When Saiki pushed open the door to the Hokage's office, the final rays of the setting sun were streaming through the blinds.
Gold and crimson bands of light sliced across the polished floorboards.
Tsunade stood by the window with her back to the door, her green haori fluttering slightly as she turned around.
When she saw the familiar silhouette at the entrance, her amber eyes ignited like ignited stars.
"You're back," she whispered, her voice vibrating with suppressed excitement.
Saiki closed the door and nodded. "Mm."
Only the two of them were in the office—at least, on the surface.
However, Saiki could sense at least four Anbu lurking in the shadows, guarding the Hokage like statues.
Tsunade clearly knew this as well.
She walked to her desk and casually pressed a hidden button underneath.
Hummm—
A layer of invisible chakra rose from the four corners of the room, sealing the office within a barrier.
This was a top-tier barrier designed to block sound, light, and all sensory traces, usually reserved for discussing S-rank secrets.
Once deployed, the outside world could see or hear nothing of the interior.
The Anbu members tactfully withdrew—they knew that when Lady Tsunade activated this seal, it meant private time had begun.
Now, they were truly alone.
Tsunade turned around and looked at Saiki.
The metamorphosis following his two-year slumber had made the former boy grow half a head taller than her.
His features were sharper, his gaze deeper, and his entire being radiated a transcendent aura.
But when he looked at her, the familiar tenderness and possessiveness told her he was still her man.
"I heard about the front lines," Tsunade said, stepping forward to cup his cheek. "The Cloud, the Mist... you did a spectacular job."
Her fingertips were cool against his warm skin, carrying the weight of a long-awaited reunion.
Saiki took her hand and looked down at her.
Her mature, feminine charm was as captivating as ever.
Her golden hair was still in twin-tails, but stray locks fell over her brow, adding a touch of lazy beauty.
Beneath the haori, her curves were still magnificent—the most impressive peaks in the Shinobi world were as firm and upright as ever.
"I handled everything," Saiki said.
Tsunade smiled, a look of profound relief crossing her face. "Mm, I know."
She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a light kiss to his lips.
It started as a simple, celebratory peck.
But Saiki's arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him and deepening the kiss.
It was no longer a gentle touch; it was an aggressive, possessive invasion.
His tongue pried her teeth apart, exploring her depths and drinking in her sweet nectar.
Tsunade's body stiffened for a microsecond before going soft in his arms.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers sliding into his long hair as she responded with a raw, unpracticed hunger.
The kiss lasted until they were both breathless and Tsunade could feel the hard change in Saiki's body.
"Wait... wait..." she gasped during a break. "This is the office..."
Saiki moved his lips to her neck, his hot breath ghosting over her sensitive skin. "The barrier is up."
"But... it's still daytime..."
"No one will know."
His hands were already unfastening her haori, sliding into the fabric to stroke her smooth back.
Her body, honed by years of training, was tight and elastic, her skin feeling like fine silk.
Tsunade's breathing grew frantic.
Logic told her to refuse—this was the Hokage's office, the sacred seat of power for the village.
She was the Acting Hokage, a Princess of the Senju, the example for everyone to follow.
But her heart and her flesh betrayed her logic.
For two years, she had carried the village alone, whispering to empty rooms and living in terror of war reports.
Now, Saiki was back.
He brought the glory of victory, the strength of a protector, and the warmth she had craved for so long.
Furthermore, the last time he left for the front, their intimacy had been stunted by her reservations.
And later, he had gone to Nono'u...
The memory filled her with a mix of resentment and guilt.
She was his woman, yet because of her rank and her pride, she hadn't given him her full self.
Now, he was here, and he wanted her.
And she... she wanted him desperately.
"Saiki..." Tsunade's voice trembled with a mix of anxiety and anticipation.
"Mm?" Saiki looked up into her glazed eyes.
"Be gentle..." she whispered, closing her eyes. "Don't break the desk... there are still documents to sign..."
The words weren't a refusal; they were a command of consent.
Saiki smirked, a dangerous and excited glint in his eyes.
