokage," Kushina mumbled, but there was no real resistance in her tone anymore. Her fingers fidgeted with the towel still wrapped around her.
Mikoto stepped closer, holding both skirts up near her hips. "Come on, Kushina. Black says confident dominatrix, brown says temptress in control. Either way, we win."
Kushina groaned and turned, opening another scroll tucked beneath her vanity. With a small puff of smoke, a different set of clothes appeared.
"This," she said, lifting out the outfit, "is what I bought with you that day, remember? I can’t wear these. That mini pencil skirt barely covers anything...it’s obscene."
She gestured to the maroon mini-skirt folded neatly on the bed, a bold cut that would’ve revealed every inch of her thighs and then some.
Instead, she reached for another pencil skirt from the newly opened pile...this one black, still shorter than what she normally wore, but longer than the others. The hem ended just below the lower mid-thigh, hugging her hips but not cutting so scandalously high.
"This... this I can work with," she said, more to herself than to them.
"A compromise," Mikoto said with a wink.
"For now," Hitomi added, eyeing the maroon one with no small amount of longing. "But soon you’re wearing that one too."
Kushina exhaled, already imagining the teasing she'd endure just stepping out of the house. Still, as her fingers brushed the soft fabric of the pencil skirt she had chosen, a small smile tugged at her lips.
Even if they were devils, they were hers.
Kushina sighed in relief as she successfully sidestepped the dreaded miniskirt dilemma...for now. The slightly longer pencil skirt in her hands felt like a small victory. It was still bold, still revealing, but far more manageable.
She could feel both Mikoto and Hitomi's gazes on her, silently evaluating. With a resigned breath, Kushina loosened the towel wrapped around her and let it drop, stepping out of her home clothes and standing in just her skin.
Just as she bent to step into the black skirt, Mikoto coughed dramatically.
"Well, we’re not allowing you to wear those underneath at least," she said, eyeing Kushina's regular black netted panties.
"You may be reluctant when it comes to thongs, so try these instead," Mikoto added, fishing through the pile and tossing a delicate pair of black mesh cheekies into Kushina's hands.
The material was minimalist...far barer than what Kushina typically wore. The cheeky cut revealed most of her backside, hugging the lower curve of her cheeks with barely-there coverage. The sheer mesh showed glimpses of skin beneath, much more openly than the netted pattern of her current pair.
As she stepped into them, Kushina tugged them over her hips, adjusting the low-rise band carefully. She turned toward the mirror, eyes narrowing as she caught a glimpse of her rear.
Her full ass was almost completely on display. The cut wasn’t a thong, but it was still scandalous...and yet oddly comfortable. Her hips were perfectly framed, and her red pubic hair peeked faintly through the front of the sheer mesh. Her cheeks darkened as she bit her lip.
She didn’t complain, though.
Before she could reach for her blouse, Mikoto was already tossing the next item.
"Now for the top. Try this."
It was a black balconette mesh bra. She hesitated as she held it up...the cups were sheer but structured, designed to lift and shape while barely concealing. The underwire gave support and was barely covering the nipple area, but everything else was see-through.
"Mikoto, I can’t..." she started, face flushing.
But Hitomi was already behind her, snapping the clasp closed once Kushina hesitantly slid the bra on. The cool mesh kissed her skin, and her nipples quickly reacted to the contact, clearly visible beneath the fabric.
Kushina looked at herself in the mirror...red hair cascading over her shoulders, curves hugged by the sinful lingerie, all shadows and suggestion.
"I can’t, Mikoto," she gasped, trying to keep her arms crossed.
"Why, Kushi-chan?" Hitomi teased, laughing as she patted her shoulder. "Worried you’ll be opening your blouse in the office?"
Mikoto leaned casually against the wall, her smirk wicked. "Or maybe you plan on flashing the old man Hokage... give him a heart attack so you can claim the seat, hmm?"
"Mikoto!" Kushina shouted, her whole body heating with a mix of outrage and mortification.
The two women laughed openly now, enjoying every second of their friend’s flustered reaction.
But Kushina’s reflection told a different story...she looked powerful, sensual, even dangerous. The sheer mesh of the lingerie didn’t hide anything; if anything, it emphasized everything. Her pink nipples stood firm behind the barely-there fabric, her curves framed like a sculpture meant to be admired. She could clearly make out the fiery red patch of her pubic hair through the front, and depending on how the light hit, she swore she could almost see the outline of her slit. The intimate exposure made her cheeks burn...and yet it made her feel oddly empowered, aroused, and undeniably sexy. For a brief moment, she imagined stepping into the Hokage’s office dressed just like this, teasingly unbuttoning her blouse in front of Minato, watching his eyes widen and his breath hitch. Would he stammer? Would he grab her and pull her in, right there against the desk? Or would he be paralyzed watching her? Perfect for her to take the initiative and play with him. That image alone sent a deep pulse through her core. And deep down, even she couldn’t deny the thrill curling in her stomach.
Mikoto smirked at Kushina's flustered reflection and crossed her arms with a teasing glint in her eye.
"Stop gawking at yourself and dress up already," Mikoto teased. "We know you're sexy. That's exactly why you have to appear that way."
But as she spoke, a flicker of something darker crossed her mind.
A sudden, sharp image from last night’s dream slammed into her thoughts, Kushina’s body pinned, her limbs restrained, her moans not of pleasure, but helplessness. The sheer vulnerability in her expression, the trembling in her voice as she whimpered, the subtle stain of shame... Mikoto’s smirk faltered for just a heartbeat.
'No... that’s not real. That’s not true. Snap out of it, Mikoto,' she told herself, trying to push the image away. Her heart gave a strange twist, tight and possessive.
'Kushina is mine. Mine to protect. Mine to tease. Mine to want. I won’t let anyone else claim her... except maybe that flaky, yellow-haired bastard.'
The breath she didn’t realize she was holding slipped out between her lips as she steadied her expression again, burying the flicker of doubt beneath a practiced smirk.
Hitomi chimed in with a chuckle which broke Mikoto’s thoughts. "You've always been a heartbreaker and never realized it, Kushi-chan. But today you will." Kushina couldn’t help but agree.
Flushing deeper, Kushina shook her head and focused on getting dressed before they teased her into insanity.
She grabbed a light blue shirt, pulling it over her head and buttoning it quickly. The material was soft and crisp against her skin. Next, she stepped into the black pencil skirt she had picked earlier. With a practiced shimmy, she pulled it up and over her hips.
The fabric hugged her ass and thighs perfectly, molding to her body and ending just below mid-thigh, showcasing her long legs while keeping just enough modesty...barely.
Before she could move to her sandals, Mikoto tossed a pair of sheer black thigh-highs onto the bed.
"Complete the look," Mikoto said with a wink.
Kushina sighed but complied. She slid the thigh-highs up her legs, adjusting the band carefully so it sat flush against her thighs. The sheer material blended perfectly against her skin, adding an extra edge of allure to the outfit.
She sat at her vanity to quickly fix her hair into a high ponytail. Just as she was tightening the tie, Mikoto came up behind her and gently pulled a couple of loose strands free to frame her face.
