You're Dressed Like That to Answer the Door?

When the knock sounded, Kitahara Kaede had just finished his shower.

His hair was still dripping. He casually draped a towel over his head and wore a dark gray bathrobe loosely tied around his waist.

Who could be here at this hour?

Without thinking much of it, he turned the doorknob.

Tsunade stood outside.

She carried a cloth bag. Her hair hung loose, not tied in a ponytail.

She wore a light gray, wide-necked T-shirt and a pair of shorts that showed off her long legs.

She had wooden house sandals on, as if she'd come straight from home.

They looked at each other for a second.

Tsunade's gaze slid down from his face—

His hair was wet, the towel draped carelessly over it.

Droplets ran down his neck, traced his collarbone, and disappeared into the open collar of his bathrobe.

The robe covered only his lower half.

His entire upper body was bare—broad shoulders tapering down to a lean waist, firm abs shifting slightly with each breath. His obliques slanted down from his sides and vanished beneath the edge of the robe.

Tsunade's breath caught.

She instinctively raised a hand and covered her eyes.

But she left a huge gap between her fingers.

Her peripheral vision was still peeking over there.

You couldn't tell at all when he wore his shinobi uniform...

When had this guy... grown into someone like this?

Tsunade swallowed.

Kitahara Kaede's voice came, tinged with amusement.

"If you want to look, just look. You've left such a big gap between your fingers. Do you think I'm blind?"

Tsunade's face turned bright red.

She dropped her hand and glared at him.

"You—why are you answering the door dressed like that?!"

"I just got out of the shower. What else would I wear?"

Tsunade sniffed. He really did smell like he'd just showered.

Soap mixed with the warmth of the steam, and something else she couldn't quite name.

Kitahara Kaede leaned against the wall, his tone far too casual.

"It's this late. Who else would come looking for me besides you?"

With that, he turned and walked inside.

"Come in. I'll go change."

Tsunade stood in the doorway and bit her lip.

What did he mean, "besides you"?

If he knew she was the only one who'd come, why answer the door dressed like that?

Was he doing it on purpose?

She kicked off her sandals and stepped over the threshold, walking barefoot across the wooden floor of the entryway.

From the inner room came the sound of him rummaging for clothes. Through the bamboo curtain, his figure was only a hazy outline; she couldn't make anything out clearly.

Tsunade pursed her lips, her gaze lingering on the curtain for a moment.

—If only she'd looked a little longer earlier.

The thought had barely surfaced when the back of her head prickled. She wanted to slap herself.

Get a grip.

Kitahara Kaede emerged from behind the curtain.

A black T-shirt and trousers. His hair was still half wet. He rubbed it with the towel a couple of times, then tossed it aside.

Tsunade glanced at him.

He'd put clothes on.

Good thing, too. He looked good dressed as well.

—She scolded herself for the third time and set the cloth bag on the table.

Two bottles of sake landed with a heavy and a light thud.

Kitahara Kaede looked at the bag, then at her.

"Are you in a bad mood?"

Tsunade ignored him.

She sat cross-legged, pulled the stopper from one bottle, filled the cup in front of him, and pushed it over.

Kitahara Kaede picked it up and drank.

Only then did Tsunade pour herself a cup and throw it back.

The liquor burned, catching in her throat.

She set down the cup and slowly turned it by the rim with her fingers.

"I can't sleep."

Her voice gave nothing away.

"Have a nightmare?"

"I dreamed about Nawaki." Tsunade's fingertips paused on the rim of her cup. "All I could hear were explosions. I ran until I was out of breath, but I could never reach him."

She refilled her cup.

"Once I woke up, I couldn't fall asleep again. It's been like this for several nights."

Kitahara Kaede watched her profile.

Candlelight cast a thin, warm glow over her cheekbones, but it couldn't hide the dark circles beneath her eyes.

She really hadn't slept well for days.

"It was only a C-rank mission." Tsunade gulped down some liquor, hissed, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I don't even know what I'm afraid of."

"Your instincts have always been more reliable than the intelligence."

Tsunade looked up at him.

Kitahara Kaede set down his cup.

"I requested to join Nawaki's mission as the supervising Jonin."

Tsunade froze with her cup in hand.

"...What did you say?"

"I submitted the request this afternoon. Hiruzen-sensei approved it."

Tsunade stared at him for several seconds.

Then she slowly lowered her head.

Her shoulders relaxed all at once—not little by little, but in an instant, as if someone had lifted away a boulder that had been weighing her down for days.

"When did you—"

"While you were asking Hiruzen-sensei about the team arrangements, I was already thinking about it."

Kitahara Kaede poured himself a cup.

"Nawaki is my student. It's his first trip away from home. I'd feel better taking him myself than leaving him to anyone else."

Tsunade tightened her grip on the cup, then drained it.

When she set it down, she struck the table with the bottom of the cup. It made a sharp clack.

"Thanks."

"Why thank me? We're family."

Tsunade's lips curved briefly before she pressed them back together.

But she couldn't hide how much lighter she felt.

Leaning against the wall, she poured herself another cup, this time drinking more slowly.

"Kaede."

"Yeah?"

