Later that night
The restaurant haruto chose wasn't loud or grand—just quiet, with a view of the village rooftops under the stars. A place that felt peaceful. Haruto was already waiting inside, feet propped up casually on the seat across from him, his arms folded behind his head like he owned the place.
Tsunade walked in wearing her formal green kimono, the Hokage necklace resting gently at her chest. The moment she saw him, she sighed—half exhausted, half amused.
"You're early."
"I heard the Hokage was paying," Haruto grinned. "I couldn't risk being late."
She gave him a mock glare and sat down across from him, setting her forehead on her palm. "Kami help me… I've been Hokage for half a day, and you already think I'm your personal bank."
"I mean," Haruto shrugged, "you're basically my grandma now. And grandmas spoil their grandkids, don't they?"
Tsunade stared at him, then burst out laughing. "Grandma, huh? You're lucky I'm in a good mood."
"Hey, you're the one who dragged me into all this Sannin-level nonsense. You owe me at least a bowl of rice and some beef."
"I'm ordering the most expensive bottle of sake just to balance the bill."
"You can try," Haruto said, resting his chin on his hands. "But you'll have to pour mine in tea. I'm still technically a kid, remember?"
Tsunade chuckled, then grew quiet for a moment. Her gaze softened as she watched him. "You remind me of Nawaki sometimes… when you're not being a brat."
Haruto blinked. "Your little brother?"
"Yeah," she said, eyes distant for a heartbeat. "He had that same stubborn spark in him. That ridiculous hope."
A silence settled between them, warm and a little sad. Then Haruto reached over and grabbed a dumpling from the platter that had just arrived.
"Well, if I'm carrying the torch, the least you can do is feed me properly."
Tsunade smiled gently. "You really are impossible."
"But charming," he said through a mouthful.
Tsunade laughed again, shaking her head. "You know… for a brat, you're starting to grow on me."
"And for a grandma," Haruto replied, "you're not half bad yourself."
"Tsunade… keep calm. Keep calm…" she muttered under her breath, a thick vein twitching on her forehead.
"Let's order!" Haruto beamed with enthusiasm, raising his hand to call the waiter.
A young man approached. "What can I get ya?"
"Two bowls of rice, chicken sauce strips on top—and miso soup. Oh, and maybe a salad too?"
The waiter nodded and returned moments later with two steaming bowls stacked high, miso soup beside them, and fresh green salad on the side.
Tsunade took her first bite and paused. "...Huh. This is better than I expected."
Haruto smiled, shoveling rice into his mouth. "I know, right? Actually... it's my first time here."
They ate mostly in silence, savoring the warmth of the meal. Just as Tsunade raised her hand to ask for the bill—
"We don't want it yet, right?" Haruto grinned.
At that exact moment, multiple trays of desserts—cakes, pastries, and sweets—were placed on the table.
Tsunade stared, confused. "...Did you order these?"
Haruto had already begun devouring a pastry. "They looked good."
A challenge silently passed between them. Tsunade picked up a pastry, biting into it slowly. Haruto, meanwhile, finished nearly an entire tray.
"Ugh… I'm stuffed," Haruto groaned, patting his stomach.
Tsunade leaned back with a sigh. "My wallet's going to need medical ninjutsu after this…"
"Tea!" Haruto called.
Tsunade's glare sharpened. He sipped the tea slowly.
"...Get me a sake," she muttered.
A cork popped.
She didn't bother with a cup—just placed the bottle directly to her lips and drank.
...
An hour later
Haruto glanced over. Tsunade was out cold, cheek pressed against the table, snoring lightly.
Rubbing his head, he sighed. Then, after a brief hesitation, he reached toward the purse nestled between her mountains.
"Bill, please."
The waiter brought it over—and Haruto's face fell.
"3,500 ryo?!"
He peeked inside Tsunade's purse.
"Only 1,000?! She's broke!"
He scanned the itemized list.
"700 for one bottle? I got scammed!"
Haruto groaned, pulled out 3,700 ryo from his own wallet, tossed in a 200 ryo tip, and dragged Tsunade out of the restaurant.
...
They stumbled through the quiet streets of Konoha.
Tsunade clung to him like a sack of flour, arms draped around his neck.
"She's so heavy…" Haruto grumbled. Two… soft, distracting things pressed against his back. His face turned red.
Eventually, he reached their destination.
The Namikaze-Uzumaki residence.
Minato and Kushina's old house—now his.
He opened the door, flipped the lights on, and gently carried Tsunade to a bedroom. He laid her down, fixed her blanket, and let out a long, aching sigh.
"That back pain is permanent now."
Stretching his arms, he wandered into the bathroom and ran hot water into the tub.
He sank in with a groan of relief. The warmth seeped into his bones.
"Is this how rich people live?"
The day replayed in his head—Tsunade's inauguration, the crowd, the feast, Naruto's departure…
And the scam.
Tsunade had ripped him off.
He blew bubbles under the water and grumbled.
After soaking, he stepped out, wrapped a towel around his waist, and walked back into the hall.
He paused outside Tsunade's room.
(EMERGENCY MEETING FOR ALL READERS)
Should I do what you're thinking?
If no one stops me, the next chapter's already loading.
And yes—we might just be drinking some milk.
Tsunades milk 🥛