"Now you look sexier," Mikoto said with a satisfied grin. "This would definitely draw eyes. But I still wish you'd worn the miniskirt."
Hitomi nodded emphatically in agreement. "It would’ve been legendary, Kushi-chan."
"You two... I have to go," Kushina grumbled, flustered all over again.
She gathered her files, steeling herself for the day ahead, and stepped out of the bedroom...her friends' giggles and whispered teases following closely behind her.
--------TBH--------TBH--------TBH--------TBH-------

Kushina adjusted the hem of her pencil skirt one final time as she stepped out of her house, the door clicking shut behind her.
The light breeze of the early morning tickled her thighs, drawing her attention to how much leg she was actually showing. The black pencil skirt hugged her hips tightly and ended just below her mid-thighs, revealing long, toned legs partially clad in sheer black thigh-highs. Each step she took made the fabric shift slightly, and her uncovered skin shifted and showed.
She could feel her cheeks burn, not just from the boldness of her outfit, but from the teasing laughter still echoing behind her.
"Have fun making old men stare!" Mikoto called out with a wink, waving dramatically.
"And don't jump too much or they'll see more than just your paperwork," Hitomi added with a mischievous smirk.
Kushina groaned but waved them off with half-hearted annoyance.
"Pestering bitches," she muttered.
The trio parted ways just before the district split, Mikoto and Hitomi heading toward their respective clan compounds, while Kushina took the main stone path toward the Hokage Tower.
It didn’t take long before heads started to turn.
A pair of young Chuunin paused mid-conversation as she passed, one visibly blushing as the other elbowed him. A Jounin she didn’t recognize did a double take before quickly pretending to inspect a building plan on a clipboard. Even a few civilian women gave her that half-admiring, half-judging look reserved for someone who dressed just a bit too well that early in the morning.
And Kushina felt every single stare.
The sway of her hips. The click of her heeled sandals. The crisp collar of her light blue shirt shifting with each stride, her heart was racing, nervous about being seen with her new look but also filled with sweet excitement. She noticed that more eyes on her were bigger than usual and much more attentive. Although she didn't show it, she felt a slight uneasy warmth in her stomach along with her nipples hardening and pressing against her bra. They weren't visible, but for her it was a fact that needed no confirmation. She imagined that if she weren't wearing the shirt, they would peek through the mesh for all to see, which made her even more nervous. Although totally in a bad way.
She held her head high, keeping her expression composed, but inside her nerves fluttered wildly.
'I’m the deputy Hokage,' she reminded herself with each confident step. 'They’re supposed to look, right?. Let them look.'
That was what she told herself to cope with the sensations aroused by so many eyes on her. But the conversation she had had with her two teasing friends about supposed myopia to the more intimate and indecent kind of attention she attracted was still fresh in her conscience.
She resisted the idea that her friends were right and that people in her own village were observing her, the wife of the yondaime Hokage, as an object of desire and not just someone to be respected and admired. But at the same time, she found it an appealing idea, like uncharted territory or a new experience that sounded as terrifying as it was appealing. like a siren's song.
She discreetly returned sidelong glances so that she could confirm what kind of reaction she was really arousing in people. She found more than one blushing face, more than one trying unsuccessfully to hide interest in her, and more than one pair of eyes watching her body as if devouring her.
'Is it because of my new outfit? Or did they always look at me like that?' She thought feeling a subtle warmth in her lower stomach area, finding it exciting to interpret those looks in a new and wicked light.
"Face it, Kushi-chan. You're not just a leader. You're a goddamn goddess. And everyone knows it... but you."
Mikoto's words came back to her as if to set the record straight.
If what she had told her about her deficiency in picking up on the desire for her from anyone but Minato was an objective opinion, then Kushina could begin to understand her friends' apparent frustration with her for denying something that had now become painfully obvious once she was aware of it.
She had thought her friends were just overreacting to annoy her, but when she caught her reflection in a shop window and for a moment, even she had to admit it.
She looked different, she looked hot.
And dangerous.and she liked it.
'A damn goddess, eh?' She thought contemplatively, continuing on her way to the office without being fully aware the small smile was forming on her face nor how her gait subtly changed to one that attracted even more stares.
The gates of the Hokage Tower loomed ahead, flanked by two stationed Chuunin who immediately straightened at the sight of the approaching redhead. Kushina’s pace was calm but purposeful, the sway of her hips deliberate, the curve of her thighs outlined by the hugging skirt and framed by sheer thigh-highs.
The guards both bowed quickly, one of them even with head down focussed on her, eyes darting between her legs and the horizon.
Inside, the tiled halls of the Hokage Tower echoed with the confident click of her sandals. The buzz of shinobi moving about their duties filled the air, but heads turned as she passed. Conversations stumbled. A few whispered.
At the mission assignment board near the main desk, Daisuke, the usually bumbling assistant in her presence, was reviewing scrolls when he spotted her.
He froze.
His eyes widened, a scroll half-open in his hand, mouth slightly agape as if words were forming but never making it to air.
Kushina walked straight past him with a subtle, knowing smirk.
"Morning, Daisuke," she said smoothly.
He sputtered. "K-Kushina-sama! I-I mean, morning, ma'am!"
She signed her attendance and didn’t break stride.
As she rounded the corner near the ANBU wing, Yugao stepped into view, her cat mask lifted slightly over her forehead. The elite kunoichi was mid-report, but upon catching sight of Kushina, her step faltered.
A clear double take.
Her eyes flicked from the hem of Kushina’s short skirt to the sharp collar of her blue shirt and the subtle outline of the dark lingerie beneath.
Yugao blinked, recovered quickly, and nodded.
"Kushina-sama. You look... prepared."
Kushina arched her brow, lips curling. "I am."
By the time she reached her office doors, she felt all excited with the whispers, glances, and silent stares following her like the tail of a comet.
And with a subtle flick of her ponytail, she stepped into her domain, letting the door swing shut behind her with a satisfying click
Kushina stepped into her office with the familiar rustle of paper, the faint scent of ink and wood polish welcoming her. She had expected a moment to settle in, maybe pour herself some tea.
But she didn’t just see the old man there.
Old man was already seated in one of the guest chairs across from her desk, his old hat resting beside him. Danzo stood off to the side, arms folded inside his robes, ever the statue in the corner.
Kushina paused mid-step.
Hiruzen looked up, his eyes widening ever so slightly. His pipe slipped just a hair from the corner of his lips.
His gaze, usually calm and grandfatherly, visibly ticked downward, first to the crisp light-blue shirt tucked neatly into her sleek black pencil skirt, then down the tight line of her hips, finally landing on the sliver of bare thigh where the skirt ended and sheer stockings began as she walked in. He felt a sudden tightness below and had an almost instant hard on flashing through him. Just for a moment, the image of Kushina straddling his lap, flushed and panting, took root in his mind. His jaw clenched.
