I hate waiting. I wasn't particularly an impatient man, but I fucking hate waiting. Waiting was killing me. Not knowing was killing me. My guts twisted and my palms were getting sweaty.
The chair creaked under me as I shifted, fingers drumming against my thigh. The Hokage's waiting room was too clean and too quiet. If I listen closely, I swear I can hear my pulse hammering in my ears.
Why send an Anbu first thing in the morning just to make me sit here? Why not get it over with? A test? Psychological warfare? Or maybe just bureaucratic bullshit.
I should've bolted the second I pulled my dick out of Kushina. Packed my shit, burned my trail, and disappeared into the wild before anyone knew. I still could. My eyes flick to the windows. All my important shit was sealed anyway in scrolls. Just jutsu notes, formulas research scrolls, and weapons.
Do I grab Anko on the way out? No. Stupid thought. She'd never abandon the village, not for me. And even if she was inclined, dragging her into this would make me worse than scum. A missing-nin's life wasn't some fucking romance. It was running, starving, looking over your shoulder until someone finally put a blade in your back.
No. This was my mess. My mistake. My actions. My consequences.
My foot started tapping against the floor. A shinobi wasn't supposed to show nerves. Right now, I couldn't care less.
If it came to violence, I could handle most Anbu. Not bragging. Just fact. I'd an early start and trained harder, fought dirtier, and unlike them, I wasn't bound by protocol. Most weren't on my level.
Most.
That word left one exception.
Itachi Uchiha.
In this world, he never slaughtered his clan. Still Anbu. Still a prodigy. Still, the kind of monster who could turn into a nuisance.
But what were the odds he'd be nearby?
I forced my foot to still. My thoughts were spiraling.
I had trusted my knowledge of these people from the show.
This wasn't a show. These weren't characters.
Stupid. So fucking stupid. But it was what I decided. And if there was death at the end of the tunnel? So be it.
A whisper in the back of my mind slithered forward, mocking and smug. Was it worth it?
My hand dipped into my pocket. My fingers brushed against delicate fabric — soft. Her panties. My trophy. My mistake.
Unwisely, I pulled the green underwear out. I brought it to my nose and inhaled.
Rich. Musky. Kushina.
Not just the lingering scent of her sweat, but her. That deep, intoxicating musk, sweetened by her arousal. A sharp note of salt. Faint traces of whatever soap she used, overpowered by something darker, more primal. The scent of a woman who lived, fought, laughed — fucked —with intensity.
My cock twitched, half-forgetting the noose tightening around my neck.
Maybe it was worth it. It certainly was calming.
It also made me feel like an utter creep.
Perv Number Two seems a fitting nickname, now that I think about it.
The door opened. A secretary—some middle-aged guy with bored eyes — nodded. "The Hokage will see you now."
For half a second, I almost sneered. I was the one waiting first. But I swallowed it down and forced a polite smile instead. "Thank you," I said, standing smoothly like my guts weren't a clenched fist of dread. No need to show my nerves.
I followed the secretary down the curved hallway, each step echoing in the unnervingly quiet building. The man stopped in front of the Hokage's office, gave me a short nod, and left without another word.
I straightened my flak jacket, smoothed non-existent wrinkles. Then… one last fuck-it moment. I pressed Kushina's panties to my nose and inhaled deeply. That honey-and-spice musk coiled into my lungs. Fuck me. I stuffed them back in and knocked twice.
The Hokage's voice came through, light and easy. "Enter."
I pushed open the door and stepped in.
Minato Namikaze sat behind his desk, bathed in the warm light streaming through the large windows behind him. His golden hair glowed, his blue eyes bright as he smiled.
I bowed, just deep enough to be respectful. "Hokage-sama."
"Ah, come on, Eishin-kun, no need to be so stiff," Minato laughed, leaning back in his chair. "How've you been?"
I almost frowned. Not because the question was strange — it wasn't — but because I did not know Minato played these games.
"I'm doing fine," I answered, keeping my tone neutral.
Silence stretched. Not awkward on his end — Minato as Hokage, had mastered the art of the pause, letting the air thicken until you cracked. My muscles coiled tighter, breath shallow. Any second now.
Then—
"And how are things at the Academy?" Minato leaned back, fingers tapping lightly against his desk.
I blinked. That's it? No, I can't read him.
"It's fine," I said, finding myself repeating my words, so I added. "Teaching the new generation is interesting."
Not a lie.
In fact, I liked it. Teaching forced me to reevaluate my own skills, to break things down in a way I normally wouldn't. Explaining jutsu theory forced me to refine my own understanding. And watching kids struggle, then suddenly get it? It was rewarding. Often even delightful.
The Fourth's smile shifted — softer now, almost sympathetic. Like he was about to deliver bad news.
Here it comes.
"The reason I called you here," he said, his tone still gentle, "is related to that."
I didn't move, didn't speak. Just listened.
"Teaching the nest generation is admirable," he continued. "Not every shinobi has the patience or skill to guide the future of Konoha." He tilted his head, eyes crinkling with something close to genuine warmth. "You've done well, Eishin-kun. Your students are fortunate to have you."
