Adopted by Tsunade [195-196] (Patreon)

Chapter 195: Nun Mikoto

Uchiha clan compound.

Because of Natsume's decision, Mikoto and the others had already moved back.

Compared to the liveliness of the past, it was much quieter now.

But they were all quite satisfied.

At least they were still alive.

Even if a few harbored disloyal thoughts, with Shisui and Izumi around, they could only bury them deep in their hearts.

Besides, Natsume's strength made them afraid to entertain any other ideas.

The current consensus was to revitalize the Uchiha clan.

It would take a long time, but there was hope.

Especially with geniuses like Shisui, Izumi, and Sasuke still around.

It wouldn't be long before, at least in reputation, they would catch up to their former glory.

 "Are you full?"

Mikoto's tone was gentle, a maternal glow on her beautiful face.

 "Full!"

Sasuke nodded hard.

After his mother's return, his personality had changed a little.

He wasn't as cold as before.

 "That's good."

Mikoto's lips curved in a slight smile.

 "I'm going to train!"

Sasuke stood up, full of fighting spirit.

His greatest wish now was that one day he could defeat Itachi and avenge his father, Uchiha Fugaku.

Once that was done, he could take care of his mother in peace and bring glory to the Uchiha clan again.

 "Go on."

Mikoto reached out to rub his head. "Don't stay out too late. If you're tired, go back to your room and rest."

 "Mm."

Sasuke flashed her a smile. "I'll be careful."

With that, he rose from the table and left.

Mikoto only withdrew her gaze after he disappeared from sight.

She tidied the table, washed the dishes, and returned to her room.

 "Sasuke."

Mikoto opened the window.

Looking at Sasuke training in the courtyard, she sighed softly.

Bearing a blood-deep grudge was too heavy a burden for a ten-year-old child.

Even she sometimes felt extraordinarily tired.

Especially since the enemy was Itachi—

Her own son, Sasuke's older brother.

That feeling was all the more unbearable.

Sometimes Mikoto even thought: perhaps she should stop trying and let Natsume make a move.

With his strength, dealing with Itachi would be effortless.

And the price she paid would only be… At that thought, she felt lost.

Unwittingly, she seemed to have grown to like that feeling.

She no longer thought of it as a price, but as some kind of enjoyment.

Mikoto quickly shook her head, driving out her lax thoughts.

Guilt surfaced in her eyes as she looked at Sasuke.

To even have such an idea—she truly didn't deserve to be a mother.

Mikoto stood and opened the wardrobe.

She put on a black nun's habit.

Perhaps it was because of Natsume's words.

She felt that after changing into this outfit, the sins in her heart were indeed somewhat eased.

Natsume appeared in the room via Flying Thunder God.

Mikoto pressed her palms together, closed her eyes, and knelt on the tatami with a devout, solemn expression, as if in prayer.

Her legs were encased in black garter stockings, faintly showing skin tone, quite alluring.

But paired with her actions, it looked… incongruous.

Natsume tugged at the corner of his mouth.

This outfit really isn't for praying.

 "What are you doing?"

Natsume stepped forward, slipped his arms under her armpits, and hugged her.

Mikoto let out an involuntary "ah."

Perhaps she hadn't noticed him and was startled.

 "N-nothing."

Mikoto's face flushed slightly as she leaned into his arms.

Of course, she didn't dare tell him what she had just been thinking.

 "Oh."

Natsume didn't press.

 "When you met, did Sasuke awaken his eyes?"

 "Three-tomoe Sharingan."

Mikoto felt herself growing hot; her earlier prayers seemed to have been in vain.

She lamented inwardly: I am truly a woman lacking in resolve.

 "For his age, three tomoe is already excellent."

Natsume wasn't surprised.

Although Mikoto's ocular technique amplified emotions, it still wasn't that easy.

Awakening the Mangekyo Sharingan required a certain physical foundation.

Give it a few more years—Sasuke would likely awaken it.

 "Mm."

Mikoto answered with her head lowered.

 "When you see Tsunade, use Amatsumika on her once."

Natsume remembered business matters; naturally, his hands had already climbed to the summit.

 "Huh?"

Mikoto instinctively raised her head in surprise.

 "Um… the prerequisite for using Amatsumika on someone else is that she's already pregnant."

