Konoha: The Honored One

The snowy plains of the Land of Iron stretched endlessly under a heavy blanket of clouds. The frigid air bit at anything exposed, and the ground was smothered in layers of thick snow, crunching underfoot with each step.

"Lady Tsunade, it's freezing here. Please wear this." Kurenai pulled a plush coat from her bag and draped it over Tsunade's shoulders.

Despite her rivalry with the Hokage in a very specific department (one involving a certain white-haired menace), Kurenai deeply respected her. After all, Tsunade was not only a master of monstrous strength and healing arts but also someone who had mentored her with surprising patience.

Tsunade smiled faintly, adjusting the coat. "You've got quite the talent for taking care of others, Kurenai. Now tell me..." She leaned in slightly, her tone laced with playful curiosity. "Do you like Gojo?"

It wasn't just a curveball—it was a straight fastball.

Kurenai's eyes widened as her brain stuttered. "Eh—uh—what?" she stammered, her cheeks flushing crimson.

Of course, she liked him. She liked him so much it felt criminal. But this? Being asked outright by his mother figure? It was like being called into the principal's office, except worse.

"I... uh..." Kurenai fidgeted, her words tangling in her throat. The sheer awkwardness of the situation rendered her mute.

Tsunade smirked, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "You're cute, but you're light-years behind. I'm still number one in his heart."

Kurenai froze. "Wha...?"

"Oh, don't look so shocked. We've been together since he was a kid. Bathing, sleeping, and everything in between," Tsunade teased, her voice dripping with smugness.

Kurenai's jaw practically hit the icy ground. Competing with Tsunade felt less like a love triangle and more like an uphill battle against Mount Everest.

But then, she straightened her posture, determination gleaming in her eyes. "Lady Tsunade," she began firmly, her voice steady despite the inferno in her cheeks. "I like Gojo. I like him a lot. And even if you're his number one, I'll give it my all!"

Tsunade blinked, mildly impressed. "Bold of you."

She clapped Kurenai on the shoulder, almost sending her sprawling into the snow. "Work hard, then. My brat's not easy to catch."

Kurenai wheezed as she clutched her now-sore back. Was that encouragement or an assassination attempt?

Still, her resolve didn't waver. "Even if Gojo wanted three wives... or four, I wouldn't mind!" she declared with the feverish conviction of someone who'd already resigned themselves to chaos.

Tsunade paused, visibly startled. "...You're serious?"

"Dead serious," Kurenai nodded, her blush deepening.

At that moment, Gojo himself materialized behind them, as if summoned by sheer drama.

The six-eyed sorcerer held a lollipop between his teeth, his signature nonchalant grin plastered across his face. "Xiaohong, a real man doesn't settle for less."

"GOJO?!" Kurenai practically jumped out of her skin.

"Hmm?" He tilted his head, feigning innocence. "Heard everything."

"E-EVERYTHING?!" Her voice cracked. Her confession, her willingness to tolerate polygamy—everything?!

Gojo waggled a finger. "Yup. Every word. Like, 'I like Gojo very much.'"

Kurenai was so mortified she considered digging a hole in the snow and disappearing forever. "L-Lady Tsunade, you set me up!" she accused, pointing a trembling finger at the Hokage.

Tsunade shrugged, the very picture of mischief. "Don't waste time whining. We've got a summit to attend."

Kurenai's face burned brighter than Amaterasu's flames as she bolted toward the Iron Fortress, her embarrassment practically melting the snow in her path.

"Cute reaction," Tsunade remarked, watching her retreating figure.

Gojo chuckled. "She's fun to tease."

"Don't get cocky," Tsunade warned, narrowing her eyes. "And quit goofing around. We're representing Konoha here."

"Relax," Gojo replied breezily. "It's just a glorified class reunion."

Tsunade rolled her eyes. "If you embarrass me, I'll make sure you regret it."

Iron Fortress: The Five Kage Summit

Inside the conference hall, tensions simmered.

The Raikage cracked his knuckles impatiently. "Where's the Hokage? We don't have all day!"

Onoki sipped his tea with a disapproving hum. "So impatient. Youth these days have no manners."

Unfortunately, his attempt at stoicism was interrupted by his chronic back pain. "Ow, ow, OW!" he hissed, clutching his lower back.

Terumi Mei smirked. "Maybe it's time you retired, old man."

Onoki glared. "I'm not letting some 'youngster' take over!" He turned to Gaara with a mocking grin. "Speaking of which, the Sand's Kage is practically a toddler!"

Gaara's expression remained impassive. "Strength has no age limit."

A few days ago, Grandma Chiyo learned that Sasori was responsible for the masacre, so she atoned for his actions by using a secret technique to exchange her life for another, resurrecting Gaara.

Before Onoki could retort, the doors burst open.

Gojo swaggered in like he owned the place, hands in his pockets and his ever-present lollipop firmly in place. "Hey, clear the way, losers. The Hokage's here."

The samurai lining the entrance exchanged bewildered glances but stepped aside, lest they face the wrath of Konoha's wildcard.

A, the Raikage glared. "You're late!"

Gojo casually grabbed the Raikage by the collar, leaning in close with a menacing grin. "Watch your tone, pal. That's Lady Tsunade to you. Show some respect, or I'll toss you into the nearest latrine."

The room fell into stunned silence.

Tsunade's face turned crimson—not from cold, but pure mortification. She leaned toward Gojo and whispered through gritted teeth, "You're dead when we get home."

Gojo smirked. "Worth it."

Raikage, his veins practically popping, roared, "You little—!"

"Enough!" Tsunade's voice cut through the tension like a blade. She stepped forward, radiating authority. "Let's begin."