Several hours later…
"Hokage-sama! There's a pressing report from the ANBU guards!"
Shizune burst into the office, her breath uneven and cheeks flushed. Tsunade raised an eyebrow.
She had seen Shizune anxious before—usually when it came to her gambling losses or when she tried (and failed) to hide her disapproval of her drinking problem in the past—but this… this was different.
Tsunade's eyes narrowed. "What is it now?"
Without a word, Shizune handed her a sealed scroll. Tsunade unrolled it with practiced ease. Her golden eyes scanned the contents—and then paused as she reached the attached image.
It was a rough sketch, hastily drawn, but detailed enough. A tall, striking man with a cocky smile and an unfamiliar presence. Below the image was the name: Donald Taylor.
Tsunade blinked.
"Donald Taylor?" she repeated aloud. "Never heard of him."
Neither the name nor the face rang any bells—not from any hidden village, rogue group, or known clans. Yet something about him... the ANBU report hinted at unnatural calm under pressure, physical prowess, and a strangely confident request.
A civilian—requesting to be the Hokage's personal bodyguard.
Tsunade snorted. "Bold."
She set the scroll down and stood up, stretching her arms with a faint sigh. "Let's go, Shizune. I want to meet this stranger from beyond the seas myself."
"Yes!" Shizune said a little too quickly, straightening like a nervous cadet. Tsunade gave her a side glance.
"So… you've seen him already?" she asked casually as they made their way to the door.
Shizune hesitated, fiddling with her sleeves. "He's… he's…"
Tsunade paused mid-step, then turned with a teasing smile. "He's your type, isn't he?"
Shizune's face turned a deeper shade of red. "W-What?! No! I— That's not it!"
Tsunade chuckled. "Come on, Shizune. You're over thirty now. Maybe it's time for you to finally have a romantic distraction before you turn into an old hag like me."
"Hokage-sama! Please—this is serious!" Shizune pleaded, clearly flustered. "It's not just that. There's something… I don't know. I can't explain it."
Tsunade's teasing faded, replaced by a more thoughtful expression. "Something you can't explain, huh?"
She nodded. "Alright. Settle down. I'll judge the man for myself."
Ten minutes later, standing just inside the reception hall where the stranger waited, Tsunade saw him.
And froze.
The man turned with a casual grace, his presence magnetic. His eyes locked onto hers, calm yet piercing, and that same disarming smile curved his lips.
In that instant, Tsunade felt something she hadn't in years—an odd jolt in her chest, a subtle but undeniable flutter. Not from attraction alone… but from something deeper.
A pressure in the air. A strange weight, like the calm before a storm.
"…So, this is Donald Taylor," she murmured, stunned.
She understood now why Shizune had been at a loss for words.
This man wasn't ordinary. He couldn't be.
He stood tall—taller even than the Fourth Raikage. At a glance, he looked to be at least seven feet, with a body carved from solid muscle. His presence was overwhelming.
Broad shoulders, a powerful chest, and arms thick with strength—his physique alone was enough to draw gasps. And yet, it wasn't just his size that drew attention.
His simple black robes clung to him in all the right places, doing little to conceal the formidable power underneath. He wore no armor, no flashy symbols, nothing to signify rank or allegiance. Just black.
Clean. Unassuming. And yet, he radiated something deeper—something ancient and commanding.
Tsunade's sharp eyes narrowed as they scanned him from head to toe. His face was dangerously handsome. Strong jawline, high cheekbones, and lips that curved with an effortless confidence.
It wasn't the artificial beauty of illusion or youth—it was natural, refined, almost ethereal. She couldn't help but admit it: this man was easily the most handsome she had ever seen.
But it was his eyes that unsettled her the most.
They were clear and penetrating, like they could reach inside her mind and pull out every secret she ever tried to bury. Calm yet intense, like the eye of a storm.
Looking into them, she felt vulnerable in a way that no amount of power or experience could shield her from.
Everything about Donald Taylor felt impossible.
Unreal.
Like a character born from fantasy or myth, molded into perfection and brought to life.
Tsunade forced herself to shake free from the illusion. She clenched her fists. No, she reminded herself. This isn't some fairy tale. She'd lived too long, seen too much. Life had taught her the harshest truths.
If something—or someone—seemed too good to be true, then it probably was.
Her eyes hardened.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice low but laced with tension. Her tone sharpened with restrained anger, and though she knew it wasn't entirely rational, the feeling surged through her like a bitter tide.
Something about Donald ignited memories she had worked so hard to suppress. He looked nothing like Dan, and yet, something in the way he smiled—so calm, so sure—dragged her back to that painful place.
"Pleased to finally meet you, Hokage-sama," Donald said, his voice deep and smooth. "I've long looked forward to this day. It's my h—"
He paused, his gaze settling on her face with a flash of amusement. In that brief moment, his thoughts drifted.
She was even more breathtaking in person than she had been on screen. The anime didn't do her justice. Her hair, her poise, the authority she carried—it was all so much more striking in real life.
And yes, her chest was nothing short of legendary. Peak-tier, he mused to himself, almost in awe.
He would've liked to admire her a little longer, maybe say something clever or flattering.
But Tsunade wasn't one to stand around for idle pleasantries.
Bang!
She vanished from her spot in a blur of motion, and before most even realized what was happening, she reappeared directly in front of him.
Her fist, encased in chakra-enhanced force, rocketed toward his face with the full weight of her fury behind it.
The impact echoed through the hall like a thunderclap.
Gasps erupted from every corner. Anbu guards tensed. Shizune covered her mouth in shock.
But then something happened—something no one expected.
