Chapter 6:
The sun bathed the Hidden Leaf Village in a warm, golden glow, highlighting the lively hustle and bustle of shinobi and villagers alike. The Academy grounds were no different—students trained under the watchful eyes of instructors, and the air was filled with the sounds of sparring and lectures.
As always, Lady Tsunade commanded attention. Her figure, wrapped in a fitted kimono that accentuated her curves, moved gracefully as she strode through the Academy corridors. Her presence was magnetic—students and even fellow instructors couldn't help but steal lingering glances.
I had grown accustomed to admiration. The way young shinobi stumbled over their words or blushed when I addressed them was amusing, but today felt... different. The air was charged, and eyes lingered a little longer. The whispers were softer but more intense.
When I entered my classroom, I caught a few boys whispering near the back. Kenji, a brash, confident boy with a mop of black hair and piercing eyes, leaned over to his friends. "I swear, Lady Tsunade's even hotter today. She could probably knock out a whole village just by showing up."
His friend Taro, a quieter but equally smitten young man, blushed. "You've got a death wish, man. You know what she'd do if she heard you say that?"
Kenji smirked. "Worth it."
Feigning ignorance, I strode to the front of the class and addressed them. "Eyes up here, gentlemen. Unless you're training to fight walls, your focus should be on me."
A chorus of startled yelps and hurried apologies met my ears. I fought back a smirk.
I began my lesson on chakra control, demonstrating techniques with fluid precision. Yet, despite my attempts to focus on teaching, I couldn't ignore the intensity of the stares. My eyes flicked to Kenji, who watched with unabashed admiration. His boldness was matched by the hungry look in his eyes.
The lesson continued without incident, but the admiration was palpable—each time I demonstrated a jutsu or performed a movement, eyes tracked me hungrily. I could practically feel the heat of their gazes.
Class finally ended, and the students filtered out. Kenji lingered, his usual swagger in full force.
"Lady Tsunade," he called out, leaning casually against a desk. "Got a minute?"
I arched a brow, folding my arms. "And what's so urgent, Kenji?"
He grinned, not the least bit intimidated. "Just wanted to say your lessons are... motivating. Got me wanting to train even harder."
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Good. Keep up that drive. You'll need it if you ever want to reach the rank of jonin."
His smirk widened. "Maybe you could show me a few advanced techniques sometime—one-on-one?"
I met his gaze, unflinching. "Careful, Kenji. You're treading a fine line between confidence and arrogance."
He laughed, undeterred. "Confidence suits me better."
I let the smirk slip. "That remains to be seen."
He left the room, but the fire in his eyes promised he wasn't done pursuing. I watched him leave, a sigh slipping past my lips. He was talented, but reckless—a dangerous combination.
As I made my way down the hall, two more figures crossed my path—Akira and Daisuke, chunin instructors known for their impressive taijutsu skills. They glanced at me, eyes appreciative but respectful.
"Lady Tsunade," Akira greeted, offering a charming smile. Tall, muscular, and with a scar tracing his jawline, he exuded a rugged charm. "Always a pleasure to see you. Students behaving?"
I rolled my eyes. "They're always trouble."
Daisuke, leaner but with sharp eyes, chuckled. "Bet you keep them in line just fine."
Akira's gaze lingered a moment too long. "If you ever need a hand handling those brats, you know where to find us."
I smirked. "Good to know."
As I walked away, their eyes followed me, and I could practically feel the heat of their admiration. The attention was nothing new, but their interest was becoming blatant.
Later, in my office, I sorted through paperwork. A soft knock came at the door. "Come in," I called, expecting a student.
Instead, it was Ryota, a fellow instructor. A reserved, silver-haired shinobi with a stoic expression, he rarely spoke unless necessary. Yet today, there was a flicker of something in his gaze—interest?
"Lady Tsunade," he began, voice calm but intense. "I noticed the students were particularly attentive today."
I smirked. "Noticed, did you?"
Ryota hesitated, his eyes flicking to mine. "Hard not to. Your presence is... commanding."
The silence stretched, and I leaned back in my chair. "Anything else on your mind?"
He cleared his throat. "Just wanted to say... your teaching methods are inspiring."
I studied him. "Is that so?"
"Yes." His gaze didn't waver. "If you're ever in need of a sparring partner, I'd be honored."
I arched a brow. "You think you can keep up?"
The faintest smirk tugged at his lips. "I'd like to try."
He left, but his words hung in the air. It seemed admirers were multiplying—each with their own approach. Some were bold and flirtatious, others more reserved, but all drawn to me.
I leaned back, fingers tracing my lips thoughtfully. Teaching was becoming increasingly interesting—more than just instructing young shinobi. It seemed even my fellow instructors were eager to learn.
A sly grin curved my lips. Perhaps I'd let them compete for my attention—let the chase amuse me. After all, a little competition was good for motivation.
The Academy was about to get far more entertaining.