"You know, when we get to Konoha, I'm going to put you in a proper yukata," I murmured into the darkness. "None of this peasant cotton nonsense. Silk. Deep blues and rich purples that'll make your skin look like porcelain." I paused, smirking to myself. "Mmm. We'll need several. And in variety. I've got a thing for women in yukata... don't think I'll be able to keep my hands to myself. My heart breaks thinking of how many I will have to tear apart."
My hand traced lazy patterns on her warm skin. Tsunami was sprawled across my chest, completely unconscious, her breathing deep and even against my collarbone. Her hair was a wild mess, dark strands clinging to both our skin with dried sweat.
The civilian sealing scroll project had real potential—if I could crack the chakra-to-mechanical energy conversion properly. Military applications alone would set us up for life, but the commercial possibilities were even more exciting. Refrigeration, transportation, lighting systems that didn't require constant chakra input from shinobi...
"And I'm going to feed you properly," I continued, though she showed no signs of hearing any of that. "These ribs I can count through your skin—that's ending immediately. I want curves to grab when I'm fucking you senseless."
My palm flattened against her back, feeling the delicate ridge of her spine, the sharp edges of shoulder blades that spoke of too many lean months. Her body was a study in elegant malnutrition—still beautiful, but worn thin by years of making do with too little. The slight hollow of her lower back, the way her hip bones pressed against me—it all told the same story of survival rather than thriving.
If sealing tech didn't pan out, there was always the pizza angle. Pizza was ranked the most loved food in my previous world. This one wouldn't be much different. It had wheat, tomatoes, cheese—all the fundamentals.
The concept was universal enough that even medieval-level technology could handle it. This world has electricity. Plus, introducing a completely foreign cuisine would create its own market demand. Revolutionary food concepts had built empires in my previous world.
"I've been thinking about getting a bigger place anyway," I murmured, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. Tsunami's unconscious form moved with me like water, molding against my side without waking. "My current apartment is just four walls and basic furniture. But for a family, and expanding one at that..."
That would be a bit of a problem. A logging for a constantly expanding family…. I wanted to slap myself for even thinking that. It was not a problem. I just need to figure things out.
I could always lean on that merchant. The man owed his life to my non-intervention during his shady meeting—surely that was worth a favorable real estate arrangement. Not blackmail, exactly. More like... aggressive gratitude collection.
"You're going to love the markets in Konoha," I said, running my fingers through her tangled hair. "Fresh vegetables year-round, meat that doesn't taste like it's been salted for preservation, actual variety in your meals. Probably." I snorted softly. "I've rarely spent much time down there much myself. But you… you'll make it worth going."
She made a small sound in her sleep, something between contentment and exhaustion. Her face, relaxed in unconsciousness, looked younger—less careworn, more like the beauty she must have been before life ground her down. High cheekbones, full lips slightly parted and slightly bruised, delicate features that spoke of beauty that transcended mere youth.
The shop idea had merit beyond simple profit. Giving Inari legitimate work, something that utilized his energy without the constant danger of merchant escorts... the kid was bright, and he'd earned his place in my plans by being man enough to take those risks for his mother's sake.
"And speaking of eating," I continued my one-sided conversation, hand sliding down to rest on the gentle curve of her hip, "you're going to discover that I'm a man of considerable appetite. In all things. Not much of a picky eater, but I'm a big sucker for homemade food."
Tsunami was intoxicating. The contrast between her maternal warmth and the way she'd completely surrendered to my touch—it was better than any fantasy I could have imagined.
It made me horny and greedy. I wondered if I would one day hold Kushina like these. The memory of the redhead mild brought a sour taste in my mouth for the ruined panties.
It's rude to think of another woman. I made to shake my head from the regrets, but stopped, afraid of waking Tsunami.
Ice cream was another possibility if the pizza venture proved too ambitious initially. A second contingency plan.
They had something they called ice cream in this world—shaved ice doused in syrup, barely cold and cloyingly sweet. It wasn't the same. Not even close.
Real ice cream… that was different. Thick, creamy, frozen smooth—not just sugar over crushed snow and…..
And I'd only managed to make it twice in my old life, after things got good enough that I wasn't living off stale bread and spite. Both times were disasters.
Still, it was worth figuring out. People would kill for something like that in summer. I would. And unlike pizza, it didn't need a brick oven or a perfectly fermented dough—just technique, patience, and the right ingredients.
I just needed to remember what the hell went wrong with my custard base last time.
"You're going to love Konoha winters," I said, squeezing gently, feeling the give of flesh that was finally, finally mine to touch whenever I pleased. "All those cold nights when you'll need someone to keep you warm. Though honestly, the way you respond to my touch, I don't think we'll have trouble generating heat."
She shifted slightly in her sleep, unconsciously pressing closer to my warmth. The movement made her thighs part slightly, and I caught a glimpse of the aftermath of our coupling—my cum still seeping from between her swollen pussy lips, her inner thighs slick with the evidence of a thorough fucking.
"I hope you're prepared for a very thorough education in bedroom activities," I added, my voice dropping to a rougher register. "Because I'm a demanding man. I intend to explore and mark every single inch of this body."
