Mornings in Konoha always felt like carefully brewed premium gyokuro, carrying just the right touch of coolness and the warmth of sunlight as they seeped silently through the newly budding branches in the Uchiha Residence's courtyard.
As the newly appointed Fifth Hokage, Tsunade naturally had countless matters to attend to. She was already nowhere to be seen by the first light of dawn.
Apparently, she had gone to deal with a mountain of old messes that the old geezer Hiruzen Sarutobi had "strategically left behind" before stepping down,
as well as the chain reaction caused by a certain former Root leader who had been tied up into a piece of "performance art."
Inside the bedroom, on the tatami, a certain naturally curly, silver-haired man who ought to have been enjoying a leisurely life as the "Hokage's supportive wife" was sprawled in an exceedingly undignified spread-eagle position,
occupying most of the bedding. A suspicious glimmer even clung to the corner of his mouth. Clearly, he was still enjoying his umpteenth intimate date with the Sandman's daughter and had no intention of waking.
"Mmph..."
Shinichi rolled over, smacked his lips, and groggily opened one eye. The sunlight was a little harsh, and he instinctively raised a hand to shield his eyes before slowly crawling out from under the covers.
Sporting a head of hair several degrees more artistic than a bird's nest, he staggered over to the window and stretched mightily. His bones cracked and popped like a robot that had just been assembled.
"Tch. Ever since Tsunade became Hokage, she's been acting more and more like a 'model husband who leaves early and comes home late'... Pfft, I mean a 'model Hokage.'"
He muttered under his breath, his voice carrying the languor of someone fresh out of bed, along with a