Duty and Desire (Patreon)

**Update** Lineart

In a realm meant to harbor novelty, the entire Hattori clan brimmed with anticipation. Yet, young Yuuta found himself forced to shelve his expectations. The young jonins were already dispatched on missions, his presence excluded. Not even a leftover D-rank task — like rescuing a cat ensnared in a tree — remained unclaimed.

However, an obligation still beckoned within the Fifth Hokage's chambers, Tsunade Senju presiding. Her loyal aide, Shizune, had prematurely withdrawn due to a grave injury sustained during a mission. Still, she clung to the fringes of the office's machinations — a true work devotee, confined to the bureaucratic tasks her constitution allowed.

The burgeoning promise of Yuuta swiftly embraced the rhythmic cadence of the Fifth Hokage's domain. Shizune, possessing modest hopes for the fledgling ninja's efficacy, was stunned by his surpassing prowess. A trace of despondency lingered in the youth's countenance, yet he executed his assignments with marked efficiency. An arrangement that ushered early departures, sparing all from the burden of overtime.

Moments of ennui could drape Yuuta's form within the office's confines, a canvas bereft of vivid strokes. The Fifth Hokage's aura could send shivers traversing his spine. But as the days wove their tapestry, the prospect of her presence metamorphosed into a solace. Tsunade detected an innate kindness and courtesy in the young jonin, a demeanor set apart from the common decorum of his ninja counterparts. This ease rendered her conversant on any subject, including the whimsical and trivial.

A moon waxed and waned, revealing the potential to embroil Yuuta in higher echelons of mission. A door Tsunade willingly opened. Yet, she exacted an extension of his allegiance, invoking the narrative that he was the most distinguished acolyte following Shizune's departure. One side of Shizune’s disposition found serenity in these absences. But, a pinge of envy silently simmered on the other side. Thus, Yuuta's vocational symphony oscillated between the melodies of missions and bureaucracy. Occasionally, even the chore of sweeping office floors fell upon his shoulders. "One who exists solely to serve truly lives," he jestingly quipped.

And gradually, Tsunade unfurled in the presence of the youthful jonin, casting aside the gravitas of weighty concerns. His demeanor could ameliorate the somber, crafting lightness out of thin air — a dance more curative than any healing jutsu, and all but devoid of chakra's siphoning touch.

By the fourth chapter of this unfolding chronicle, an intimacy of conversation ensconced the two souls. The proximity with Tsunade could induce discomfiture within Yuuta, yet her aura enveloped him like a warm embrace. The duties of missions became a backdrop, tolerated as a necessary drudgery. A scripted choreography executed with habitual ease — his appearance in Tsunade's office became a reflex unbound by her vocal summons.

The morn's sun radiated ardor as Tsunade, fatigued by an earlier trial, beseeched Yuuta's acumen in channeling chakra for restoration. His confirmation birthed her query — could he identify the tension-laden junctures of her shoulders and then, with careful grace, absolve them of their burdens? Thus, the young jonin found himself kneading the dew-kissed shoulders of the Fifth Hokage.

Absence of intimacy’s echoes in his life might have kindled panic, were it not for the edifice of his training and upbringing. Massaging the Fifth Hokage's shoulders — sanctioned by her unwavering trust — bordered on the intimate. Or perhaps, within the prism of gentle words and firm tones, it crossed into the realm of the intimate. "Here, please, like this... Remarkable, Yuuta. Your command over chakra's healing essence shines. A medical expedition might be your next endeavor," she murmured with a voice that held galaxies within its cadence.

Within the Sato clan, fervor ignited for Yuuta to shine amidst the crucible of an S-rank mission. Yet, the young jonin counteracted the tides of excitement with the wisdom of restraint. He sermonized that the current juncture was premature, that his role as Tsunade's aide was still in its bloom. An overture that stirred the embers of the Sato's hearts, yet kindled their desire to witness his martial prowess.

But Yuuta's first bout emerged not on a battlefield, but within the confines of his own desires. Proximity to Tsunade roused tempestuous yearnings, forging moments of unraveled restraint when solitude enshrouded him. He dared traverse intimacy's precipice, touching the Fifth Hokage's form with a depth laden in vulnerability. Yet, he maintained a wall of secrecy, dreading the chime of endless gossip — gossip that could mar more than his ninja pedigree, shrouding him in a perpetual exile from his esteemed superior.

As the hands of time kept their ceaseless waltz, days unfurled within the office. Tsunade's musing murmurs hinted at sporadic discomfort rooted in the soles of her feet — the heel of a sandal occasionally a thorn in her step. The lingering balm of Shizune's massages had been truncated by the expanse that separated them, the Sand Village the recipient of her present sojourn.

And so, after the third manifestation of discomfort in as many days, Yuuta extended a polite offer — a gesture prompted by the fondness Tsunade harbored for his earlier ministrations. Over a year's companionship with the Hokage, they'd woven a tapestry of confessions, a camaraderie transcending employer-employee stratification. Tsunade shed her mantle of authority, the office's veneer dissipating like mist in the face of the morning sun.

Subtle flirtation dripped like dew, Tsunade savoring the tempo of desire's dance, her consent suspended in playful elusiveness. Dialogue flowed in sinuous streams, navigation devoid of abrupt change. Yuuta, the willing participant, stood poised to yield if the currents of consent receded. And so, with grace befitting a master artist's brushstroke, Yuuta engaged in his ministration, evoking sighs of solace from the depth of Tsunade's being.

In their shared silence, unspoken vows bound their paths, a profound resonance that rendered formalities obsolete. A year's passage laid the foundation for a foundation-less connection, the veil of discretion drawn over their affair, shrouding it from the prying eyes of bureaucracy. A delicate accord bound them, Tsunade an arbiter of caution, leaving the door ajar for Yuuta's departure if he so willed.

However, the passage of seasons had etched a constellation of deeper intent in Yuuta's heart. His ardor swelled, a steady and gentle tide of affection that beckoned him into an orbit unyielding to inertia. As moon and sun traversed their ceaseless cycle, Yuuta's devotion cast a shadow that enveloped even his desires, a nexus of warmth that rendered past hesitations trivial.

“Who would have fathomed it, Yuuta?” He ruminated silently. Our ambitions set sail towards certain horizons, yet we find ourselves adrift in lands where unforeseen contentment resides, awaiting our embrace!