She didn't quite understand why Natsume wanted to deal with Tsunade, but she still offered the reminder.

Amatsumika could control her own pregnancy, but couldn't make something from nothing in another.

She only knew Natsume and Tsunade were master and disciple; she thought he had some strange idea.

At the same time, she couldn't help but worry.

Because she and Tsunade had a good relationship, she didn't want to see her in danger.

 "She's pregnant."

Natsume smiled.

 "What?!"

Mikoto's eyes widened. The shock even overshadowed other surging emotions.

Tsunade pregnant?

How could that be?

She had never heard of anyone Tsunade liked.

Whose was it?

Mikoto noticed Natsume's smile. Her body stiffened. Could it be his?

Bastard!

How could he do that?

Her first reaction was that Tsunade, like her, had been coerced.

 "You…"

She bit her lip, hesitating to speak.

 "Feels like you're thinking something impolite."

Natsume moved in front of her, pinched her chin, and studied her expression.

Hmm. There was anger, and fear.

 "Tsunade isn't like you."

Natsume smiled. "She truly loves me."

Mikoto was a bit dazed.

Under the night sky, Natsume's smile was especially warm, like spring itself.

His tone carried deep affection and tenderness.

A trace of jealousy suddenly welled up in her heart.

But she quickly shook her head.

She didn't believe it.

The age gap between the two was too large.

No matter how she looked at it, it didn't feel right.

Moreover, from what she knew of Tsunade, she thought it would be very hard for her to fall in love again.

 "If you don't believe it, go verify it. You have Mangekyo Sharingan—between compulsion and coercion, you should be able to tell."

Natsume stopped explaining—such things couldn't be explained clearly.

After all, Mikoto had experienced it personally and no longer believed in his character.

 "Once you're sure, remember to cast Amatsumika on her."

Natsume ruffled her hair.

Mikoto nodded.

If it really was coercion, perhaps she could try to save Tsunade.

But if not, she didn't know how she should feel.

 "Aunt Mikoto, by the way, awakening your eyes was your request to begin with."

Natsume suddenly realized the crux. "So why are you blaming me now?"

 "…"

Mikoto was speechless.

Though Natsume wasn't wrong, she hadn't expected it to be that method of awakening.

 "Sorry."

Mikoto bowed her head.

 "Apologies need sincerity."

Natsume lay down on the tatami and patted his thigh. "Sit here."

Mikoto blushed again and pressed her lips together.

She stood, revealing her long, shapely legs encased in black stockings.

As her stockinged feet stepped on the floor, a faint friction sound rose.

She bent slightly; the necklace at her snow-white neck swayed side to side.

She adjusted herself and perched her pert hips on Natsume's thigh. The white skirt hem fell to the floor.

 "Aunt Mikoto, do you know the story of the nun and the fish?"

Natsume looked at her somewhat tired face and asked.

 "N-no."

Mikoto lightly bit her red lip and shook her head.

 "Blackfish—ferocious by nature with a huge appetite. Heard of it?"

Natsume asked again.

Mikoto shook her head again.

 "Then I'll show you."

Natsume's voice carried a teasing lilt as he shifted beneath her, his hands gently but firmly guiding her position. The room was dimly lit by the moonlight filtering through the window, casting soft shadows over their forms.

Mikoto's heart raced, a mix of anticipation and lingering guilt swirling within her, but the warmth of his touch began to melt away her reservations.

He started by exploring her with deliberate care, his fingers tracing the curves of her body over the fabric of her nun's habit. The material was thin, clinging to her full breasts and the gentle swell of her hips. Natsume's palms cupped her softness, kneading with a rhythm that sent shivers through her. She gasped softly as he squeezed, feeling the peaks of her breasts harden under his attention, the sensation building a slow fire in her core. His touch was insistent yet tender, roaming from her chest to her waist, pulling her closer until she was fully seated on his lap, her thighs parting slightly to accommodate him.

Mikoto's breath hitched as he began to undress her, his hands sliding up to the neckline of her habit. With a slow pull, he parted the fabric, revealing the pale, smooth skin of her shoulders and the elegant lines of her collarbone.

The garment slipped down, exposing her bare breasts—full and rounded, their rosy tips erect in the cool air. She felt exposed, vulnerable, yet a thrill of pleasure coursed through her as his eyes drank in the sight. Natsume leaned in, his lips brushing against her skin, kissing a trail from her neck to the valley between her breasts.

