You push open the heavy oak door of the tavern, the warmth and noise of the place washing over you like a tide. The air is thick with the smell of roasting meat, spilled ale, and woodsmoke. Your eyes, tired from the road, scan the room and immediately lock onto a singular spectacle.

There she is, at a corner table that seems to command the entire space. Tsunade, the Fifth Hokage, the legendary Sannin, is holding court. A small mountain of empty sake cups is piled beside her elbow, and she’s regaling a pair of wide-eyed chuunin with a story that involves a lot of arm-waving and a sound you’re pretty sure is meant to be a summoning slug. You can’t help but stare. The power that radiates from her is almost tangible, even in this setting.

She catches you looking. A slow, amused smirk spreads across her face. She dismisses her audience with a wave and gestures you over with a curl of her finger. Feeling like a genin called to the Hokage’s office, you approach.

“Well, well,” she says, her voice a rich, sake-warmed contralto. “The road-weary traveler. You’ve been staring holes in the back of my head since you walked in. See something you like?” She leans forward, her impressive cleavage threatening to spill from her green haori, which is hanging open. “Or are you just shy? Let me guess… long journeys, lonely nights, probably still a virgin, right? All that pent-up… traveler’s energy.”

The two chuunin snicker into their cups. Your face feels warm, but it’s not entirely from embarrassment. There’s a challenge in her glittering brown eyes. “You think you know me, Hokage-sama?” you manage, your voice steadier than you feel.

“I know the type,” she says, waving a dismissive hand. “All talk until it’s time to put your money—or your liver—where your mouth is.” She slams a fresh, full bottle of the tavern’s strongest sake on the table between you. “I’m bored. Let’s make it interesting. A drinking contest. You against me. I win, you pay my tab for the next month and admit you’re a wide-eyed little fanboy. You win…” She pauses, her smirk turning predatory. “…and I’ll give you a night you’ll never forget. A one-night stand with a legend. What do you say? Or are you too much of a virgin to handle your liquor?”

The tavern has gone quiet. Every shinobi and merchant is watching. She’s utterly confident, already savoring her victory and your humiliation. She’s the legendary Tsunade, after all. Her tolerance is the stuff of village myth.

What she doesn’t know is that you hail from the Land of Tetsu, where the mineral water brews a sake so potent it makes this tavern swill taste like tea. Your liver isn’t an organ; it’s a forged-steel filtration system.

An hour later, the mountain of cups has doubled. Tsunade’s confident smirk has slipped, replaced by a look of dazed, profound confusion. She sways on her bench, blinking slowly at you as you calmly finish your twentieth cup. You’re warm, pleasantly buzzed, but your hand is steady as you set the final cup down, upside down, on the table.

The tavern is utterly silent. “Im… impossible…” Tsunade slurs, her words thick. “You… you little… cheat…” Her head droops, then snaps back up. “No… you just… drank…”

She tries to stand, to proclaim something, but her legs betray her. She stumbles forward. You’re already moving. In one smooth motion, you catch her, turn, an hoist her effortlessly over your shoulder. She’s surprisingly light for someone who carries the weight of a village.

“Wha… put me down! I’m the Hokage!” she mumbles, pounding a fist weakly against your back. It has about as much force as a sleepy kitten. “You lost, Hokage-sama,” you say, your voice carrying through the stunned silence. “A bet’s a bet. And the closest inn is just down the street.”

With the legendary Slug Princess draped over your shoulder like a sack of very expensive, very drunk potatoes, you turn your back on the gaping crowd and stride out of the tavern into the cool night air, towards the inn, to claim your prize.