Chapter 10: Kushina's Cooking Lessons

Tsunade clicked her tongue, her pride bruised. "Tch, whatever."

Kushina, standing tall despite the exhaustion in her eyes, folded her arms. "First, go wash yourself up, Tsunade. Even I can barely stand you when you're drunk—how do you expect a baby to?"

There was no malice in her voice, just a quiet firmness. A warmth laced with patience.

Tsunade scoffed, but she knew when she was being given an out.

"Go," Kushina continued, softer this time. "Or you'll have to sleep outside."

For a moment, Tsunade considered pushing back, but something in Kushina's expression made her pause.

She wasn't just saying this for Naruto.

She was saying it for her.

The baby was an easy excuse. But Kushina had been watching—watching Tsunade unravel, bit by bit, beneath the weight she refused to share with anyone.

Even now, she wouldn't pry. Wouldn't push.

She just stood there, waiting.

Tsunade exhaled through her nose, her shoulders dropping in reluctant defeat. "...Okay. Okay. I'll go."

She turned on her heel, making her way toward the washroom. But just before she stepped out of sight, she heard a small voice—so small she almost missed it.

"Take care of yourself, Tsunade."

She didn't turn around.

She just lifted a hand in a lazy wave and kept walking.

Because if she turned back—if she saw the kindness in Kushina's eyes—she wasn't sure she could keep pretending she was fine.

Kushina sighed, hands on her hips, as she watched Tsunade trudge off to wash up. The legendary Sannin—one of the strongest kunoichi in history—was defeated by a baby's tears.

Tsunade would never live this down.

"Shizune," Kushina turned, her fiery red hair swaying. "You know how to cook, right?"

Shizune, holding Naruto carefully in her arms, nodded. "Yes, Kushina-sama."

Kushina frowned. "Drop the -sama. Just Kushina is fine."

Shizune blinked, a bit surprised, before offering a small smile. "Alright… Kushina."

Jiraiya, meanwhile, stood awkwardly in the corner. Watching. Unwanted.

Kushina narrowed her eyes at him. "Jiraiya, you don't have a place here. You should stay outside."

Jiraiya gasped dramatically. "What?! Not even a futon? Not even a blanket?"

"Not even a single leaf to cover yourself," she shot back.

Jiraiya clutched his heart. "Such cruelty… from Minato's wife no less… I've truly fallen from grace."

"Then keep falling—outside," Kushina deadpanned.

Jiraiya pouted as he dragged himself toward the door, shoulders slumped in exaggerated sadness.

But the second he stepped out, his expression changed. The teasing, the joking—it was all a cover.

Because deep down… watching Kushina with Naruto… watching Shizune, young but mature beyond her years… watching Tsunade lose to a baby in a way that wasn't just about alcohol but something deeper—

It made him feel like an outsider in ways he couldn't put into words.

Still, he shook it off. "Guess I'll go find a bar," he muttered, forcing a grin. "Maybe one with warm sake and women who appreciate me."

Inside, Shizune gently placed Naruto back into his crib as he cooed softly.

Then she turned to Kushina, rolling up her sleeves. "Alright. Let's start with something simple."

Kushina grinned—determined. "Yes! I'm finally going to learn how to cook properly!"

Inside, Tsunade scrubbed her arms furiously.

Dammit, she thought, why do I feel like I lost something more than just an argument?

She splashed water on her face.

Her hands trembled for just a second before she clenched them into fists.

"I'm not built for this," she murmured.

But deep down, she wished she was.

Tsunade scrubbed at her skin harder than necessary, the warm water cascading down her shoulders as she stood in the bathroom.

That damn brat…

She wasn't sure why she felt so irritated. She had faced war, death, and loss—things far more brutal than being rejected by a baby.

And yet…

The way he had curled into her arms for those few seconds—so warm, so trusting—only to push her away because of something as simple as her carelessness… stung more than she wanted to admit.

With a heavy sigh, she leaned against the wall, her wet hair clinging to her face.

Maybe she was just tired. Or maybe, deep down, she hated being reminded that there were things in life she could never have.

Things she had already lost.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Kushina was having her battle.

"Shizune, I swear, if this rice burns again—"

"You're stirring too fast, Kushina—-san," Shizune corrected quickly, dodging the wooden spoon that Kushina waved in frustration.

"I don't get it! Minato did this easily—missions, Hokage duties, and still came home and cooked!"

Shizune smiled as she calmly adjusted Kushina's grip on the pot. "That's because he probably followed steps properly instead of just attacking the food like an enemy shinobi."

Kushina pouted. "Cooking is harder than fighting."

Shizune just chuckled, guiding her through the next steps.

Outside, Jiraiya sat on the porch, resting his chin in his hands.

"Thrown out by my friends… even the brat doesn't like me…" he mumbled dramatically.

But despite his exaggerated sighs, he watched through the kitchen window, a small smile creeping onto his face.

It was rare, these days, to see a home so full of life.

After everything that had happened—the war, the losses, Minato's death—Kushina was still standing. Still pushing forward. Still trying.

And Naruto—he had a home, a family, people who cared.

Jiraiya had seen too many children left alone in the dark. Too many orphans turned into ghosts of what they could have been.

Not this one, he thought.

Naruto was different. He had people. He had love. And if Jiraiya had any say in it, the kid would never know what true loneliness felt like.

Even if it meant getting kicked out of the house every now and then.

With a small chuckle, Jiraiya leaned back and stared at the sky, watching as the stars began to twinkle into existence.

Maybe, just maybe, this village still had something worth protecting.

After an hour or more.

Tsunade stepped out of the washroom, steam swirling around her, a towel wrapped loosely around her body. Her golden hair clung slightly to her damp skin, and for the first time in a long while, she felt… refreshed. Maybe it was the warm water, or maybe it was Kushina's no-nonsense care—either way, she felt lighter.

In the kitchen, Kushina stood over the stove, her brows furrowed in deep concentration. The smell of something… not entirely burnt filled the air.

Tsunade smirked. "Don't tell me—you managed to make something edible?"

Kushina shot her a glare, though there was no real heat behind it. "Tch. It's a work in progress." She turned back to the pot, stirring carefully. "Cooking's harder than fighting, I swear."

Tsunade chuckled, walking over and peering into the pot. The contents looked okay. She raised an eyebrow. "Smells… not terrible."

Kushina sighed dramatically. "That's the best compliment I've gotten all week."

Behind them, Naruto lay on a small futon, watching them with wide eyes. His little hands flailed as he let out a happy gurgle, completely unaware of the world's problems.

Tsunade glanced at him, then back at Kushina, a rare softness in her eyes. "You're doing fine, you know."

Kushina stilled for a moment, then smiled. "Thanks."

For now, the world could wait.