The punch never landed.
Donald raised a single hand and—casually, almost lazily—caught the blow.
With one finger.
Silence fell like a blanket over the entire room.
No one moved.
No one breathed.
Tsunade stared, disbelieving. Her arm trembled from the force she had put into the strike—but it was as if she had hit a mountain. Unmovable. Unshaken.
"This… is this even possible?" one of the shinobi murmured, unable to process what he had just seen.
He had blocked the Hokage's full-powered punch with a single finger.
One.
Fucking.
Finger.
Donald didn't even flinch. He stood there, calm and collected, eyes still glimmering with that same amused light.
"I mean no harm," he said softly, as if nothing extraordinary had just occurred. "But I suppose I should have expected that."
Tsunade's heart pounded. She didn't know who this man really was, but one thing was clear—Donald Taylor was no ordinary visitor.
He was something else entirely.
"…"
Tsunade narrowed her eyes, lips tightening into a thin line.
She had gone over the report that Shizune gave her earlier.
At first, she thought it was exaggerated—jonin were known to dramatize when embarrassed—but now, seeing the man in front of her, she began to believe every word.
Donald had sparred with several of the village's best jonin. Veterans of war, men and women seasoned in life-and-death combat. And yet not a single one had managed to touch him. Not once.
Not even his flowing black robes had been grazed.
He moved like the wind—appearing and disappearing between heartbeats.
One moment he was in front of his opponent, the next he was behind them, calm and untouched, as if the world itself bent to let him pass.
But what truly confounded them all was the absence of chakra.
There was no detectable flow. No fluctuations. No signature. To any sensor-type or even skilled fighter, Donald might as well have been an ordinary civilian.
But reality disagreed.
Brutally.
He was a fighter of frightening ability—graceful, composed, and efficient. He didn't waste movement. He didn't boast. And above all, he didn't even seem to be trying.
He had blocked her earlier punch with a single finger. One.
Now Tsunade stood with her chakra surging, heart pounding—not from exertion, but from anticipation.
There was something deeply unsettling about Donald Taylor. He seemed like a phantom carved into flesh. Handsome beyond reason. Calm beyond belief. Dangerous beyond comprehension.
She did not back away and just stayed close.
"Nice," she said, her voice low and measured. "Then try blocking this one, too."
Without warning, she struck again.
This time, she didn't hold back. Her muscles flexed with full power, veins pulsing with chakra.
This wasn't just a strike—it was a blow that had split mountains in the past, shattered giants, and leveled battlefields. She merely used 40 percent of her strength before but now… now was the real deal.
100 percent of her power!
BOOM!
The air exploded with force. Dust surged outward like a wave, blanketing the room. The walls shook. Papers scattered. Several shinobi instinctively raised their arms to shield themselves.
When the dust finally settled… what they saw left the entire room paralyzed.
Donald stood unmoved.
His hands were up—both index fingers extended.
He had blocked her punch again. Not with a stance. Not with bracing.
Just two fingers. Effortlessly.
It was an image no one in the room would forget.
"What…?!" a voice croaked.
"Is this… is this a genjutsu?" another whispered, uncertain.
"No," muttered Shizune, her hand trembling at her side. "This is real…"
Tsunade took a step back, eyes narrowing again, though this time with more caution than aggression.
Her heart thudded, not from fear, but from a cold realization. She wasn't facing a normal man. She wasn't even sure she was facing a man at all.
She studied his face.
Donald remained relaxed. No sweat. No tension. Just that same unreadable expression—and those eyes that seemed to see everything. His smile was subtle. Not arrogant. Not mocking. Just… patient.
"Who are you really?" she asked in her mind.
If he were an enemy, he could have destroyed half the village by now. If he were a spy, there were easier ways to infiltrate. If he wanted power, he could challenge a Kage in open combat.
And win.
Stronger than a Kage, she reminded herself. That thought chilled her far more than any enemy ever had.
"What do you truly hope to gain by becoming my guard, Donald?" she asked aloud, voice steady but laced with tension.
Donald lowered his hands and took a single step forward.
"I told you," he said, his voice calm and sincere. "I admire your cause. You're holding this village together with your own strength and will. You've built something worth preserving. I want to be a part of that. I want to protect what you protect."
He paused. His gaze softened just slightly.
"I want to be someone you can rely on. Someone you can trust."
Then, with perfect composure, he smiled.
"So… what are your orders, Hokage-sama?"
That final line hung in the air like a spell. His tone wasn't one of subservience. It wasn't playful, either. It was genuine. Like a knight pledging loyalty to a queen.
Around them, silence reigned. But the tension had changed. The fear had shifted into something else entirely.
Admiration.
Awe.
And, from some of the kunoichi present… desire.
Several female shinobi stole glances at him, cheeks flushed, lips slightly parted. Their breath caught as they realized he hadn't even drawn a weapon. He didn't need to.
His presence alone was a force of nature.
Tsunade noticed it too. She could hear their heartbeats rising. Even Shizune's expression had softened.
Tsunade clenched her fists.
Damn him, she thought. He knows exactly what he's doing.
She turned away briefly, composing herself. Then, slowly, she exhaled and turned back.
"Alright then," she said. "If you truly mean what you say… then I'll put you to the test."
Her voice was sharp again, carrying the authority of a Kage.
"You'll be assigned to me as my personal guard, starting today. But know this—if you ever betray this village, no matter how strong you are, I will not hesitate."
Donald nodded, that same calm smile lingering.
"I wouldn't expect anything less, Hokage-sama." He smiled some more as he knew that he finally had his entry unto the heart of his first woman on this Naruto world.