He had only intended to tease her, but the fact that she agreed to do it in the Hokage's office set his blood on fire.
"As you command, Lord Hokage."
He yanked the sash of her waist. Tsunade's clothes were designed for easy removal.
With a single pull, her top and the under-mesh were discarded, revealing the most heroic and gargantuan white breasts in the world.
Saiki grabbed her narrow waist and hoisted her onto the massive mahogany desk.
He buried his face between those massive, creamy mounds, feasting on them greedily.
Two years of emotional buildup and the jealousy from the last time exploded out of her.
Tsunade felt a flash of regret for the "sacrilege" of the act, but looking at Saiki's ecstatic face, she couldn't call a halt.
The stimulation of the forbidden location was overwhelming.
Saiki's mouth and tongue were everywhere on her soft, heavy flesh, making her feel as though she were already overflowing.
She clamped her thighs together, clutching Saiki's head and biting her lip to keep from screaming.
Mei Terumi had been youthful, but Tsunade's fully-ripened abundance was the only thing that could satisfy Saiki's hunger.
After devouring her cherries, Saiki pulled back to look at her—her face was a mask of scarlet lust and misty eyes.
He captured her mouth again, their tongues clashing in a wet dance.
Saiki kneaded her massive white rabbits while Tsunade wrapped her legs around his waist, her hands roaming over his back.
They broke the kiss with a thin silver thread of saliva, staring at each other with burning desire.
Saiki pulled her off the desk and made her stand.
He reached for her trousers and yanked them down to her ankles; Tsunade cooperated by stepping out of them.
Staring at her pale, juicy mounds, Saiki's breathing turned into a heavy rasp. He buried his face against her stomach, clutching her thighs.
"Ahn!" A muffled cry escaped Tsunade's throat. She grabbed his hair, trying to endure the sensation.
She couldn't help herself; she spread her legs wider to give him better access.
Saiki was relentless, giving her a level of pleasure she hadn't felt in years.
When Saiki stood back up, Tsunade didn't care about the wetness; she kissed him again with a frantic need.
He lifted her back onto the desk and began to disarm himself.
Feeling him free of his constraints, and seeing him "struggle" to find the entrance, Tsunade reached down and guided him home.
"Sister, are you that impatient?" Saiki teased, licking his lips.
Tsunade's face was a sunset of red. She was mortified by her own eagerness.
"I thought you were lost, you brat!" she snapped, her voice breaking.
Saiki stopped teasing and drove forward. The impact made Tsunade shiver to her core.
Her hand, which had been raised to punch him, went limp and braced against the desk.
As Saiki began to pump with power, Tsunade finally lost her battle with silence.
She lunged forward to wrap her arms around his neck, kissing him to stifle her own screams while her fleshy thighs locked around his waist.
Tsunade was never this proactive. Her hunger made Saiki even more aggressive.
The desk began to creak and vibrate under the force of the collision.
Tsunade arched her neck back, her voice finally erupting in a high-pitched wail of ecstasy.
They forgot where they were, lost in the raw release of two years of longing.
For a while, he had her face down on the desk, her huge breasts flattened into broad cakes as he plowed her from behind.
Then, they moved to the sofa, where Tsunade knelt with her fingernails digging into the upholstery while Saiki relieved her stress with every stroke.
Finally, they returned to the Hokage's chair. Saiki sat, and Tsunade straddled him.
She used her "milk-wash" (paizuri) technique to clean his face while simultaneously performing deep squats on him.
She claimed she had sat in the office too long and her legs were getting thick; she needed the exercise.
But eventually, her stamina failed. She collapsed onto him, her body shuddering in a terminal climax.
When the storm settled, the city lights were already flickering outside.
The barrier remained, keeping the sounds of their passion locked within.
The air in the office was thick with the scent of sex and the lingering heat of love.
Tsunade leaned against Saiki, her haori draped loosely over her shoulders, exposing her skin covered in bites and red marks.
She rested her head on his chest, listening to his heart, her face wearing a lazy, post-coital glow.