But decades of composure anchored him. Hiruzen reined the image in, suppressing it beneath layers of political focus and shinobi self-discipline. He forced his expression into practiced neutrality, though the faintest flicker of something darker lingered behind his eyes.
He cleared his throat.
"Ah... Good morning, Kushina-chan."
Danzo said nothing, but Kushina noticed the slight narrowing of his eyes.
She didn’t let the moment linger.
"Sorry to keep you both waiting, I didn't know we had a meeting scheduled " she said smoothly, walking around the desk She sat with practiced poise, crossing her legs under the desk.
"Nothing to worry about Kushina, We were just starting. You remember we caught a few ronins when you were on the way to Hot springs country ? “ As Kushina nodded he continued “We received a report while you were in the Hot Springs Country," Hiruzen started , forcing his eyes back to the paperwork in front of him. "A group of Ronin were again spotted outside the northeastern pass. They’d been trailing caravans of merchants thankfully a patrol of shinobis spotted them and they ran away "
Kushina’s eyes sharpened. "How close did they get to the pass?"
"Close enough," Danzo finally spoke, his voice gravelly. "Too close."
Hiruzen passed her the report. Kushina leaned forward slightly, scanning the page, the movement not lost on either man as her shirt’s fabric pulled subtly at her chest.
"Their weapons were confiscated, well at least what they left behind. From what I got from Genma, who was part of the patrol," Hiruzen continued. "Two of them were former Kumo-nin, now listed as missing-nin. One of them was a weapons merchant linked to a few border skirmishes."
Kushina set the paper down, her tone flat. "So they were testing our defenses."
"Or they were asked to." Danzo nodded. "Although we still do not rule out that they are genuine renegade ninjas."
Her jaw tensed at the implication.
"The ronin captured by your security are still being interrogated at T&I," Hiruzen added calmly. "But this might not be the last of them. Word travels quickly across provinces."
“And have he hasn’t said anything?” she asked Hiruzen.
“Not a word.”
Kushina leaned back, eyes narrowed in thought, fingers drumming lightly against the armrest. "They must be strong-willed if they’ve lasted this long against Ibiki-san and our interrogators," she said, remembering how those ronin had almost caught a genin team and their sensei.
While she was lost in thought, Hiruzen’s eyes drifted to her bust and the way her lips seemed to part slightly, unconsciously. When she felt his gaze return to her again, more composed now, but still distracted she tilted her head.
"Something on your mind, old man?"
Hiruzen coughed and quickly looked away. "Don’t worry about it. What I want is for you to visit T&I today and get details yourself from Ibiki. Maybe even see the prisoner face to face and see if they give anything up after they see you," he said vaguely, lifting his pipe again.
Kushina smirked faintly. "Why? Should I be triggering something?"
Danzo spoke this time. "My intel tells me that Kumogakure may have been involved and that you may have been the target. It was no coincidence that those ronin were caught just on the path you used for travel."
"Huh... I thought Root was disbanded. And why would they target me now?"
Hiruzen answered. "Root is still disbanded, but this old coot here still has a few old contacts. And you’re a high-value target. You're the next Hokage in line and not to mention one of the last full blooded Uzumaki." he ended and thought ‘and smoking hot as hell which any one would like to have a go at’
Kushina nodded, remembering her attempted kidnapping by Kumo years ago. "Let those bastards try. Yes, I’ll visit that ronin."
Danzo, quiet until now, studied her with unreadable eyes. He noticed how his old friend kept glancing at the redhead, and the difference in her outfit from the last time she'd been in the room.
‘She’s fitting in well,’ Danzo mused silently. ‘Maybe there’s still hope.’
"Okay, Hiruzen. I need to go. Let me know if that ronin breaks," Danzo said, his voice low and even.
Hiruzen nodded as he stood, gathering his pipe and hat. The two men moved toward the door, the weight of age and leadership hanging between them. Behind them, Kushina unrolled a fresh scroll at her desk, her eyes already focused on the next matter of state.
As they stepped into the hallway, Danzo’s voice dropped to a near whisper.
"So you still haven’t claimed her."
Hiruzen stiffened slightly, pausing mid-step. "Shut up, you old coot," he snapped, his tone sharp but controlled with annoyance boiling over.
Danzo smirked, unfazed, his one good eye gleaming with something unreadable.
"Tch..."
He turned away, the slow thud-thud of his cane echoing on the polished wooden floor as he walked off into the corridor, leaving Hiruzen behind with a shadowed look in his eyes.
--------TBH--------TBH--------TBH--------TBH-------

Once Danzo was gone, the room exhaled into silence. The weight he carried seemed to leave with him.
Hiruzen let out a soft sigh as he eased back into the chair across from Kushina’s desk, setting his hat down again. He took a slow pull from his pipe, the faint curl of smoke trailing lazily upward.
"Don’t worry too much about those ronin," he said, voice a touch lighter now. "It’s probably just Danzo’s paranoia acting up again."
Kushina nodded slowly, though her mind remained on that old scar, the memory of the night Kumo tried to steal her away. Her expression darkened, if only for a second, under the idea that they would try something again. Or worse, that this time they try something about Naruto or Karin.
Hiruzen saw it. But he let it pass.
Instead, he smirked and said, "So... I heard someone famous is giving an interview to Fire Emblem."
Kushina’s head snapped up. Her blush rose almost immediately. "Tssk... so you heard."
"Of course I did," Hiruzen chuckled, puffing at his pipe. "You’re so cruel, Tomato-chan. You didn’t even invite this old Hokage to sit in the audience."
"Shut up, old man," she shot back, trying to hide her smile and failing.
"So cruel," he continued with mock woundedness. "Is that why you changed your appearance?"
Kushina lifted a brow. "So what if I did? I need to look good and get more eyes on my project."
"Didn’t think you had it in you to play moves like that..." he said with a smirk. "But it’s a good one. The interview will definitely give you visibility."
She smiled at the compliment, rolling her chair back slightly.
"But beware," he added, raising a finger. "Publicity is a two-way road."
She nodded again, though not entirely sure what he meant.
Hiruzen leaned forward, eyes twinkling. "So... you’re not going to ask for another sparring session to show the world you can finally beat me?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Why would I?"
"Well, imagine if those Fire Emblem reporters heard that the young Hokage candidate still loses to an old man," he said casually.
Kushina’s face turned red in an instant. "Shut up, old man!"
"Come now," Hiruzen said with a twinkle in his eye. "Afraid you’ll lose trying to land a hit on me again?"
"Please," she scoffed, crossing her arms. "You were almost on the verge of defeat in our last match."
"Hoh... all I remember is a certain Tomato lying across my lap as I spanked her," he replied smugly.
"You... you pervert! You got lucky!" she fired back, the memory of her being spanked flashing across her mind.
"I still call it a win. A win is a win."
She narrowed her eyes. "You're seriously asking for it now... you're a sore winner."
"So... a challenge then?" he grinned, leaning forward with mock delight.
She groaned, knowing she’d walked into his trap, but there was no going back now. "You’re on," she said, standing up sharply, her voice brimming with mock fire. "And this time, there won’t be any wayward clones to save you."