Flattery?
Minato exhaled softly. "That said… I can't help but feel your skills could serve the village in a different way as well."
There it was.
He leaned forward slightly, fingers lacing together on the desk. "You are a talented shinobi, Eishin-kun. One of the best in your field. And right now, Konoha is in need of experienced hands." His tone remained calm, even thoughtful. "I wanted to ask if you'd reconsider taking on missions outside the village again."
I opened my mouth, but Minato lifted a hand, smoothly cutting me off before I could answer.
"This is only a suggestion," he assured me. "There is no pressure. I understand if you prefer to stay with the Academy. Training the next generation is invaluable, and I respect the work you've been doing."
It all sounded so reasonable. So gentle.
But Minato wasn't just a kind man. He was a leader. And leaders didn't make suggestions they didn't want considered.
Does he want me outside of the village? No, that was merely my paranoia speaking.
I forced a nod. "I'll… think about it."
"Good. That's all I ask."
The dismissal was clear.
I turned to leave, spine crawling with the weight of his gaze.
The door clicked shut.
I didn't exhale. Not yet. Not until I was three corridors away, out of sensor range, out of his orbit. My steps were measured, calm, unhurried. A man with nothing to hide.
My mind raced, dissecting every word, every pause. Minato's request made sense. Konoha did lack shinobi. The mission load was too high, and the village had been stretched thin for years. Raising the Academy's graduation age had only compounded the issue — though that mostly affected the lower ranks.
But something else was clear. I let out a breath, shoulders loosening.
He doesn't know.
If he had known, things would've gone very differently in that room. There were a lot of implications to unpack, but one thing was certain — Minato wasn't the kind of man to sit across from someone who had fucked his wife and smile at them like that. He didn't play those games. If he wanted me dead, he'd look me in the eye while he did it.
If he had known…
I wouldn't be walking out of this office unscathed.
I made my way to the park, letting my legs carry me on instinct. The tension in my chest hadn't fully settled, so I took a seat on a bench, forcing myself to breathe, to think.
The park was quiet — too early for kids, too late for drunks. Just the rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the village waking up.
I dragged a hand down my face, trying to steady my breathing.
The raised graduation age made sense. I understood the reasoning behind it. Konoha wanted to move away from the days of sending children to die on the battlefield. Minato wanted to ban child soldiers entirely.
I got it. It was the right thing according to my previous life sensibilities. Sending twelve-year-olds to die was fucked up.
Didn't mean it hadn't made my early years in this world a goddamn pain in the ass.
Being a man in a child's body, knowing war was on the horizon, and dealing with the uncanny reality of an altered world — it had been difficult. Not hard in the way a normal kid would struggle, but frustrating. Maddening, even.
I had tried to push for early graduation, convinced I could outdo Itachi's record. I wanted to beat that record. But no matter how mature I was, no matter how hard I worked, the system wasn't built for that anymore.
In the end, I graduated at ten.
Still earlier than most. Not early enough.
And things only got more annoying from there. The Yellow Flash was everyone's shining example, and because of his stance on child soldiers, my missions were a joke. Find the cat. Clean the cat. Swear at the fucking cat. The last one, admittedly, was self-appointed.
If it hadn't been for Anko, I might still be stuck chasing that damn cat. Barely a chunin.
A smirk tugged at my lips when my thoughts drifted back to Anko.
I'd promised to knock her up, hadn't I?
At least five.
Five kids. That was a hell of a commitment. Taking care of even one child wasn't easy, and if I was serious about that, I needed to get my shit together. Providing was the bare minimum.
Teaching at the Academy wasn't much of a mission. Four days a week, I drilled the younger students on the basics. The pay was mediocre — especially for a Jonin. Nowhere near what I could make running missions outside the village.
But it was safe. Predictable. It gave me the time I needed to work on my own projects, refine my jutsu, train at my own pace.
If I was going to have kids, though… it wasn't enough.
Taking high-risk missions wasn't much of an option. But it could get things rolling, start planning from there.
I exhaled, pushing off the bench. No point sitting here thinking myself in circles. I'd already wasted enough brainpower overthinking in that damn waiting room.
I made my way back to the Hokage Tower, not bothering to request another meeting. When I found the secretary, I gave him my answer. The man nodded, making a note. That was that. I was a Jonin. I didn't choose missions. They were chosen for me.
— — — — — — — —
A/N: Alright, so quick vent time... when I first started this fic, I thought I could keep it all balanced — plot and smut — 50/50. But here we are in Chapter 13, and it's basically just smut, first Kushina, then Anko..... I can't help it; Naruto has some of the best waifus.
I know I haven't really dropped much of the plot so far, and at this point, I'm just rolling with it. I'm working on bringing some story in — if that's your thing. No pressure if you're just here for the smut, I get it! But for those curious, the plot will show up... eventually. Hopefully.
Anyway, just needed to vent. Thanks for sticking around, smut or plot, you're all awesome!
Also. Guys! Power stones..... motivation is low.