A long sigh escaped my lips.
Five times.
Five times more I'd forced my way into that tight, overworked cunt, each round rougher than the last.
I had started slow, pushed her into missionary after giving in. After that sweet little confession. I let her feel every inch stretch her open, let her cling and whimper while that neglected cunt relearned who it answered to.
Then I flipped her and took her from behind, one hand wrapped in her hair, the other flattening her face into the futon while her hips trembled under the weight of it. She made those breathless little sounds again—half shock, half shame.
Sideways came next, lazy and deep, while she barely kept her eyes open. Her body jerked with every slow push, too used and too weak to do anything but take it.
Then back to missionary—because I wanted to watch her when she gave up her last ounce of pride. Watch her moan around the shame.
And finally, made her straddle me. Or tried to. Her legs were too weak. I let her think she was riding me, but she collapsed before her third grind. I just gripped her ass and used her like a toy until she gave out again. Limp against my chest, drooling, twitching like a woman who'd finally been fucked stupid.
Tearing away every scrap of dignity she'd clung to as a mother, a widow, a woman of property.
I held back more than I wanted to. She wasn't a kunoichi—her body hadn't been molded for pain or pressure. And she was older, worn down by work and worry, not by war. I couldn't be as brutal as I'd normally be. No choking, no slaps, no chakra-fed pulses meant to rattle bones.
Just thick, honest fucking. But I didn't hate it. Not even close. There was something addictive about the way her body yielded—soft and reluctant, starved of touch, grateful even when it broke. Fucking her wasn't a conquest. It was indulgence.
Five times more, I'd forced my way into that tight, overworked cunt, each round rougher than the last.
Each round, I'd emptied myself completely into her womb, pumping load after thick load until it was full and leaking down her thighs.
Layer by layer, I etched myself into her forgotten core, irrevocably marking her mine.
I would be mighty impressed if she didn't end up pregnant.
Even tamed down, I'd fucked her through positions her body clearly wasn't accustomed to, stretched her in ways that left her limp as laundry wrung dry, nerves fried, pussy swollen and still fluttering even after she passed out.
Like the dutiful woman she was, she obediently took all the lust I poured into her till she could no more.
By the end, she'd been a boneless mess of satisfaction and exhaustion, barely coherent as I'd whispered promises of our future against her sweat-dampened skin.
And yet…. and yet my stupid dick was rearing for another round.
Yeah, there was definitely something wrong with me. Normal men didn't maintain this level of arousal after that kind of marathon session.
It was all Kushina's fault. What I would give for another rematch with her.
I sighed once more.
I pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Tsunami's head, breathing in the scent of her hair—sex and sweat and sea salt. "Sleep tight, mama bear," I murmured, then carefully slipped out from under her unconscious form.
She didn't even stir.
"Mama bear?" I snorted.
The moonlight filtering through the small window revealed my clothes scattered across the floor like a breadcrumb trail of abandoned restraint. My jounin vest hung from a chair, pants crumpled near the futon, shirt somewhere by the door where I'd finally given up any pretense of maintaining restraint and just focused on getting naked as efficiently as possible.
I should have gotten back to the inn hours ago.
Staying out all night without checking in was the kind of protocol breach that could get a team leader written up—or worse, if something had gone wrong while I was indisposed. My responsibilities didn't pause just because I'd found an incredible woman to claim.
From my discarded utility belt, I retrieved a small sealing scroll and, from the pockets, Kushina's green panties. The silk was still soft, but any trace of her scent had long since faded, replaced by the salt tang of ocean air.
I held them to my nose anyway and sighed. Salt water and regret.
From the sealing scroll, I produced my spare outfit in a puff of displaced air. Clean jounin gear, pressed and professional—the uniform of a man who absolutely hadn't just spent six hours fucking a widow into unconsciousness. I sealed the stained clothes back into storage and pocketed Kushina's panties.
Then, silently, I turned to Tsunami.
Her dark hair fanned across the pillow, lips still slightly swollen from my kisses, skin bearing the faint marks of my hands and mouth. Beautiful in that particular way of a woman who'd been completely and utterly claimed.
But she'd catch cold sleeping exposed like that.
I found a thin quilt folded in the corner and draped it carefully over her sleeping form. She stirred slightly at the gentle touch, making a soft noise.
"I'll see you soon," I whispered, leaning down to brush one final kiss across her forehead. "Very soon."
I made sure to lock the door from the inside before slipping through the window with practiced stealth. The window frame was narrow, but I'd gotten out of tighter spots. Old habits from my academy days, when sneaking out had been an art form.
The tree branch I landed on swayed. Wave Country's trees weren't the massive monsters we trained on back in Konoha. These were coastal pines, built for enduring storms rather than supporting chakra-enhanced shinobi doing impossible acrobatics.
I stretched, working out the pleasant aches of a night well spent, and took one last look at Tsunami's house.
After checking on the team, I should pay a visit to the merchant. Night visit would have more impact on the….. negotiations. I didn't know yet how to proceed without messing with the mission, but I will figure it out eventually.
The branch creaked ominously as I gathered chakra for the shunshin. Time to face up Naruto and whatever chaos or shenanigans he will pull off.
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