Naruto: Marrying Tsunade

Chapter 7: Aokiji vs. Tsunade

"So, you went through all this trouble just to get me to teach you how to throw shuriken?"

Aokiji let out a deep sigh, staring blankly at Jiraiya, who stood in front of him with an eager expression.

Jiraiya clasped his hands together in a pleading gesture. "Please! I also want to be popular with girls!"

Aokiji hesitated for a moment before responding, "Speaking of shuriken, Orochimaru is pretty good at it too."

Jiraiya immediately scowled. "Compared to that cocky bastard, I'd rather learn from someone who shares my interests."

Aokiji's expression twitched. "...I already told you, I didn't read any of those books."

Jiraiya grinned and casually slung an arm around his shoulder. "Maid? White stockings? Ringing any bells?"

Aokiji was at a loss for words.

There really was no way to explain this anymore. Given Jiraiya's… observational tendencies, he was bound to figure something out sooner or later. After considering the fact that it might be useful to keep an eye on this perverted fool for future reference, Aokiji finally caved.

"Fine, I'll teach you," he muttered.

Jiraiya whooped in excitement, bouncing around like a child who had just been promised a lifetime supply of candy.

Aokiji, however, had his doubts.

Even if Jiraiya mastered shuriken, it was unlikely that he'd ever surpass Orochimaru in popularity.

After all, the biggest difference between them wasn't just talent or skill.

It was appearance.

But a promise was a promise. That afternoon, Aokiji and Jiraiya found a quiet, open training ground to begin their practice. Aokiji also saw this as an opportunity to sharpen his own skills—it wasn't good to stay cooped up at home training in solitude all the time.

Time passed quickly, and before they knew it, the sun had dipped toward the horizon, bathing the village in hues of orange and purple. The air cooled, and the sounds of distant villagers returning home filled the background.

Wiping sweat from his forehead, Aokiji glanced over at Jiraiya, who was still throwing shuriken with unwavering determination.

For a moment, he was genuinely surprised.

He had always assumed that his stamina was far above average, thanks to awakening both the Ice Release and the Sharingan at the same time. With the natural boost to his physical capabilities, most kids his age couldn't keep up with him.

And yet, Jiraiya was still going.

Aokiji narrowed his eyes.

Chakra was made up of two components—yang energy, derived from physical strength, and yin energy, tied to spiritual ability.

Could it be that Jiraiya's excessive lust boosted his yang energy, leading to an enormous chakra reserve?

Was that why he, despite his poor academic performance, had been chosen to train under the Third Hokage alongside Orochimaru and Tsunade?

The more Aokiji thought about it, the more sense it made.

In the world of shinobi, talent wasn't always about intelligence or technique. Sometimes, sheer chakra volume could determine one's future.

A shinobi could refine their skills in various ways—through keen judgment, strategic thinking, or precise weapons mastery.

But if a ninja had an absurdly high amount of chakra, none of that mattered.

With enough chakra, there was no need for tactics or strategies.

You could simply overpower everything in your path.

It was no wonder that those with massive reserves, like Jiraiya, were given special attention, even if they weren't particularly gifted in other areas.

It was the same reason why ninja teams were balanced so carefully. The system wasn't just about training young shinobi—it was about maintaining power structures. The so-called fair distribution of teams was an illusion, designed to keep certain families and bloodlines dominant.

Take the six students led by the Hokage's son and daughter-in-law, for example. On the surface, it was a diverse mix of promising young talents.

But if you looked deeper, every single one of them came from a major clan.

The Hyuga. The Inuzuka. The Aburame. The Akimichi. The Nara. The Yamanaka.

It was all planned.

Genius with genius.

Nobles with nobles.

Commoners with commoners.

Look at Neji, Tenten, and Lee.

They were the perfect example of a civilian team.

Neji, despite his exceptional talent, was branded with the Caged Bird Seal, forever locked in servitude to the Hyuga main family. In many ways, he was worse off than an actual commoner.

Everything—team formations, training, promotions—was structured to maintain the status quo.

That was just how the shinobi world worked.

After training, Jiraiya insisted on treating Aokiji to ramen as thanks for the lesson.

By the time Aokiji returned home, exhaustion weighed on his limbs. He briefly considered training his Ice Release, but he was too tired. Instead, he lay down on his futon, stretching his arms behind his head.

As he closed his eyes, his gaze accidentally landed on the small stack of books Jiraiya had so generously gifted him.

Aokiji let out a wry chuckle.

That idiot actually thought he could bribe him with smut?

Did he really seem like the kind of person who would—

...

Curious, Aokiji casually flipped one open.

Huh.

Maid. White silk stockings. Tsk.

Jiraiya really did have a way of picking out the good stuff.

He turned another page.

Then another.

Then another.

Wait.

Aokiji suddenly snapped out of it, shaking his head.

What the hell was he doing?

This was dangerous.

Strong condemnation filled his mind.

And yet, his hands kept flipping pages.

Just a few more minutes.

Then I'll go train.

Just a few more pages.

Then I'll put it away.

One more chapter...

One more...

...

By the time he finally forced himself to stop, the sun had already risen.

Aokiji stared at his reflection in the mirror the next morning, his expression dead inside.

His skin looked pale. His eyes were hollow.

He was haggard.

All because of some stupid illustrations.

"Dammit... This is all Jiraiya's fault," he muttered, scowling.

From today on, he would abstain from pornography.

No more distractions.

With a dramatic flourish, Aokiji slammed his toothbrush cup onto the sink.

On the way to the academy, he happened to run into Jiraiya.