Hiruzen watched her as she marched to the side of the table, her long strides stirring the hem of her black pencil skirt, revealing glimpses of sheer thigh-highs beneath.
His smirk deepened. "Now that sounds like the Tomato I know."
Kushina looked back over her shoulder with a twitch in her eye. "Better be ready, old man. No luck will save you this time."
"I wouldn’t dream of it. But you speak as if I’d fight with a loser," he taunted.
"Who are you calling a loser, you pervy old man?!"
"You, of course, Tomato-chan," he said, thoroughly enjoying riling her up. In her rage, she stepped closer to his side, unintentionally giving him a full view of her figure. He could make peaks of her tits over her shirt up this close. 'Oh how i want to bend her over my lap and spank her again'
"I’m tired of winning, hehe. But what would I have gotten if I’d lost? You would’ve gotten your wish. Now I’m on a winning streak," he smirked.
"What do you want, old man? A bet this time?" she asked, visibly peeved but inwardly excited.
"Of course. If I win, you’ll do what I ask. And if you win, I’ll do as you say."
"It better not be anything perverted, old man."
"Of course not," he said innocently.
"So... tomorrow, my place. And you set the rules," she said, her voice steady with finality and challenge.
She turned on her heel, ready to end the conversation and reclaim her composure. But Hiruzen's eyes couldn’t follow her orders, not when the swing of her hips beneath that tight black pencil skirt commanded so much attention. The fabric molded perfectly to her curves, the faint trace of her thigh-high stockings showing when the skirt shifted with her stride.
And then...
PAT
The soft, unmistakable sound echoed through the room, a swift palm meeting a firm, perfect backside.
Kushina froze mid-step.
Similarly Hiruzen as well froze like a statue in place. Even the world around him froze in shock.
Hiruzen's hand hovered where it had just moved, almost on its own, without thought, driven by instinct and years of dangerous teasing.
He blinked. He couldn’t believe he had actually done it.
Kushina’s fiery red hair whipped in the air as she spun around, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and absolute fury.
"You pervert...!"
She lunged, chakra flaring wildly around her like crackling embers, the whole office filling with her presence.
But in that heartbeat, Hiruzen's form shimmered and with a puff of smoke and a telltale swirl of leaves, he vanished in a perfectly timed Substitution Jutsu.
The pillow on his chair gently deflated in his place.
Kushina stood in the middle of the room, her chest rising and falling, her fists clenched.
"That pervert of an old man... I’ll kill him now!"
Her cheeks were burning, her pride dented, and her temper boiling. But even as her fury sparked, the corner of her lip twitched, just once.
Old man or not, Hiruzen knew exactly how to push her buttons.

--------TBH--------TBH--------TBH--------TBH-------
Kushina walked briskly through the lower halls of the Hokage Tower, her heels tapping sharply against the stone floor as she made her way toward the Torture and Interrogation division.
"Stupid old man," she muttered under her breath, arms crossed and expression stormy.
The heat still lingered on her cheek and a phantom memory of a palm that had no business being there on her ass. Her chakra flared subtly with each step, not quite violent, but simmering.
And yet...
A darker, sly voice echoed inside her mind, whispering with the hint of amusement.
"You liked it, didn’t you? Don’t lie..."
Kushina gritted her teeth. "Shut up," she hissed to no one but couldn't deny it.
But another part of her, a quieter, more dangerous part lingered on the memory.
The sound. The audacity. The heat.
The way her body had reacted with more than just anger.
Her rational voice protested “What are you doing? That was completely inappropriate. He's a pervy old man. You shouldn’t feel like that. You're the deputy Hokage for heaven's sake, control yourself”. It tried to scold her, tried to pull her back to structure and decorum, to remind her of titles and boundaries, of what was proper.
But she ignored it.
Instead, her mind wandered further, slipping into a space she'd tried not to visit. She imagined Minato. Her calm, kind Minato standing in her office, his arms around her from behind, his hands slipping beneath the hem of her shirt, warm fingers grazing her skin. She saw his eyes darkening as he turned her around, lifting her onto the edge of her desk. The sharp scent of scrolls and ink mixing with the heat of his breath on her neck. Her breath caught in her throat.
Her rational voice screamed ‘Not now! Not here!’
But her thighs pressed closer together as the image grew stronger, her slit fluttering with quiet tension. The voice tried again ‘You’re on duty. You’re going to interrogate a prisoner. Focus.’
Still, a faint warmth bloomed low in her stomach. As her mind slipped once again to that unexpected spanking.
“You're on duty. You're going to interrogate a prisoner. Concentrate.” The voice tried again.
She took a steadying breath, face neutral again, and let her feet carry her forward.
Her steps continued, sharp and confident, her face composed as she descended into the deeper levels.
By the time she reached the reinforced doors of T&I, her expression was unreadable.
But inside... the storm had only just begun.
Kushina stepped through the reinforced double doors of the Torture and Interrogation Division, the weight of steel and stone settling behind her like a seal. The air inside was cool, clinical, but held the faint undertone of iron, and not just from discipline or weapons.
Her mind flicked back to the intelligence report she'd reviewed earlier:
"They are known as Nakamura-kai, a group of ronin primarily operating out of Kaminari no Kuni and Mizu no Kuni. They had Myoga-san, the jounin assigned to the genin 102 team, almost cornered. Our team managed to subdue the threat and capture a few members alive. I was sent here to inform you."
The memory sharpened her focus.
As she walked down the long corridor, shinobi posted throughout the office turned and acknowledged her presence. Some nodded stiffly, others straightened on instinct. She was, after all, the Hokage in waiting, and today, she looked every inch the role, even if some still found it hard to believe a woman so composed and alluring had such bite beneath her appearance.
"Kushina-sama!" a voice called respectfully.
She turned and immediately recognized the speaker, a young woman with wild purple hair, fishnet underlayers visible beneath her coat. The unmistakable attitude belonged to none other than Anko Mitarashi, the Snake Sannin's infamous former protege.
Kushina's thoughts flickered briefly to the past, the day Anko had been returned to the village, broken and quiet, after escaping Orochimaru's hold. Kushina had been among those summoned to help. It was she who had sealed the cursed mark on Anko’s neck, furious at not being able to get her hands on that traitorous snake herself. She had still been a high-ranking Chuunin back then, not yet Hokage candidate, but she remembered Anko often tagging behind that shy-eyed Kurenai girl.
The stigma of being Orochimaru’s apprentice still hung over her, but from the look of her now, Anko had learned to wear it like armor, or maybe like bait. Her outfit left little to the imagination wearing a long open trench coat, a rather short dark orange skirt, and opaque metallic mesh that covered her body from her collarbone to mid-thigh and fit her body as snugly as a second skin. It even made Kushina wonder if she was naked underneath. Kushina’s mind betrayed her with a naughty whisper: "Imagine how you'd look in that, hmm?" She shook the thought away instantly.
"Mitarashi Anko," Kushina greeted with a firm nod. "Good to see you're keeping the place in order."
