Takeshi lay sprawled on the bed, arms crossed behind his head, staring at the ceiling of the dimly lit room. The wooden planks above him seemed to whisper under the flickering light of a lantern, casting dancing shadows on the walls.
The holographic interface of his system hovered before his eyes, glowing with a soft blue light. As usual, it was time to see what rewards he'd earned this time.
With two girls this time, the points should be decent.
[System] — 30 merit points have been added.
[System] — 20 merit points have been added.
[System] — 50 merit points have been added…
Scanning the notifications, Takeshi wanted to curse the flawed system. The numbers were clear: 100 merit points had been added to his tally, a paltry reward for the mission he'd just completed with the two girls.
"Was it because Mei took the lead at one point…?" he thought, struggling to understand the point distribution.
He sighed deeply, the sound echoing in the silent room. The two girls he'd been with earlier weren't bad, but they weren't extraordinary either.
"Hell, I don't even know the other one's name…"
In the heat of the moment, they hadn't even exchanged introductions. Mei hadn't left much time for formalities.
"They couldn't compare to a woman in her thirties, I guess," he concluded as a fleeting image crossed his mind: a Jonin, a mature woman with a slender figure. "No… not comparable."
And then, without warning, his imagination drifted to a far more imposing figure, a legend among ninjas. Tsunade.
The mere thought of her, with her generous curves and overwhelming charisma, ignited a treacherous heat within him.
He swallowed, his eyes gleaming with avarice. How many merit points could such a prize earn him? Thousands, perhaps. A fortune in power.
He closed his eyes, brushing the thought away like an annoying fly.
"Focus, idiot," he muttered to himself.
Tsunade was out of reach, at least for now. Who would dare oppose him if he decided to pursue every waifu in this world?
But for now, he had more pressing priorities. Letting his mind wander to such risky fantasies would only distract him.
Grunting, Takeshi sat up and left the bed with fluid ease. The floor creaked slightly beneath his feet as he approached the small window overlooking the adjacent alley.
The muffled sounds of the village drifted up to him: distant laughter, the clatter of carts, the whisper of wind slipping between buildings.
Night was falling, and in the blink of an eye, the day was already over.
He sat cross-legged in the center of the room, adopting the lotus position with ease. His hands rested on his knees, palms facing upward. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.
The cool evening air carried a faint scent of burnt wood and dampness, a blend that soothed his senses.
Meditation was not only for forging his body into the Supreme Avatar but also his refuge, a way to discipline his turbulent mind, to channel his thoughts toward his true goals.
Merit points, missions, targets… it all formed a complex chessboard, and he had to stay several moves ahead.
His breath slowed, deepened. He visualized his chakra, a pulsating energy flowing within him like an invisible current.
Each inhale strengthened this flow, each exhale banished distractions. Images of Tsunade, the two kunoichi, the shimmering points faded, replaced by cold clarity.
He was not just a bounty hunter or an opportunist. He was a methodical predator, and every step he took brought him closer to his true goal, whatever it might be.
After what felt like an eternity, Takeshi reopened his eyes. The lantern still burned, but its flame was weaker, casting a soft light on the walls. He felt centered, his mind sharp as a kunai blade.
He stood, stretching his muscles with feline grace, and headed to the small adjoining bathroom.
The bath he had prepared earlier was still warm, steam rising in lazy tendrils.
…
A few streets away, in another bathroom, Natsumi soaked in a steaming tub. Her chestnut hair clung to her shoulders, and her brown eyes stared into the water as if seeking answers.
After a few seconds, she closed her eyes, lost in a fog of thoughts she wished she could forget.
But it was impossible. "Takeshi. That bastard Takeshi." She replayed it all, every dirty, scorching detail. The way he'd pinned her to the bed, his grip on her hips, his breath against her skin.
She'd thought she was in control, but he'd shattered her, and worse, she'd loved it. Too much.
She clenched her teeth, trying again to chase the image away. But her body didn't care about her will.
That heat in her belly, that tingling creeping up her thighs, it drove her mad. She'd already given in, a hand slipping beneath the water, her fingers seeking to soothe the craving that gnawed at her.
She bit her lip, her breath ragged, as she let herself go. Every movement brought back memories of Takeshi, his piercing gaze, the way he'd taken her from behind, brutal and precise.
She saw his hands on her, his body against hers, and it made her tremble.
Her pace quickened, the water lapping softly around her.
She closed her eyes tighter, as if that could cut her off from the world. It was him she saw, him she felt, even though he was miles away. Her breath grew rougher, her muscles tense. She muffled a soft "mmmmh" against her fist as the wave built, relentless.
And then it burst. A spasm ripped through her, wringing a moan from her that she stifled against her hand.
The orgasm shook her, intense, burning, stealing her breath for a few seconds.
She lay there, gasping, her head resting against the edge of the tub. The water was almost cold now, but she didn't care.
She should have felt emptied, soothed, even just a little. But no. That heat in her belly was still there, like a fire refusing to die.
She opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling without seeing it. Her body still trembled, but not from cold. It was worse. She wanted him again. Him. Takeshi. That bastard who'd left her in this state, with a void she couldn't fill.
"What's wrong with me?" she whispered, her voice broken. She ran a hand over her face, wiping away the sweat and water that mingled there.
She was supposed to be stronger than this, a thirty-year-old kunoichi who had faced difficult situations, not a girl losing her grip over a younger man.
But right now, she could do without her pride. She just wanted… more.