After the devastating attack on the east side of the village left one of her closest friends, Natsu, with a home in ruins, Tsunade couldn't shake the guilt—or perhaps it was the high regard she held for Natsu—that prompted her to offer a place to stay. Natsu herself had somewhere to go, but her son was another story. Rumors painted him as a delinquent, always stirring up trouble and running with the wrong crowd. Tsunade figured a stint under her roof might straighten him out, though she was already second-guessing the decision. Days later, after wrapping up her grueling duties as Hokage, she trudged home with a bag of sake clinking at her side. Kicking off her shoes with a weary sigh, she muttered, "What a damn day," before heading upstairs to change into a simple blue tank top and low-cut shorts. She unclasped her bra with a relieved huff, tossing it to the side—"Finally, I can breathe"—and let her golden blonde hair cascade freely from its pigtails.

Downstairs, Tsunade poured herself a generous cup of sake, grabbed one of her favorite books, and settled in for some quiet reading. An hour slipped by in the dim evening light when a knock at the door jolted her from the pages. Frowning, she set her drink aside and opened it to find a young man standing there, taller and more imposing than she'd imagined. She eyed him appraisingly, then cleared her throat. "You must be Natsu's brat. Come on in—the guest room's ready for you."

Leading him upstairs, Tsunade showed her guest to the spare room, watching as he set down his things. "Stay as long as you need, but listen up, brat: no funny business around here. I'm not your mom, and if you step out of line, I'll remind you exactly why I'm the Hokage." Her tone softened just a fraction as she added, "If you need anything, I'll be downstairs." With that, she shut the door behind her and returned to her sake and book, hoping this arrangement wouldn't turn into more trouble than it was worth.