Anko's grin broadened. "Always, Kushina-sama. And... can I just say, damn, you look good. It’s really great to see you here." She bowed, genuine warmth behind her words.
Before Kushina could respond further, another presence stepped into view.
Ibiki Morino.
The division chief was unmistakable, tall, broad-shouldered, with the deep, scarred lines across his scalp and face that told a thousand stories without a word. His trench coat hung heavily over his frame as he stepped forward with quiet authority.
For a moment, even stoic Ibiki found himself caught off guard. It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen kunoichi in daring outfits before in the interrogation halls and missions alike presented their share of eccentric cases but he hadn’t expected Kushina Uzumaki to arrive dressed like this.
Her light-blue blouse hugged her chest tightly, his attention going on those globs of flesh, tucked into a sleek pencil skirt that framed her hips and thighs in all the wrong or give perspective right ways. His trained gaze flickered only once, disciplined and subtle, but the thought lodged in his mind all the same: she was a fine one. He might’ve been a hardened interrogator, but he was also a man. A hot-blooded one at that.
Still, his expression betrayed none of it. Not here. Not in front of her.
"Kushina-sama," he said with a deep nod. "You're earlier than expected."
"I wanted to see them myself. The ones captured outside the eastern pass."
"Of course. Follow me."
As he turned and began walking toward the interrogation wing, he gave a low, even briefing.
"The ones we captured were mostly low-level criminals and ex-mercenaries. They're fodder from Kaminari no Kuni. A few have records for robbery, illegal smuggling trafficking, weapon trafficking, and small-scale extortion."
"And their leader?" she asked.
"A different case entirely," Ibiki muttered darkly. "He calls himself Gekko Ren. Almost certainly a fake name, we’re still trying to confirm his true identity. But he’s no common thug. His chakra control is superb, and he managed to wound three of our elite trackers before we finally brought him down. Definitely trained. Possibly a missing-nin, probably a jounin before going awol we don't know if that was part of Kumo plan or if he really is missing nin."
Ibiki’s voice dropped lower. "We’ve had him under interrogation for days. Despite heavy mental and physical stress, he hasn’t said a single word beyond his name and even that likely isn’t real. He’s highly resistant to pain, and his discipline is almost unnerving.Whoever it is has had good training in resisting torture.”
Kushina nodded. Her earlier conversation with Hiruzen and Danzo had prepared her for the possibility that enemy ninjas might be involved in the whole affair.
He paused, then added, "There are mental seals in place. Strong ones. The Yamanaka team has been cautious even probing his surface thoughts. The moment they get close, the seal starts pulsing likely rigged to cause memory damage or full shutdown. We’re hoping we can find a way to crack those mind seals soon... but it’s delicate."
"Affiliation?"
"None confirmed. But he fights like someone who learned from the Hidden Cloud. His stance, flow, it’s textbook Kumogakure."
Kushina’s eyes sharpened. "Is he talking?"
"Not yet. But with you here... that might change."
They reached the final door, heavily barred and sealed with layered fuinjutsu. Ibiki pressed his hand to the seal matrix, and it glowed faintly before sliding open with a mechanical hiss.
The room beyond was dim, to the point where the walls could not be clearly distinguished, save for a harsh overhead chakra light casting sharp illumination over the bound figure in the center.
Gekko Ren hung suspended from the ceiling by reinforced chakra-suppression bindings. His arms were stretched wide above him, wrists locked into restraints bolted into a steel beam. His legs were splayed and tied down at the ankles to floor rings, rendering him completely immobilized. He was entirely nude, his pale, bruised skin marred with deep welts, cuts, burns and dried blood streaks.
'Hohoo, looks like the prisoner has something interesting down there-'
'Not now.' Kushina hushed her perverted voice before it tempted her to give a quick glance at the prisoner's cock.
The soles of his feet were raw; his fingernails had been removed. He appeared barely conscious, his head slumped forward without making a sound, matted dark hair hanging limp over his eyes. Even his breathing was so weak that Kushina would doubt he was alive if it weren't for Ibki telling her he was.
Despite the condition of his body, his mouth had not spoken a single word other than his false name. The air in the room was heavy with silence, not one of peace, but of unspoken resistance.
Kushina stepped inside slowly, her boots echoing with authority. She kept her expression composed, but her gaze swept across every detail.
She wasn’t alone. Just ahead, Anko Mitarashi was already inside the chamber, her once playful smirk twisted into something far more sadistic. Gone was the flirtatious, grinning woman from moments ago in the hallway. In her place was a predator.
Kushina watched as Anko approached the suspended prisoner. Her heels tapped lightly on the floor before stopping just beneath him. With a wicked gleam in her eye, she leaned in close and pressed her fingers against one of the deep cuts across his ribs, chakra subtly flaring.
The reaction was immediate.
Gekko Ren groaned lowly, a rattled, almost feral sound that echoed through the chamber. His head jerked back, eyes snapping open with unmistakable fury. He looked like a vengeful spirit,with his muscles contracting in a kind of silent scream and rage burning in his bloodshot gaze, aimed solely at the purple-haired kunoichi before him.
Anko tilted her head with a smirk. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead," she cooed. "You know, I was starting to think you'd gone and died on us. How disappointing that would’ve been."
Her voice was a purr edged with steel.
"But don’t worry... we brought you a guest."
She stepped aside, and Kushina walked into the spotlight cast by the overhead chakra lamp. The harsh white light traced along the edges of her figure, throwing her red hair into sharp contrast with the darkness.
Ren's eyes snapped to her.
They widened, just slightly, but enough.
Then, just as quickly, they returned to stillness.
He said nothing.
But everyone in the room saw it. He recognized her.
Kushina took a slow step back, her task complete. Whatever confirmation Ibiki and Anko had hoped for, they'd gotten it in that moment of recognition. She moved to the shadows beside Ibiki, folding her arms and silently observing. She remained just outside the central light, cloaked in the room's ambient darkness.
Anko approached the hanging man again, the same sadistic glint returning to her eyes. She leaned in close and purred, "So, my little princess knows how to react, huh? Haha."
Kushina watched, her breath slow, controlled. But her thoughts stirred.
'I like this girl. So dominant. So bossy,' a naughty voice whispered inside her. 'I wonder if she’s a full-on sadist... wouldn’t it be nice to just join her, torture him a little, tease the truth out with a whisper and a knife? Or torture the fuck out of him?'
Kushina clenched her jaw. 'Stop it,' she told herself, shaking the voice off like a flick of static.
'Mikoto always said there's power in control,' she thought suddenly, unbidden memories slipping in. 'She used to tell me about enemy shinobi she'd tortured with her sharingan before finishing them. How they’d tremble, scream, and beg. And how satisfying it felt to break their mind piece by piece.'
The image of her old friend, calm and sultry, casually mentioning the ways she had made hardened men whimper, flickered in her mind. Kushina had always brushed it off as Mikoto's dramatic flair.
But now, standing in the shadows of the T&I chamber, hearing Ren's low, broken groans echo off blood-slick walls, she understood a little more how it could feel empowering to some.
