After a while, Minato brought Tsunade and the other two back to the wooden house. The structure stood as a silent testament to his utility, its solid timber walls providing a sanctuary from the relentless drizzle that defined the Land of Rain.
"Where are Senior Shirakumo and the others?"
Seeing that Shirakumo Kazeta's team was not there, Minato asked. His voice was calm, but his mind immediately cataloged the absence as a shift in the local defensive perimeter.
"The Seniors went back to the Outpost first."
Mikoto said, getting up to pull over a lounge chair. She moved with the fluid grace of a trained kunoichi, her eyes flickering toward Minato for a brief second before focusing on her task. "Teacher, please have a seat."
"Wood Release really is convenient; it's much more comfortable here than in those smelly tents."
Orochimaru leaned lazily against the lounge chair and said indifferently. His pale skin seemed almost translucent in the dim light, and his yellow eyes scanned the room with a predatory curiosity that never truly faded, even in repose.
Jiraiya glanced at the spots by the stove: from left to right were Nawaki, an empty space, Mikoto, and Orochimaru. Needless to say, that empty space was definitely Minato's spot. It was the center of the social gravity in the room.
Seeing this, he glanced at Tsunade, a suggestive smile suddenly appearing on his face. "Then Tsunade, we—"
"Who's 'we' with you?"
Tsunade gave a light snort and patted Minato's shoulder. Her rejection was sharp and practiced, leaving no room for Jiraiya's antics. "Make a tatami mat!"
Hearing this, Minato clapped his hands together. The ground trembled as wooden floors grew from the dirt, followed by layers of woven straw mats, leaving only the area around the stove clear. It was a display of fine control, using $150$ units of Chakra to precisely manipulate the organic fibers into a comfortable weave.
However, the area around the stove also turned into stone brick, rising ten-odd centimeters out of thin air. The heat from the fire began to radiate more effectively across the new flooring.
Tsunade kicked off her shoes, stepped onto the tatami, and pointed to a spot. "Minato, Mikoto, and I will sleep over here."
As she spoke, she pointed to the other side of the stove. "Jiraiya, you, Orochimaru, and Nawaki sleep over there!"
Jiraiya's mouth hung open, his gaze toward Minato a mix of shock and envy. "Why does Minato get to sleep on the same side as you?"
"Nonsense, how old is Minato? How old are you?"
Tsunade rolled her eyes. To her, the division was logical, though the heat in her cheeks suggested otherwise. "The house is only this big. Or would you rather sleep outside in the mud?"
"Hehehe, I have no objection~" Orochimaru said indifferently. He seemed amused by the petty squabbling, finding the social dynamics a boring but necessary distraction.
Jiraiya's face fell. He glanced at Minato. "Dammit, it's really enviable."
"Alright, go to sleep early."
Orochimaru said indifferently, "I have to take them on a mission tomorrow morning."
"A mission?"
Hearing about a mission, Nawaki's ears perked up, his face full of pleasant surprise. His youthful energy was a stark contrast to the weary atmosphere of the camp. "Them? Who? Us?"
Orochimaru nodded, his tone carrying a hint of indulgence. "Yes. Sandaime hopes to negotiate with Hanzou and has put me in charge of this mission. I've chosen your team to accompany me. We might encounter enemies from the Hidden Sand Village on the way, so you need to rest well tonight."
"Ha! Awesome!"
Nawaki cheered, "Finally, a real mission!"
Military Merits! My Military Merits! The boy's thoughts were transparent, his ambition burning as brightly as the fire in the stove. He didn't see the shadows of death that trailed such high-stakes diplomacy.
"Be extra careful during tomorrow's mission."
Tsunade laid out the bedding and warned Minato, handing him several Antidotes. "These are Antidotes for the Salamander. That guy Hanzou is an expert in using poison and often spreads it silently into the air. We must be on guard."
Minato smiled as he accepted the Antidotes. He felt the cold weight of the vials, a reminder of the lethality they were about to face. "Yeah, thanks, Teacher. Actually, I prepared several Gas Masks before leaving the Village."
"Better safe than sorry. Good."
Tsunade nodded, then proceeded to help Minato lay out his bedding as well. Her movements were domestic and rhythmic, a brief pause in the life of a warrior.
Ninjas provide their own bedding for missions, usually choosing thin blankets made of waterproof and cold-resistant materials. When going to colder regions, they use sleeping bags filled with cotton or down.
Although it rained continuously in the Land of Rain, the temperature wasn't that low, so the three of them used small thin blankets. Two blankets would wrap around a pillow, and they were usually stored in Storage Scrolls using the Object Sealing Seal. When needed, they could just be taken out and shaken open, which was very convenient for a life on the move.