His hands continued their exploration, one sliding down to her thigh, fingers slipping under the hem of her skirt to caress the silky texture of her stockings.

She arched slightly, a soft moan escaping her lips as he peeled away more layers.

The habit fell to her waist, and he tugged at the skirt beneath, lifting her hips to slide it off completely. Now she sat in just her black garter stockings and the delicate undergarments that barely concealed her most intimate areas.

Natsume's fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, drawing them down her legs with agonizing slowness, revealing the soft, dark curls at the apex of her thighs and the glistening evidence of her growing arousal.

Her body trembled with a blend of embarrassment and desire, her skin flushing a deep pink.

Natsume undressed himself next, shedding his clothes with efficient grace, his toned form coming into view—broad shoulders, defined muscles, and the rigid length of his manhood, thick and pulsing with need. Mikoto's eyes widened at the sight, her earlier metaphor of the "blackfish" now vividly real before her. It stood proud, its size and firmness evoking that ferocious appetite he had described, ready to claim her.

He positioned her carefully, guiding her to straddle him fully on the tatami. His hands roamed again, groping her breasts with renewed fervor, thumbs circling the sensitive buds while his other hand slipped between her thighs.

Fingers explored her folds, parting the slick warmth and teasing the pearl at her center.

Mikoto's head fell back, waves of pleasure radiating from his touch. She felt herself yielding, her body responding with a rush of heat and wetness that made her ache for more.

Satisfaction bloomed in her chest as he whispered encouragements, his voice low and reassuring, affirming the beauty of her surrender.

As their bodies aligned, Natsume entered her slowly, inch by inch, filling her with his girth.

The sensation was exquisite—a deep, stretching fullness that made her gasp and cling to his shoulders. She rocked against him, her hips moving in tandem with his thrusts, each motion building a symphony of pleasure. Her inner walls clenched around him, drawing him deeper, while his hands gripped her hips, guiding the rhythm.

The friction sparked electric tingles through her nerves, her breaths coming in ragged bursts as ecstasy mounted.

They moved together for what felt like an eternity, the scene unfolding in layers of intimacy.

Natsume's lips captured hers in a passionate kiss, tongues dancing as his hands continued to caress and grope—squeezing her breasts, tracing the curve of her back, and occasionally slipping down to where they were joined, heightening her sensations.

Mikoto felt waves of delight crashing over her, her body alive with satisfaction, every touch erasing the day's burdens. She lost herself in the rhythm, her moans growing louder, muffled against his skin.

The pleasure built relentlessly, coiling tight within her until it shattered in a powerful orgasm. Her body convulsed, inner muscles fluttering around him as ecstasy flooded her senses, leaving her trembling and breathless. Natsume held her through it, his own pace quickening, drawing out her bliss with steady, deep strokes. She rode the aftershocks, a profound sense of fulfillment washing over her, her mind hazy with contentment.

He wasn't done yet; with gentle insistence, he shifted their positions, laying her back on the tatami and settling between her legs.

Entering her again, he thrust with renewed vigor, his manhood delving into her welcoming depths.

Mikoto wrapped her stockinged legs around him, pulling him closer, her hands roaming his back as pleasure surged anew.

The intimacy deepened, their bodies slick with sweat, the air filled with the soft sounds of their union.

Another peak approached for her, this one even more intense. She cried out softly as orgasm claimed her once more, her essence pulsing around him in rhythmic waves.

Natsume followed soon after, his release flooding her in a warm rush, filling her completely with his seed—a creampie that left her feeling utterly claimed and satisfied. He remained inside her for a lingering moment, their breaths mingling as the afterglow enveloped them.

Night fell fully, the room quiet save for their contented sighs. Perhaps because she had been so thoroughly sated, Mikoto felt a deep sense of peace, her earlier hunger transformed into a profound, lingering warmth.

…

Natsume returned to the Land of Snow.

"Lady Goddess, it's so late—aren't you going to rest?"

Natsume pushed open the door and entered the study.

"Waiting for you."

Kaguya lifted her head and glanced at him, her tone cool.

Natsume felt a twinge of guilt.

He stepped forward, just about to speak, when Kaguya reached out and smoothed the collar he had inadvertently wrinkled from Mikoto.