Saiki was sitting in the Hokage's chair—the symbol of supreme power in the Leaf—and using it as a bed.
One hand was around Tsunade's waist; the other was casually flipping through unread documents on the desk.
"The front lines," Tsunade whispered, her voice still raspy. "What actually happened? the reports were too brief."
Saiki closed the document and began to narrate.
From the one-shot execution of the Raikage to the slaughter of the Seven Swordsmen and the Mizukage.
He spoke flatly, as if telling someone else's story.
But Tsunade felt her heart skip beats as she listened.
Even though she was prepared, the details were staggering. She felt a twinge of... pity for the enemies.
"You killed so many..." she murmured.
"Mm." Saiki didn't deny it. "That is war. If I didn't kill them, they would have killed the people of the Leaf."
Tsunade was silent. She knew he was right.
As Hokage, she signed death warrants daily. She knew victory was built on a sea of blood.
But hearing him speak of the massacre so casually made her heart ache for him.
He had changed. He was stronger, colder—and she knew he did it all for her.
"Saiki," she looked up at him. "Will you one day become totally indifferent to life?"
Saiki saw the worry in her eyes and kissed her forehead.
"No. I have all of you. That's enough to keep me human."
Tsunade leaned back into him, her finger tracing circles on his chest. "So... the Mist is truly finished?"
"The core is gone. The rest are just trash-mobs," Saiki said, stroking her massive breasts. "They won't be a threat for a long time."
He paused. "I let Mei Terumi go, though."
Tsunade blinked. "Mei Terumi? That genius girl?"
"Mm. She has two Bloodline Limits. She might become the Fifth Mizukage. Killing her was a waste; keeping her alive is better for regional stability. And besides..."
"Besides what?"
"She's very beautiful," Saiki said honestly.
Tsunade gave him a sharp poke in the ribs. "I knew it, you lecherous brat!"
But she wasn't truly angry.
She understood the political logic—leaving a competent, respected leader was better for Konoha's long-term interests than total anarchy in the Mist.
As for Saiki liking pretty girls... she was used to it. He never hid his desires, but he never let them cloud his judgment.
"However," Tsunade remembered something. "I heard she's incredibly proud. Will she actually follow your lead?"
"She has no choice," Saiki said. "Obey or die."
Tsunade caught the hidden meaning—there was more than just "persuasion" between them.
But she didn't ask. Everyone had secrets. As long as Saiki's heart remained with her and the Leaf, she would turn a blind eye.
She had no idea that they had already "crossed the line" multiple times.
Saiki wasn't an idiot; no man confesses his affairs while sitting in his main woman's lap.
They rested together until Saiki's body began to stir again.
"No..." Tsunade pressed his hand down. "I really can't... I have documents..."
Saiki chuckled at her panic. "Are you coming home to my bed tonight?"
Tsunade's face turned red. She looked at the work, then at his eyes. "Fine... once I finish the urgent ones."
"Good."
Saiki dressed, and Tsunade wrapped herself in her robes. When she tried to stand, her legs buckled.
Saiki caught her with a smirk. "Does the Lord Hokage need a hand?"
"Shut up!" she snapped, her ears scarlet.
She looked at the office—documents scattered, chairs overturned, the desk and sofa soaked with wet stains, the carpet a mess.
"This is your fault!" she grumbled. "If anyone finds out..."
"No one knows." Saiki wove a sign. A gentle wind cleared the scent of sex.
He used Sage energy to smooth the carpet, clean the stains, and reorganize the furniture.
In seconds, the office was pristine again—on the surface.
Tsunade let out a breath, fixed her hair, and reclaimed her majestic pose. But the glow in her eyes was unmistakable.
Saiki kissed her one last time. "I'll wait for you tonight."
He dispelled the barrier and left.
Tsunade watched the door close and let out a helpless laugh. "That little bastard..."
She sat back at her desk. The soreness in her body and the feeling of his seed slowly leaking out of her were constant reminders of what had just happened.
She smiled. He was back. The war was over.
And he was hers.
The office "nonsense" was simply a well-deserved reward for a hero.