After a quick bite to eat, everyone laid out their quilts and went to sleep. The fire died down to a soft glow, casting long shadows across the wooden walls.
This was Minato's first time sleeping next to Tsunade, and for a moment, he couldn't fall asleep. His internal monologue was a sharp contrast to his peaceful exterior. He lay there, listening to the synchronized breathing of the others, his mind calculating potential threats even in his rest.
Although they were very close, because they were on the battlefield, everyone slept fully clothed, so no clichéd steamy scenes occurred. The reality of war demanded readiness; a blade could be at one's throat in seconds.
However, Minato had experienced puberty once before, after all. With two beauties sleeping beside him, his mind couldn't help but wander. He was a predator in a golden mask, and his desires were as sharp as his kunai.
Failing to fall asleep, Minato opened his eyes only to find a pair of amber eyes watching him in the darkness.
Seeing Minato suddenly open his eyes, Tsunade was startled and quickly shut her eyes tight. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm she hoped he couldn't hear.
After a few seconds, she tentatively opened her eyes, only to see Minato looking at her with a beaming smile and a hint of teasing in his eyes. He looked so innocent, yet his gaze held a depth that made her breath catch.
Tsunade's face flushed. She gave Minato a mock-angry glare, then pursed her lips and smiled.
Watching that sweet smile, Minato suddenly extended his fist, signaling Tsunade with his eyes to fist-bump him. It was a simple gesture, common among shinobi, but in the silence of the night, it carried a different weight.
Tsunade extended her fist in confusion. As their fists met, a Chakra Link was established in an instant. The synchronization rate spiked to $98\%$ as their spiritual energies melded.
Eye contact is a spiritual kiss.
A thought was transmitted through the Chakra, and Tsunade's face immediately turned red. The directness of the mental link left no room for the usual barriers of social etiquette.
Can Chakra be used like this? How improper!
Spitting mentally, Tsunade felt as if she had discovered a new world and tried to transmit her own thoughts to Minato.
No teasing your teacher!
"Then why hasn't Teacher disconnected the Chakra Link?"
"I just wanted to see what you were going to do!"
"And now?"
Chakra can connect the inner worlds of people. Without the need for words, one can convey their thoughts and feelings to another. Some feelings that are difficult to express in reality can also be transmitted through Chakra.
Minato gazed into those slightly evasive amber eyes, his own filled with amusement: "Just like I can feel Teacher's care, affection, and... a certain feeling that mirrors mine for you. What is it, Teacher?"
Tsunade's face was fiery red. How could she not feel that blunt and burning emotion? It was like standing too close to a sun.
It's love, isn't it?
Another thought came through, completely shattering Tsunade's inner defenses.
She—was being teased by her Disciple.
And with other people right next to them.
A sudden, indescribable sense of excitement rose in Tsunade's heart, but this emotion was instantly captured by Minato through the Chakra transmission. He could feel her pulse, her heat, and her hesitation.
Is Teacher thinking about naughty things?
Enough, stop talking—
Tsunade's thoughts carried a hint of pleading.
"Then Teacher, beg me~"
Not a chance, brat!
Seeing Minato's increasingly playful gaze, Tsunade bit her lip lightly, her legs unconsciously intertwining under the quilt. The sensation of the link was addictive, a secret shared in a room full of people.
Teacher is thinking about naughty things again.
Stop—stop it, I beg you—
Teacher, there's no need to be so nervous. This is a transmission of spiritual intent, a way to communicate by opening one's heart and being honest. The fact that Teacher hasn't broken the connection—doesn't that mean you're looking forward to something? In this regard, we're both the same.
Minato's gaze was deep, his thoughts like a demon's whisper, reaching straight into the depths of Tsunade's heart. He was dismantling her piece by piece, all while maintaining the facade of a sleeping boy.
Their fists, which had been pressed against each other, had somehow joined together at some point.
I want to hear Teacher's most honest inner thoughts. Whether it's emotion or desire, taboo or unsightly, I will accept it all unconditionally. I unconditionally... love Teacher!
Gazing into those azure eyes, the string called reason in Tsunade's mind snapped completely!
Countless stray thoughts grew like wild grass, surging toward Minato like a tide through the Chakra Link—
Who knows how much time passed, but Tsunade finally fell into a deep sleep, a faint smile on her face that carried a hint of charm. The exhaustion of the battlefield had finally been replaced by a strange, blissful peace.
Gazing at Tsunade's exquisite, artwork-like sleeping face, Minato smiled triumphantly, like a victorious general who had just conquered an impregnable fortress.
Soon, however, that smile quickly faded.
Compared to this kind of text-based intimacy, he wished he could grow up faster and win big on other battlefields—
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