"Look at this."

She withdrew her hand and handed him a book.

Natsume skimmed it and was surprised—it was about the Son of the Land of Ancestors.

More precisely, about him.

It said the Son of the Land of Ancestors pacified the ancient age of chaos and personally entrusted the shinobi world to the Sage of Six Paths, opening an era of prosperity.

But it didn't mention Kaguya.

That wasn't the Sage's fault.

It was at Natsume's instruction.

Mainly, he feared causing a butterfly effect.

Strictly speaking, even the Son of the Land of Ancestors shouldn't be mentioned.

Why?

Natsume thought perhaps Hagoromo felt guilty.

After all, he missed calling him "father."

Ahem.

No matter. I'll make it up to you.

One day I'll go to the Pure Land and help you fulfill that dream.

Thinking of that scene, Natsume couldn't help but smile.

Kaguya watched him, the corner of her mouth faintly curving.

"Um… without you, Lady Goddess—please don't be offended."

Natsume came back to himself, noticed her gaze, and quickly said, "One day, the shinobi world will know your deeds."

"It's meaningless."

Kaguya shook her head. She didn't care about empty fame.

Her goals were pure: plant the Tree and become stronger.

Natsume knew her temperament and dropped the topic. "It's late. Lady Goddess, please rest."

"I don't need rest."

Kaguya sat back at the desk and picked up another book.

Clearly, she found this new world intriguing.

Natsume thought for a moment and left the study.

Moments later, he returned with a coat.

"Lady Goddess, it's cool at night."

He draped it over her shoulders and lightly smoothed her silvery hair.

Kaguya looked up, snow-white eyes gazing at him.

She wouldn't feel cold.

But why did she feel a genuine warmth?

A faint confusion colored her fair face.

"What is it?"

Seeing her stare, Natsume was puzzled.

"Go to sleep."

Kaguya set down the book, stood, took his hand, and led him back to the room.

"Lady Goddess, you rest. I'll take my leave."

Natsume didn't understand her sudden change of mind, but he was quite self-aware.

"Will you stay with me?"

Kaguya said expressionlessly, "The book said people who like each other can sleep together."

Which book are you talking about?

Nicely done!

Natsume hesitated a few seconds. "Wouldn't that be improper? I'm only a servant."

"But I like you."

Kaguya delivered a heart-stirring confession in the coldest tone.

Natsume froze.

Then he felt a little amused.

Kaguya hugged him to sleep—and that was it.

They didn't even take off their clothes.

Natsume ground his teeth. Who wrote that book? Damn it, did they only write half?

In my previous life, readers would've cursed them.

Axed!

Still, Natsume had been through two "great battles" tonight, so he wasn't too upset.

He pressed his cheek to Kaguya's—soft, slightly cool, different from humans.

It made him think of a yokai called Yuki Onna.

…

Morning.

Natsume woke.

He started; Kaguya was hugging him tightly.

No wonder he felt a bit short of breath.

He almost flashed back to years ago, when Tsunade used him as a body pillow.

Natsume stared at Kaguya's serene face.

After a moment, her long lashes fluttered and her snow-white eyes opened.

Her lips pressed together slightly—she had slept very well last night.

Perhaps because she had a warm pillow.

New and curious.

Kaguya reached out, pinched his cheek, then kissed his forehead.

After breakfast, Natsume returned to Konoha.

Tsunade still hadn't woken.

Natsume's three years of longing were a bit much.

She was exhausted.

Most importantly, she wanted to sleep in.

With Natsume back, she could happily slack off and not manage Konoha.

"Are you getting up?"

Natsume asked softly.

"…"

Tsunade's beautiful sleeping face didn't change in the slightest.

Natsume left the room.

"Shizune, please prepare breakfast for Tsunade in a bit."

"Mm."

Shizune nodded reflexively, then blushed.

Is Lady Tsunade… out of stamina again?

Chapter 196: Ino Wants to Go Out

Back at the Hokage building, Natsume felt a bit sentimental.

To outsiders, he'd only been gone two days, but in truth it had been three years.

"Lady Tsun—Natsume?"

Kurenai Yuhi's red lips parted slightly in surprise.

"Kurenai."

Natsume raised a brow.