"While you're protecting him..."

She turned her head toward him.

"You need to take care of yourself, too."

Kitahara Kaede looked at her.

The candle flame flickered. Two tiny flames glimmered in his amber eyes.

"I will."

Tsunade looked away.

With her worries lifted, she drank more easily.

The conversation flowed, too—

The Chunin in the medical department who couldn't even wrap a bandage properly had finally learned basic wound dressing. "He still ties two knots around a finger, but that's better than the three he used to manage."

The letter Jiraiya had sent from abroad last time had handwriting as messy as a chicken's scratch, but he'd tucked a pressed flower inside. "I wonder who it was for."

Kitahara Kaede listened from across the table, sometimes replying, sometimes smiling.

By the time the two bottles were empty, Tsunade had grown quieter.

She leaned against the wall, her head tilted slightly. A faint blush spread over her cheeks, from her cheekbones to the roots of her ears.

Kitahara Kaede glanced out the window. The sky had already taken on the faintest shade of gray.

"It's getting late."

"Mm." Tsunade braced herself against the table and stood.

Her body swayed.

She grabbed the doorframe to steady herself, took a step—and her heel slipped. Her shoulder pitched sideways.

Kitahara Kaede reached out and caught her by the arm.

"I can walk on my own." Tsunade shook herself, but couldn't get free.

"If you're this drunk and fall by the roadside, tomorrow the whole village will know the First's granddaughter was sprawled beside a ditch."

"Then I'll—"

"Stay here. You can sleep in the bed. I'll make do in the living room."

He let go of her and pulled a spare blanket from the cupboard.

Tsunade stood rooted to the spot.

Her ears were already burning.

She opened her mouth—her mind raced with thoughts—but all she managed was a quiet, "As if I'd want to."

Her voice was so weak she could barely stand to hear it herself.

As soon as the words left her mouth, she stumbled and pitched forward—

An arm swept around her waist, catching her.

Then both her feet left the ground.

Kitahara Kaede supported her shoulders and back with one arm and slid the other beneath her knees, scooping her up.

He didn't give her a chance to refuse again.

Tsunade went completely rigid.

So close.

Much too close.

His warmth seeped into her from his arms, his chest, every inch of him pressed against her. It was unbearably hot.

Her lips were less than two inches from his collarbone. Every breath felt like she was drinking in the heat of his body.

It felt as though someone had seized her heart. Each beat grew heavier, more forceful.

She turned her face away, refusing to look at him. Her ears were bright red.

"...Put me down."

Her voice was muffled, and there was next to no force behind her protest.

Kitahara Kaede lowered his eyes to her.

Her ears were flushed hot, her lips tightly pressed together, and the line of her neck stretched taut as she tilted her head back.

He didn't answer. He strode into the bedroom.

Tsunade felt herself being lowered onto the bed, her back sinking into the soft mattress.

The bedding held a faint, dry scent.

It was subtle, yet everywhere.

Tsunade's fingers curled without her realizing it.

Kitahara Kaede pulled the thin blanket over her and tucked in the edges.

"Go to sleep."

He turned and walked out.

Tsunade watched his back and opened her mouth.

But no words came.

"I'm turning off the light."

The bedroom sank into darkness.

Footsteps crossed the living room and faded into the distance.

The last faint sound came as he lay down on the sofa.

Tsunade rolled over to face the door.

She couldn't see anything in the darkness, but with only a wall between them, she knew he was right there.

Her heart was racing embarrassingly fast, but her body was relaxing little by little.

As if something were surrounding her from every direction.

It wasn't a hand or a blanket. It was his scent lingering throughout the room.

It felt safer than her own bed.

Tsunade tugged the blanket up and covered half her face.

When he held her, his heartbeat had been unbelievably steady.

She was the only one whose heart had been pounding like crazy.

"...Jerk."

Her voice was barely audible.

The corners of her mouth curved upward.

Slowly, her breathing evened out.

Living room.

Kitahara Kaede lay on the sofa, a thin blanket draped over his waist.

The person next door turned over twice, then fell quiet.

Breathing drifted through the wall, soft and slow.

He closed his eyes.

He only had to doze off for the sky to grow light.

Morning sunlight squeezed through the gaps in the window lattice, drawing a few thin white lines across the floor.

Kitahara Kaede got up and folded the thin blanket.

He walked to the bedroom door. It wasn't quite shut, with a gap about a finger's width wide.

He pushed it open.

Tsunade was curled up beneath the blanket, her long golden hair spread across the pillow.

A section of the slender silver chain around her neck showed, its blue pendant resting in the hollow of her collarbone and swaying faintly with each breath.

Kitahara Kaede watched her for two seconds.

He didn't go closer.

He turned and went to the kitchen.

He tore off a strip of memo paper, wrote a few words, and tucked it under a teacup.

Then he picked up the ninja tool pouch hanging by the door and quietly opened it.

He glanced back toward the bedroom.

He stepped outside.

The door closed with barely a sound, too soft to wake the person inside, who turned over in her sleep.

The note was brief.

"There's food in the freezer."

A line had been added underneath.

"Did you sleep well last night?"