The naughty voice purred again. 'You could do it. You could walk over, take Anko’s tools, and make him sing for you. Just one whisper against his ear, a slow drag of a kunai, and he’d break. You’d love it. You want to. Admit it.'
‘I’m in no such things’ She fired back.
Just then, Ren let out a muffled grunt, followed by the wet thud of flesh being struck again. The heavy clang of chakra shackles straining against their restraints filled the chamber.
His voice cracked through the air a low, guttural groan, thick with pain and rage.
Anko laughed, light and cruel. "Oh, don’t be shy now, Ren. We’re just warming up. Ibiki, what do you think, should we go for the spine next? Or maybe see how long he lasts under nerve-channel probing?"
Ibiki’s voice remained steady and grave. "Let’s start with the mind-seal trace again. Keep him conscious. We need the memory pathways intact."
But when Ren continued to resist, snarling and groaning with unrelenting fury, Ibiki sighed and gave a nod to one of his aides.
"Call for Yamanaka Inoichi. We’ll attempt psychic entry."
Not long after, the T&I doors opened again and Inoichi walked in, dressed in his flak vest, long blond hair tied back. His eyes flicked from Ren to Kushina to Ibiki and then back to Kushina, and he blinked in surprise.
"Kushina-sama? You’re here personally?"
She nodded curtly. "We need answers."
He tried not to stare. He had, of course, heard rumors, particularly from Shikaku, who had complained more than once about Kushina's bothering him or how troublesome his office life was being, and yet never failed to mention her in their recent ‘meetings’. He never forgot to mention how she looked in that deputy Hokage uniform. Inoichi had laughed it off at first. It was subtle at first but now Inoichi knew that his lazy old friend was becoming dangerously infatuated. Shikaku’s marriage, his standing with Minato, all of it could be jeopardized.
He shook his head to clear the image of Yukino murdering Shikaku.
Now, standing here and watching Kushina exchange calm words with Anko, he understood. There was something about her. Something pulling. He had seen kunoichi with equal beauty. But Kushina? Kushina was magnetic.
And don't get him started on the outfit, he understood why shikaku was being pulled. Damn, he had always known she was beautiful. But looking at her now it was as if she was evolving. Even Inoichi remembered how she'd looked when she first took the deputy Hokage seat or when he had visited Minato at home. She appeared more composed, yes. Opposite of her boisterous nature he had seen. Her outfits it seems were evolving as well. commanding attention by just existing.
Ibiki came up beside him, muttering under his breath. "I hope you're ready for another round, this time for some new results hopefully."
Inoichi nodded. "We’ll see what we can do.” turning to redhead “Kushina-sama, seeing you’re here I imagine you would like to visit his mind as well ?"
She stepped forward without hesitation. "Of course, Let’s get this done."
Ren was unbound just enough to seat him upright in a steel chair, his wrists still cuffed in front of him, now locked into a restraining ring bolted into the center of a complex seal array etched into the floor. The symbols glowed faintly, red and violet swirls meant to both anchor and suppress.
Kushina stood behind him. Inoichi sat in front, placing his fingers gently over Ren's temples.
"Place your hand over mine, and assist with focus if I need grounding?" he instructed quietly.
Kushina reached forward, fingers brushing over his.
Inoichi exhaled slowly, fighting the heat rising up his neck as her palm settled over his. 'I’m married. I have a daughter. Focus, focus, focus...'
He began the jutsu. The seal circle flared around them. Ren groaned once, eyes rolling back in his head as the technique forced a bridge into his subconscious.
Kushina's chakra flared in tandem, stabilizing the spiral of memory and chaos. They were pulled inward.
The valley inside Ren's mind was strange, gray skies stretched endlessly above jagged black stone, and pillars of pulsing red light rose like twisted obelisks throughout the fractured mental terrain. The air shimmered with raw, living chakra, unstable and volatile. It felt less like memory and more like a prison built from anguish and iron will. Even Kushina, no stranger to sealing techniques, felt her stomach twist at the sheer intricacy.
"A Seal Valley," she whispered, awe tinged with tension in her voice. "And a damn complex one."
Inoichi gritted his teeth. "One of the most fortified I’ve seen. Multiple decoy layers, memory fragmentation, chakra-imbued memory barriers with reactive feedback. We force it, we’ll burn his psyche, erase everything."
Kushina stepped closer to the central seal gate, a massive obsidian arch carved with symbols that shifted subtly with each breath she took. The barriers weren't just defenses, they were sentient in design. They watched her.
She extended a hand, her chakra lacing gently toward the surface.
"I could probably overpower them," she murmured, her chakra threads tracing the glyphs. A hum resonated in her palm. "But I’d kill him in the process. The layers aren’t just holding data, they’re protecting something important. Personal."
Inoichi was visibly sweating. "We’ll have to study the structure first. Try to find cracks in the weave. Something reactive. Maybe exploit the trauma bindings."
"This seal work... it's like someone folded a blood pact into a psychological labyrinth," Kushina muttered. "Whoever built this was beyond skilled. Maybe Kumo, maybe not. But they didn't want this man to ever talk."
Moments later, both Inoichi and Kushina withdrew, the chakra seal slowly fading.
Ren was unconscious, his eyes rolled back and saliva dripping from his mouth..
Kushina exhaled deeply, brushing hair back from her forehead.
"I’ll return soon," she said, voice steely. "We’re going to crack that seal. I swear it. Dattebane"

--------TBH--------TBH--------TBH--------TBH-------

Kushina now sat in the office, one leg crossed over the other, arms folded loosely as her crimson gaze swept across the quiet room. Post noon light filtered through the large windows, casting angled shadows across her desk and papers. Her usual stack of work had been cleared swiftly. There was a rare, thin calm but not within her.
She had stopped thinking about what Kumo wanted from her but as soon as she had come back to office she had seen the old man still missing.
Her fingers tapped rhythmically against the edge of the desk, her nails clicking gently over the polished wood.
He still hasn’t come back.
Her senses honed and easily picked up the familiar signature of Hiruzen Sarutobi. The old man was still within the Hokage Tower. She could feel it.
But instead of returning to the office to face her and face the consequences of his actions, she thought darkly he had tucked himself into the bustle of the mission assignment desk below. Surrounded by shinobis, paper stacks, and mission briefings, he had essentially found himself a perfect cover in plain sight.
‘Coward.’
She leaned back in her chair with an annoyed sigh, her arms dropping to her sides as her head tilted toward the ceiling.
"Stupid old man," she muttered aloud.
Her gaze drifted to the wall-mounted clock. The hour was slipping by.
Right.
She had to go. Motono-san was expecting her at his office. This wasn’t something she could delay, no matter how much she wanted to drag the Third Hokage back into the office and punish him for his audacity.
"You’ll get what’s coming to you, this time for sure" she said under her breath, the corner of her mouth twitching upward in the faintest smirk.
She stood, adjusting the hem of her skirt and smoothing the front of her blouse. With graceful, measured strides, she walked out of her office, the door closing softly behind her.