Kurenai wasn't wearing that secretary uniform with the pencil skirt—she'd switched back to her previous outfit.

That was a bit on the nose.

Was she dressing like this just for him?

Natsume smiled gently. "So surprised to see me?"

"Because Lady Tsunade suddenly took over temporarily, I thought you might not be back so soon."

Kurenai recovered and explained.

In fact, it was more than that.

With Tsunade stepping in again, many suspected Natsume had been seriously injured in the previous battle and needed to recuperate.

Everyone knew: the stronger the technique, the greater the side effects.

The speculation was reasonable.

But seeing Natsume return unscathed, she immediately relaxed.

Mm, I'll wear the secretary uniform again tomorrow.

With Tsunade temporarily in charge before, she'd felt it was inappropriate, so she hadn't worn it.

"It's good that you're back."

Kurenai looked him up and down. "I'm more used to dealing with you."

"If Sensei hears that, she'll be mad."

Natsume chuckled.

"Then don't let her know."

Kurenai blinked, a hint of playful mischief adding a sultry charm.

Natsume didn't mind the banter. "Teacher won't find out."

"These are the secretariat's proposed alliance terms."

Kurenai stepped forward on her long legs and put a file on the desk.

"Mm."

Natsume opened it.

There weren't many conditions, but each was lethal.

Gaara must remain in Konoha.

Surrender Sunagakure's puppet techniques.

Half of the Land of Wind's mission commissions are to be allocated to Konoha.

Well then.

With these three, Sunagakure would have almost no chance to recover.

Natsume rubbed his chin.

Suna definitely wouldn't agree.

But the bigger fist makes the rules.

After a few rounds of negotiation, they'd likely grit their teeth and accept.

However, Natsume had a better idea.

Skynet.

So many Suna shinobi—how could he waste them?

He could harvest chakra and gain Fate Points.

Why not?

The Sacred Ring of Fate had a rule: controlled shinobi couldn't continuously generate Fate Points.

But with Skynet, by issuing missions and having them volunteer, it wasn't control.

"Who's coming to negotiate from Suna?"

Natsume asked.

"Sand's advisor, Elder Chiyo."

Kurenai answered at once.

Chiyo?

With Rasa and Gaara captured, Suna only had Chiyo and Ebizo with real clout.

Natsume wasn't surprised.

"Where is Rasa now?"

"In ANBU custody."

Kurenai added, "Because he's the Kazekage, it's sensitive, so he's not in Konoha's maximum-security prison."

The Konoha penitentiary was under the Police Force.

Prison was actually quite safe.

But its location was known, making a Suna jailbreak likely.

ANBU custody meant only a few knew where he was.

Much safer.

"I want a private chat with Chiyo and Rasa."

Natsume set down the file. "Prepare the conference room. No one else near."

"Understood."

Kurenai nodded. She had questions but didn't ask.

Tsunade's prior order had been to negotiate publicly before many jonin, showcasing Konoha's triumph.

Natsume's plan was the opposite.

But Kurenai knew her place.

Whoever the Hokage was, that's who she served.

"Kurenai, how is Yakumo Kurama now?"

Natsume suddenly remembered the little girl with the special genjutsu bloodline limit.

"She wants to be a ninja, but her body won't allow it."

Worry flashed across Kurenai's face. "If this continues, her health will worsen."

"Don't stop her."

Natsume knew where her physical issue lay.

Before, he couldn't handle it; now he could.

Kurenai paused, her gaze landing on his face.

She'd meant to question him, but suddenly recalled his awe-inspiring display that day and relaxed.

With that kind of power, he probably had a way to cure Yakumo.

"In a couple days, when there's time, have her come see me."

Natsume thought for a moment.

"Yes."

Kurenai bowed slightly; the black mesh of her top pressed pale skin into relief.

Natsume blinked.

Hidden depths.

How had he only noticed now?

Lounging in the Hokage's chair, he stretched as he watched her leave.

He really wasn't in that kind of mood.

But as a man, appreciating beauty was normal, right?

After half an hour of loafing, the office door opened again.

It was Yamanaka Ino.

"Natsume-kun!"

The girl's voice rose, full of youthful energy.

Her eyes shone with adoration. "Natsume-kun, you were amazing!"

She was clearly referring to him pummeling Sunagakure the other day.

