As night settled in, Goten landed on the Hokage's bedroom windowsill. The window was unlocked and opened with a gentle push.
A faint floral fragrance lingered in the room after her bath. Tsunade sat before the mirror in an excessively thin silk nightrobe, drying her wet golden hair with a cloth.
Her hair clung to her fair shoulders, and droplets slid down her collarbones, disappearing deep beneath her neckline.
The robe's fabric really was too thin. It cinched tightly at her waist, swelled astonishingly where it should, and revealed every curve under the moonlight.
Goten leaned against the window frame and admired her for two seconds.
Worth it. This trip wasn't wasted. Tsunade caught sight of his figure in the bronze mirror, and the cloth in her hand paused.
Her heart suddenly skipped half a beat, but instead of turning around, she lifted her chin.
"Who let you in? Was the door unlocked?"
"The window was unlocked."
Goten climbed inside and swaggered over behind her.
Before she could react, he took the cloth away, replacing it with his fingers as he slipped them into her damp hair and slowly combed downward.
"What are you doing...?"
"Helping you comb your hair."
"Who told you to...?"
"What kind of man wouldn't help his wife after she's washed her hair?"
The corner of Tsunade's mouth twitched, and she said nothing more.
As his fingertips slid down through her hair, they brushed the small patch of delicate skin at the back of her neck.
Tsunade's shoulders tensed. In the mirror, a faint blush spread across her mature, alluring face.
"You're so rough. You're pulling my hair. Do you realize that?"
Goten smiled, lowered his head, brought his lips close to the back of her neck, and blew gently.
"Then should I blow on it