--------TBH--------TBH--------TBH--------TBH-------
Kushina arrived at the large estate that doubled as Ambassador Motono's office and residence. The architecture was stately, befitting someone in his position, imposing gates, trimmed hedges, and an upper floor balcony flanked by carved columns.
As she stepped through the entryway, the two guards stationed by the front doors immediately bowed with practiced discipline.
"Kushina-sama."
Their expressions remained neutral, but she noticed the flicker in their eyes, a slight widening, a quick glance down her legs before their gazes snapped back to neutral. She was used to it by now. The outfit Mikoto and Hitomi had helped her pick out left little to the imagination.
She climbed the marble stairs toward the second floor with graceful confidence, inwardly grateful that Motono’s annoying nephew or any of the usual hangers-on weren’t loitering around today.
The hallway at the top led to a pair of elegant double doors. Outside them stood a sleek, dark-haired woman seated at a curved reception desk, Yukino, Motono’s personal secretary. Her expression remained impassive as her sharp eyes flicked up and down Kushina in one efficient glance.
"Kushina-sama," she said with a smooth voice, pressing a button to alert the ambassador.
Moments later, the tall wooden doors parted with a soft click, and Kushina stepped into the ambassador’s office.
Motono was already standing, mid-step from behind his desk, his refined face barely able to hide the way his eyes immediately roamed over her, from the tight blue blouse outlining her chest to the snug black pencil skirt clinging to her hips and thighs.
He didn’t even look ashamed.
'Kami be damned,' he thought, his mouth drying. 'She looks absolutely fabulous. If that skirt was just a couple of inches shorter, she would be perfect. What a vision. What a woman.'
Meanwhile, Kushina kept her face composed, shoulders straight, expression diplomatic. But her thoughts turned acidic the moment their eyes locked.
'Hitomi and Mikoto are definitely right,' she thought bitterly. 'He looks like he wants to fuck me. Right here on his polished floor.'
Her rational voice rose immediately. 'Disgusting. Absolutely vile. You came here to negotiate, not to be ogled like a bar maid.'
But her naughty voice slithered between the syllables. 'Wouldn't it be exciting though? Imagine someone else's cock inside us, stretching us in a room like this, all controlled and restrained...'
Kushina inhaled slightly through her nose and shook her head to shut up her naughty voice, the movement crisp but subtle.
"Kushina-dono, you look... fabulous, I must say," Motono said, voice thick with restraint, nearly failing to stop himself from licking his lips as he gestured inside.
"Thank you," Kushina replied coolly, stepping through the doorway with quiet elegance.
Still, as her heels clicked against the polished wood and the door clicked shut behind her with a deep, resonant thud, she felt a flutter in her chest, small, forbidden, but unmistakably there.
A traitorous little thrill.
She walked ahead, her stride measured and composed, every movement deliberate. Behind her, she could hear the soft fall of footsteps as Motono followed closely. She didn’t have to look to know his eyes were on her, burning a slow path down the line of her spine to the sway of her hips.
'He's walking behind me on purpose,' she thought with a wry twist but without doing much to stop it or prevent it from continuing.
Motono gestured to a nearby sitting area near the tall window. "Come, Kushina-dono. We’ve been so formal, now we’re friends, aren’t we? Let’s discuss this over some coffee."
She raised an eyebrow. Usually, she would sit opposite him across the imposing desk. The casual shift caught her slightly off-guard.
"You didn’t have to," she said smoothly.
"Nonsense," he replied as he guided her toward the plush chairs arranged around a delicate glass table. "Besides, I hear there’s talk of an upcoming interview. That’ll be part of today’s discussion. you have done your part, you look fabulous today, almost ready for the interview. Not that you look good other days. "
Kushina nodded a faint blush on her cheeks, taking the chair opposite him as he eased into his seat with relaxed confidence. From where she sat, the window behind him offered a view of his private garden, neatly landscaped with soft fountains and winding paths.
She crossed her legs, and as she did, the hem of her skirt crept further up her thighs, baring a tantalizing strip of skin between the end of the fabric and the top of her thigh-high stockings. Through the transparency of the glass table, the view wasn’t hidden.
Motono’s eyes lowered instantly, locking onto the exposed skin. As she gazed out the window, pretending not to notice, he smirked.
"It’s a nice view, isn’t it?" he said aloud, though his mind was far from the garden. 'Kami, I’m so infatuated with her... if only she’d part those legs just slightly,' he thought.
“You're right.” Kushina gave a slight nod, her attention still turned outward. Not noticing where his eyes had gone.
They exchanged thoughts on the upcoming interview, tone, scope, target publications, and how to position her upcoming initiative as a national priority.
"With the right angle, this could change public sentiment overnight," Motono said, leaning back in his chair. "But of course, presentation is everything."
Kushina gave a small nod, arms still crossed over her knee. "I’ve made my peace with being on stage. It's the aftermath that worries me."
"You’re sharper than most sitting on that tower," he said with a chuckle. Then he glanced toward the shelf. "Speaking of presentation, I have a perfect scroll for you. But I think my nephew might have taken it. so tomorrow same time I will definitely arrange for you"
"Of course, will see you tomorrow then," Kushina replied, her voice level and diplomatic.
'Kami-sama, it’s so tiring to talk to him... but my project needs him,' she thought with a mental sigh.
As she uncross her legs, Motono’s gaze immediately dropped again. This time, Kushina noticed.
And unconsciously, she slowed.
The controlled motion of her legs uncrossing took on a fluid elegance. She didn’t rush it. Her movements were deliberate and poised like a performance. Not too much, but just enough. The way her skirt shifted upward allowed a fleeting glimpse of her inner thighs, soft skin barely visible above the edge of her stockings between her thighs.
And there it was.
His eyes followed.
'So easy, just like Mikoto said' she thought with a smirk tugging inside her lips by Motono's predictable action.
But just as the satisfaction bloomed in her chest, the realization struck her like a jolt of cold water.
'Wait... what am I doing?' Her heart gave a small thud. As she quickly stood up. Her expression didn’t falter, but her spine straightened a little more sharply as she walked toward the doors with her face getting rosy and a little stumble.
As she walked toward the exit, her figure casting long shadows in the afternoon light.
'Damn so close, Still not the view I wanted, but close.' Motono thought
Outside Kushina quickly walked out of the building, and walked briskly down the stone path leading from Motono’s estate, her heels hitting the walkway a bit harder than usual, her strides longer than necessary.
Her cheeks burned, not from shame, but from disbelief.
'What was that?' she screamed internally. 'Did I seriously... almost give him a show?'
Her body still tingled from the awareness of his gaze. The way his eyes had followed her, the weight of them crawling along the backs of her thighs.
Her naughty voice emerged, smooth and slick like silk against her spine.
'You’re so light-hearted, Kushina. You should’ve continued. Lift that skirt just a little, arch that hip... Let him see. I could live off the heat in his eyes. Mmm, I could drink his lust.'
"Shut up, you creep, you made me do that" she muttered under her breath, catching herself as a couple passing Chuunin looked her way. She kept walking, head held high.