Girls often carried a hero's dream.

Natsume fit the bill.

And he was someone she liked.

Double happiness.

Being gazed at like that by such a pretty girl, Natsume was quite pleased.

He waved it off. "It was nothing."

Natsume-kun really is different.

Anyone else would be bragging to the world.

Seeing his demeanor, Ino's eyes grew even brighter.

The man I've set my sights on.

She bit her lip unconsciously. "Natsume-kun, could you take me out next time?"

Ino went for it.

Natsume was a bit surprised; looking at her cute face, he smiled.

"Medical-nin training is pretty boring, huh?"

"No."

Ino shook her head quickly. "I think real combat makes you improve faster, so I want to go on missions with you."

A decent excuse.

Natsume's gaze fell on her fair forehead. "How's your Yin Seal coming?"

She'd been studying under Tsunade for more than three years.

In the original, Sakura took three years.

Even if Ino was a bit behind, she should have results.

"Sensei says I'm young, so my chakra accumulation is slower. It'll take longer."

Ino smiled, then added, "At most one more year and I'll have it."

"Then your medical-nin skills must be quite good."

After a moment's thought, and seeing her expectant look, Natsume nodded. "I'll take you next time."

Ino pumped her arms in excitement.

Golden hair scattered with her movement.

She tucked a lock behind her ear. "Thank you."

"It's nothing."

Natsume smiled. "As Hokage, how could I refuse a pretty girl's request?"

Pretty girl?

Ino's heart clenched; she ducked her head, face scarlet.

Just then, there was a knock.

She startled and looked up.

Then paused.

Why am I panicking?

Ino took a deep breath, her slim, toned waist rising and falling lightly.

"Natsume-kun, I won't bother you."

She opened the door and briefly met Kurenai's eyes, then hurried off.

Ino, huh?

Kurenai refocused. As a woman, she noticed the lingering blush on Ino's face.

Clearly, she liked Natsume.

Thinking it over, it wasn't surprising.

Natsume was exceedingly desirable.

Hokage—high status, strong, handsome.

What girl wouldn't be moved?

Kurenai sighed softly, then resumed her neutral expression.

"Lord Natsume, Chiyo and Rasa are waiting in the conference room."

"Good."

Natsume headed there.

Kurenai stopped at the door—she neither entered nor left, but guarded the entrance.

As Hokage's secretary and bodyguard, it was appropriate.

Natsume opened the door.

Chiyo and Rasa immediately stopped talking and looked at him.

Their expressions were different.

Rasa had seen True Several Thousand Hands and Top Transformed Buddha.

Seeing Natsume again, he recalled the previous days—and fear naturally rose on his face.

He would likely never forget that terrifying scene.

After fear came regret.

If not for Danzo Shimura's instigation, how could he have entertained such thoughts?

By Sunagakure's normal standards, he would never have gone to war with Konoha.

Damn Danzo!

Rasa cursed him over and over.

Chiyo hadn't taken part in that battle, but knew the gist.

She was more composed than Rasa.

Winner takes all—nothing more to say.

And Rasa's judgment itself hadn't been wrong.

The only problem was that Natsume's strength far exceeded expectations.

Thinking that he was Tsunade's disciple, Chiyo couldn't help but feel a bit wistful.

The Second Shinobi War.

Suna and Konoha clashed.

Back then, Chiyo was perhaps the strongest puppeteer and the greatest poison master.

Relying on her fearsome toxins, Sunagakure had the upper hand for a time.

Until Tsunade appeared and broke all her poisons.

Add in Konoha's White Fang, Hatake Sakumo, who killed her son and daughter-in-law—

In the end, Suna's efforts came to nothing.

Chiyo had taken Tsunade as a lifelong rival, always hoping to someday defeat her.

But she hadn't expected her disciple to be even more formidable, pushing Suna to the brink.

Konoha truly was a place where talents flourished.

"Elder Chiyo, I've long admired your name."

Natsume greeted her with a smile. "I've often heard my teacher speak of you."

In truth, he hadn't.

Tsunade wouldn't bring up the Second War.

He'd heard it in his past life; he truly had long known of her.

Chiyo was slightly taken aback.

He seemed easier to talk to than she'd imagined.

Chiyo nodded. "Hokage-dono, so young and so accomplished—this old woman is impressed."