Chapter 11: Kiss and Run Away, Really Exciting

"Kiss and run, man… this is too exciting!"

The delicious aroma of dinner filled the air as steam rose from the plates. Ren smacked his lips, still savoring the faint, sweet taste on them.

"Thank god she froze up at the moment. Otherwise, I'd be smeared across the Hokage Rock by now. But... with her temper, I'm dead tomorrow for sure."

The grin on his face slowly faded into a frown. That fleeting moment of thrill? Yeah—he was now walking the thin line between bliss and death-by-Tsunade.

"Ah, screw it. Thinking hurts. Let's eat!"

He clapped his hands together. "Itadakimasu!" Then Ren grabbed his chopsticks and dove into the food like a starving Chūnin after a three-day mission.

Outside the window, the setting sun dipped below the forested hills surrounding Konoha. The purple-red hues of twilight softened, while the gentle breeze caused the little potted plants on the sill to sway as if giggling along with Ren's antics.

Today's dinner was cooked by the chef from the Sarutobi compound. Compared to Danzo's questionable culinary skills, this was paradise on a plate. It was flavorful, varied, and... edible.

Danzo, seated quietly across the table, didn't eat much. He finished a modest bowl of rice and laid his chopsticks down, watching Ren clean his plate like a feral raccoon. When Ren finally slowed down, Danzo calmly picked up the empty dishes and took them to the sink.

It had once been awkward, this care, this tenderness. But after years of living under the same roof, Ren had grown accustomed to the silent affection Danzo gave—not in words, but in these small, consistent gestures.

Still chewing on a mouthful of food, Ren slumped forward. His chakra was drained after fighting Uchiha Fugaku earlier, and hunger gnawed at his insides like Akamaru on a chew toy.

"Eat slower. No one's taking it away," Danzo said warmly. "If you're still hungry, I'll cook something extra. We've got ingredients. Sushi? Bibimbap?"

Ren paused and gave him a flat look. "You? Cook again? I'm not suicidal. I'd rather go another round with Fugaku than eat your stir-fry again."

Danzo let out a rare chuckle and ruffled Ren's hair. "Harsh. But fair. I'll ask the chef for lessons when things calm down. There's some tension building in the Land of Wind. I was in talks with Sarutobi about it today."

Ren didn't respond, just buried his face in his plate. But inwardly, he felt warm. Danzo was... trying.

After a pause, Danzo's tone grew more serious.

"By the way, you still haven't told me what really happened. Did Uchiha Fugaku actually attack you?"

Ren gave a nonchalant grunt. "Yeah."

"You're lying."

"I'm not! That blockhead ambushed me in a back alley this morning. No Sharingan at first—he thought I was easy prey. But once he started losing, he activated it. Too late, though. I already sliced his arm with a chakra-infused kunai. Lucky hit, really."

Danzo raised an eyebrow. "You won? Against Fugaku? Even injured, that kid's an Elite Chūnin. You expect me to believe you took him down solo?"

Ren smirked. "Believe it. I'm not some random Genin, y'know. I'm me. The genius of Konoha!"

Danzo laughed, eyes glinting with pride. "Alright, alright, you're a genius. Just like your old man."

"Old man? Please. You and the Third were still tripping over logs at my age."

Danzo winced. "Oof. Right in the legacy."

Ren snorted and resumed eating. But a thought suddenly struck him. His eyes lit up.

"You extorted three Jōnin from Uchiha Aida today, right? How about lending me one?"

Danzo narrowed his eyes. "Lend you a Jōnin? That's not a small ask. What for?"

Ren hesitated, then shrugged. He wasn't going to lie—Danzo would figure it out anyway.

"Fine. I'll be real with you. On my way home, I ran into Tsunade… She cornered me, tried to make me apologize for what happened. But I panicked. She's hot, okay? And I might've... kinda... kissed her. Then ran."

Danzo blinked. "…"

———

The night wind whistled through Konoha's rooftops, rustling leaves and rattling windows. Clouds drifted across the sky, dimming the moonlight.

In the northern sector of the village, Tsunade lay wide awake on her futon. She flipped over again for the hundredth time, groaning in frustration. Her mind wouldn't shut up.

He kissed her. The brat actually kissed her!

That was her first kiss. Her first!

In all her daydreams, Tsunade had imagined a dashing, gallant man—maybe a swordsman from the Land of Iron or a tall shinobi with a tragic backstory—stealing her kiss beneath a blooming sakura tree.

Instead... it was a 7-year-old menace with a cocky grin and the nerve to run away afterwards!

She pulled the blanket over her face and screamed into it.

"Ughhhhhh!"

Tsunade sat up, gripping her pillow like a lifeline. She wasn't just angry—she was mortified. How had she let her guard down? She was Tsunade Senju! Granddaughter of the First Hokage! A student of Hiruzen freaking Sarutobi!

That brat should've been flat on the ground begging for forgiveness—not sprinting off like he just won the Chūnin Exams!

And worst of all? He smiled as he did it.

"Bastard... Stinky brat... you really think this is over?"

Tsunade's eye twitched. Her fists clenched.

Images filled her mind—Ren hanging upside down from the Hokage Monument, Ren buried in a crater, Ren forced to do pushups until he cried.

Suddenly, a wicked grin spread across her face.

"Oh, you're done, brat. Tomorrow, you're gonna wish you were born a civilian."

Finally, with a final yawn and her pillow clutched tightly against her chest, Tsunade drifted into sleep—dreaming of vengeance served with a side of chakra-enhanced knuckle sandwiches.

"Tomorrow, Ren... your face meets my fist."