After training together and sharing some common interests, the two had officially become friends.

Unfortunately, this also meant Jiraiya had become even more insufferable.

The moment he saw Aokiji, Jiraiya grinned and threw an arm around his shoulder.

"You look like you had a wonderful night yesterday," he teased.

"Shut up," Aokiji grumbled, shoving his arm off in disgust.

"Hey, don't be like that. I gave you my best stuff. When are you gonna let me borrow yours?"

Aokiji scoffed. "I already told you, I don't have any—"

A voice interrupted him from behind, sharp with disdain. "You boys are really disgusting, talking about these things so early in the morning."

Aokiji and Jiraiya turned around, only to see a girl their age standing with her arms crossed, a disapproving frown on her face.

Jiraiya lazily let his gaze drift over her, assessing her from head to toe. He then sighed, shaking his head dramatically.

Tsunade narrowed her eyes. "What are you looking at?"

"Washboard," Jiraiya muttered under his breath.

Tsunade didn't fully understand what he meant, but the smug expression on his face was enough to set her off. Without hesitation, she clenched her fist and swung it straight at him.

Aokiji barely had time to react before he saw Jiraiya's body lift off the ground. The punch connected with an explosive force, sending the white-haired boy flying backward, where he landed with a painful thud.

Aokiji stood frozen for a moment before blinking. "...Well."

Jiraiya groaned from the ground, clutching his stomach.

Tsunade turned her glare toward Aokiji, her expression still brimming with irritation. "What are you looking at? If you keep staring, I'll make sure you end up just like him."

Aokiji raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, hey, well done. I've been annoyed with this guy for a long time." He then quickly added, "Just so you know, I have no association with perverts like him."

Tsunade gave him a skeptical look.

"Hmph. We'll see about that. I'll settle this with you in the practical class."

Before Aokiji could even ask what she meant, Tsunade turned on her heel and walked off, leaving him standing there in confusion.

"What is that practical class about?" he finally asked aloud.

Jiraiya, still recovering, shot him a glare. "You don't even know what it is?"

Aokiji frowned. "That's why I'm asking."

"Think about it yourself! Who told you to sleep through class all the time?" Jiraiya huffed.

Aokiji stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head. "Forget it. I'll find out when the time comes." He stretched his arms and let out a yawn. "I need to catch up on some sleep. I studied too hard last night."

Jiraiya snorted. "Yeah, I bet you did."

The months passed quickly, and before Aokiji realized it, the day of the practical class had arrived. Unfortunately, he had long since forgotten about Tsunade's challenge.

"Uchiha Aokiji, Senju Tsunade."

The instructor's voice rang out across the training field, calling them forward.

Aokiji took a deep breath and stepped up, only for Tsunade to immediately turn to him with a confident smirk.

"I will defeat you, just like my grandfather defeated your ancestors in the past," she declared.

Aokiji blinked.

Wait a minute. Am I the Uchiha here, or is she?

The tension in the air was palpable. Both students performed the required seal of opposition, marking the official start of the match.

"Begin!" the instructor called.

Before the word had even fully left his mouth, Tsunade launched forward, her fist aimed directly at Aokiji's face.

Aokiji barely had time to react, twisting his body just enough to dodge. The force of her punch was so intense that he could feel the wind brush past his ear. His eyes widened.

Is she trying to cave my skull in?

Tsunade wasted no time following up with another attack. Her strikes came fast and relentless, forcing Aokiji on the defensive. He dodged one, then another, but the more he evaded, the clearer his disadvantage became.

This isn't good. At this rate—

Tsunade seized the opening. With a swift pivot, she brought her leg up and kicked him square in the chest. The impact sent him flying backward.

Aokiji hit the ground hard, coughing as he tried to catch his breath. He lifted a shaky hand in surrender.

"Tsunade-san is terrifying... I give up," he groaned, pressing a hand to his chest.

The instructor called the match in Tsunade's favor, and the standard post-fight procedure followed. Both students extended their hands, forming the seal of reconciliation to signify the resolution of the battle.

As their fingers touched, Aokiji became keenly aware of the warmth and pressure of Tsunade's grip.

"You disappoint me," Tsunade muttered, pulling her hand away with a slight huff.

Aokiji chuckled under his breath.

The match had ended, but the day was far from over. The instructor wasted no time calling up the next pair.

"Jiraiya, Orochimaru."

Aokiji watched as his friend, still sore from earlier, reluctantly stepped forward.

---

Days passed, and soon enough, the weekend arrived.

The sun was shining, the sky was clear, and the air was fresh. It was a perfect day for fishing.

Aokiji found himself by a secluded lake behind the mountain, where the water sparkled under the golden light. He cast his fishing line into the lake and leaned back, closing his eyes in relaxation.

Catching fish wasn't the point—this was about clearing his mind.

The art of chakra control required discipline and tranquility. He figured that practicing patience now would help him when it truly mattered.

As he drifted into peaceful stillness, his senses sharpened. His ears picked up on the slightest rustle of grass behind him.

Without opening his eyes, he spoke. "Come out."

The area fell silent for a moment before, sure enough, footsteps approached.

Aokiji cracked an eye open and turned to see a familiar figure stepping out from behind a tree.

Tsunade.

He blinked in surprise before letting a smirk creep onto his face. "Didn't expect you to be the type to spy on people, Tsunade-san."

Tsunade's expression darkened. She crossed her arms and got straight to the point. "Did you let me win last time?"

Aokiji arched an eyebrow, intrigued by the sudden question.