POV Change.

It started simple enough.

Tsunade wanted sake.

So Seijuro, a dutiful student, went out to fetch his sensei some of the booze she desperately craved; he had prayed for the day his sensei got married, so he wouldn't have to do such a menial task.

He was halfway down the street, adjusting his collar against the drizzle, when—bam—someone bumped into him.

Jiraiya.

"Yo," the white-haired idiot grinned like a fox caught red-handed. "Hey, hey, Seijuro, my guy, quick favor."

Seijuro knew this look. It was the look one horny man gave when he was trying to score good points on some fine shyt... Seijuro wasn't about to play wingman. Frankly, Jiraiya wasn't even on the list of people his sensei could marry.

For one, he wasn't her type. She didn't like perverts.

Two, he was a pervert, and she didn't like that.

Maybe if he stopped perving, she'd love him. But for now, even an unnamed Konoha Jounin named Dan or some shit would have a better chance at the coochie before Jiraiya.

Oh well, Seijuro had none of those problems. He had a girlfriend already—a cute one, mind you.

Seijuro may have 100 problems, but a woman ain't one of them.

He gave Jiraiya a look. The kind of look that said, What in the toad-summoning hell do you want now?

"Please," Jiraiya said, leaning in like a desperate man at a gambling table, "say something nice about me to Tsunade."

"...What kind of something?"

"You know, like—he's brave, he's mature, he's got a big—heart. Just hype me up a bit." He was so finna say "big chest" or something like that.

Seijuro tilted his head. "What do you have to offer?"

"I'm a Sage," Jiraiya said proudly.

Seijuro's eyes shimmered, and in an instant, the markings of Slug Sage Mode spread across his face. The air around him twisted gently, like the world was holding its breath.

Jiraiya's eye twitched.

"...Okay, rude."

Seijuro deactivated the transformation with a bored blink. "Next."

Jiraiya scratched his head. "I have connections."

"Don't care."

"I've got money?"

"I have 400 million yen to my name..." and a couple hundred million more on the black market, but oh well.

Also, selling his jutsu to Konoha sure did bring a pretty penny. Some of them, like the variations of the Rasengan and the Chidori, were sold for quite a lot of cash. He made a bag, basically.

Jiraiya's eyes sparkled. He dug into his sleeve and pulled out a weathered book wrapped in protective cloth.

"First edition Icha Icha Paradise. Autographed. Limited print. Only thirty in circulation. Seijuro, my man—you're a man. Surely this stirs something primal inside you."

Seijuro stared at him, then slowly looked up, eyes dry as hell.

"Mikoto will not let me see the end of the day if I read that book. And I certainly do not wish for Kushina to view me as a pervert, so I will kindly refuse this gift."

Jiraiya died a little inside.

He slumped like a deflated frog balloon.

"Damn. You're worse than Minato."

Seijuro folded his arms. "I could be persuaded... if you owe me a favor. One I can call in anytime. No whining."

Jiraiya raised an eyebrow. "You're gonna ask me to punch Danzo in the throat one day, huh?"

"Not today," Seijuro said coldly. All he asked for was one favor—it's not like he would ask Jiraiya to kill Danzo or some shit. Seijuro would never...

"...Fine. You've got a deal."

And with that, Jiraiya sulked back toward whatever roof he was gonna go cry on. Seijuro bought the sake.

When he returned, Tsunade was already halfway into a bottle, cheeks flushed red, eyes glassy but very awake.

"Back already?" she slurred, legs folded beneath her. "You're such a good student. Seriously, you are. The best."

Seijuro blinked.

"...You're drunk."

"Noooo," she drawled, slapping the ground beside her. "I'm emotionally lubricated."

He sighed and sat down, passing her the second bottle.

She grabbed it like a prize, leaning against him a little.

"You're so smart. So good at everything. Bet the girls in Konoha are just—haahh—chasing you down."

He rolled his eyes. "Sensei."

"What? It's true. You're like, sharp. Handsome. Dangerous. Way better than that frog-faced pervert."

Seijuro paused.

"...You mean Jiraiya?"

She growled. "If I see that idiot peeping again, I swear to the gods, I'll rupture his lungs through his damn spine."

"So... not a fan?"

Tsunade leaned against his shoulder, eyes narrowing lazily.

"He's a pervert, sure, but not all bad. Just... Jiraiya's Jiraiya. You? You're the one who doesn't need to act cool. You just are."

Seijuro blinked, startled for half a second.

That was... kinda nice.

Then she hiccuped, face red, and reached for another drink.

And all he could think was—

What kind of sensei did I get...

She was a drunk. And a truthful drunk. This wasn't a good combo.

Oh well, he would help her. He wasn't a horny teen, so her tits bouncing around had no effect on him, really.

He'd just help her. Plus, last he checked, she wasn't a shotacon. It's not like there were alternate universes out there where she was bouncing on Nawaki's shit...

They were siblings. Though, considering the shinobi world, don't think anyone would care. Probably view it as some "keep the bloodline pure" shit.

Anyway, he was not trying to get that.

Not because she was older than him—strangely, she didn't even feel that old to him.

Even Hiruzen didn't feel that old to him, as if he had lived for much longer.

A/N He is not smashing his sensei, I do not want for my first naruto fic to be a harem, so unless when I do a vote again for next naruto story, the one in her era win, ie Gojo/sayen story win, she will be love interest, for now, she is merely his sensei....so put your dick away.

...I said put it away...