"Oh, my dear. I’m just a voice, I can't make you do anything. You did that all by yourself." Her mischievous voice responded as if amused by Kushina's refusal.
Her rational voice chimed in sharply, clipped and scolding.
'Good thing we stopped and walked out. He probably thinks we’re some flirtatious, easy slut of woman now, desperate for male attention. Hokage candidates don’t act like that.'
Kushina nodded slightly to herself, as if affirming the internal reprimand.
But the naughty voice just giggled, low and wicked.
'Even if he thinks so, That doesn't change the fact that you enjoyed teasing him and getting him excited with just a single move..'
She didn’t reply.
She didn’t have to.
The flutter in her stomach already had.
Her walk continued, heels striking more softly now as the Hokage Tower came into view. She said nothing and let her silence drown the chaos in her head. The red in her cheeks hadn’t faded, and neither had the echo of Motono’s eyes on something so simple as her thighs.
But the question lingered with every step, ‘Why did it thrill her so much to have that power?
’
--------TBH--------TBH--------TBH--------TBH-------
Kushina sat behind her wide Hokage desk, the light from the tall windows now casting long shadows across the office floor. The tower was quiet for once, the steady bustle outside muted by thick doors and reinforced walls. Alone.
She tried to busy herself.
Tried.
Everything that had happened today or worse, everything she had allowed to happen spun in loops inside her head. The way Motono had looked at her. The way she'd let him. Her skirt, her legs, her voice. The words she didn’t say. The invitation she didn’t stop.
Her heart thudded softly in her chest.
'I can’t believe I almost gave him a show... What the hell is wrong with me today?' she thought, hands motionless over the papers. 'I was excited. And aroused. Kami, I still am.'
She clenched her jaw and exhaled through her nose.
'I should go find the old man and take it out on him. Spar. Beat him until this heat in me has somewhere to go.'
But she didn’t stand.
Her eyes dropped to the surface of her desk, but her focus was no longer on the parchment spread across it. Her thighs shifted slightly under the desk. She wasn’t even thinking clearly anymore. Just feeling.
She could feel the warmth pulsing between her legs. The faint throb of her pussy, slick from tension and the weight of everything she hadn’t acted on.
And then the voice. That voice.
‘Mmm, we’re alone now, aren’t we? Just slip a hand under that pretty skirt. You know you want to. One finger... maybe two. Just until the edge fades.’
Her thighs parted slightly.
The movement was almost unintentional. Almost.
Her hand twitched above her lap.
‘Just a brush. Just a tease. You earned it. You made all those men watch and ache. Shouldn’t you get to enjoy the power too?’
"No," she whispered to herself.
The rational voice was back.
‘This is your office. Your seat of power. You’re not some slut who gets off to the gaze of men. Even if you are alone here, that's no excuse to put yourself down like that.’
But the warmth didn’t leave. Her pulse beat low, steady, insistent. She glanced at the door.. Still locked.
Her legs were still parted, the hem of her skirt riding high. Her panties clung almost damp to her heated folds. Her fingers were already sliding down her thigh before she stopped herself. Her breath hitched.
‘Just a little further,’ the lustful voice coaxed, warm and silken. ‘Just a rub, Kushina. It’s not like you haven’t done worse. He wanted it, and we could have given it, but we denied it. We were in control there, and we still are here...’
Her rational voice fought to steady her. ‘You are the deputy Hokage. This is not how a leader behaves. Close your legs and pick up a report.’
Her hand trembled. Her eyes flicked to the door again.
‘It’s locked. No one would know, the naughty voice whispered. Imagine slipping your fingers past that wet silk. Imagine coming in this very chair, with all your power at your fingertips.’
Her thighs tensed. Her lips parted in a soft breath.
Then she snapped upright.
'No. Not here.'
She pushed the chair back with a sudden creak, the sound startling in the quiet room. With forceful resolve, she reached for a mission report from the side stack, holding it like a shield against the lust curling in her stomach.
She forced her eyes to the words.
‘Team 12 reported light skirmishes near the border with Taki. Two enemy scouts subdued. No casualties. Team returned without significant injury. Awaiting follow-up orders.’
She read it again, forcing her attention into the ink.
Her breathing slowed. Her thighs closed. Her pulse eased.
But the ache... it lingered.
And the voice, quieter now, still whispered with a smile.
‘Later then... somewhere better.’ a naughty voice purred which she ignored as she glanced up at the clock on her office wall and exhaled softly.
'It’s almost time to pick up the kids...'
She leaned back in her chair, hand brushing against her lips as a reluctant sigh escaped.
'But Mikoto will be there too. And in my current state, I do not want to deal with her. That smug bitch will definitely pull something, and I won’t be able to stop it.'
Her mind wandered briefly too vividly, to the tool Mikoto had used last time and that it was still in her house, hidden in her closet. How that pink toy she used on her to open her up and penetrate her again and again in a way she didn't know that she longed for so much, but frustratingly lacked something essential that she had only felt with her husband's cock. The memory sent a wave of heat spiraling through her lower belly. She growled into her hands, pressing her palms over her face.
"Minato... come back home, please," she muttered out loud, voice muffled against her fingers.
Her eyes flicked to the clock again.
'I still promised Naruto and Karin I’d pick them up today.'
With a deep breath, she formed a cross-hand seal.
Poof!
A clone appeared beside her in a swirl of smoke, identical in every way.
Kushina locked eyes with it, nodding firmly.
"Pick the kids up. Take them for ramen or something. When they’re home and safe, dispel."
"Hai," the clone answered obediently, turning toward the door.
As it stepped out of the room, Kushina returned to her paperwork.
She didn’t notice the faint smirk curling on the clone’s lips as it disappeared from sight.

TBC

Ok, here's the next update. How as it well definitely not as hot as last one right but for all slow burn fans this is for you.
Also I post chapters on discord as early release
How was the chapter? What do you expect next?
I would like to see some predictions, hehe?
What could be in the cards for Kushina on the next day ?
Do let me hear your thoughts. Did it come out as unexpected? Rate it out of 10.
Suppose you have any plot that can be added to Training, the redhead. Do let me know.
I have started posting some pictures and renders related to the story on pixiv, Deviantart, and Twitter. The username is the same, "MrVectorPath." If I have time, I will try to turn this into a visual novel, if you would like to help me, do join me on discord.
I also have made P-a-t-r-e-o-n under the same username where I post high-resolution and Nsfw versions of some pictures. It's not required to support it, but if you are interested, it's there.
Currently, there are no tiers for fanfiction as of now, but I will add if people are interested and maybe give out advanced chapters and include some scenes from the supporters.
Please comment/Review. Do post what you liked and What you didn't.
I would love to hear from you.
Suppose you have any questions or suggestions regarding the plot. I would be happy to answer them, and if tips are leaning to story design, I would definitely try to include them. Kindly do post in review.

Again if you want to join my discord server, feel free to join here. You can join my discord server (Sublime Vectors)
Server invite code: N8bhcKVXd5
Until next time!!
MrVectorPath Out!!
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To Be Hokage