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Chapter 41 - Infuriating Detours
🕑 Added 2025-05-24 13:13:10 +0000 UTCIt shouldn’t take more than a day for a shinobi to reach the south coast from Konoha. Two or three, if you were walking with untrained civilians.
But a goddamned merchant?
Four. Maybe five days, or more.
He stopped for everything. Every backwater settlement with a roof and an outhouse. Every peasant walking down the road with a sack of grain. Every group of squealing kids just thinking about coins.
It was like traveling with a fat, sluggish mosquito. Always distracted by the next warm smudge of blood and profit. We’d stop. Again. Just for him to sell poisoned bath salts — why does it look like grave moss? — to an old widow with a goat.
I’d almost forgotten how infuriating these escort missions could be.
We had half a day to the bridge.
Still. I wasn’t about to waste time.
When the caravan parked for its third “urgent supply exchange” with a toothless man running a shack made of tarp and wet rope, I pulled Naruto and Sakura off to the side and walked them toward the tree line.
Just far enough that the merchant wouldn’t be alarmed and think we were under attack from ghosts.
I left Sai behind to keep watch over the client.
In truth, I only wanted Naruto. This... wasn’t a group lesson. But I didn’t want Sakura to feel left out.
Even if all those insolent scoffs made me reconsider. She’d been lashing out quietly. The attack seemed to have both shaken her and sharpened her spite.
Originally, I'd planned to use these inevitable pit stops productively. That's why I'd brought my jutsu scrolls with me — experimental seals and formulas I'd been neglecting.
My projects could wait, however. They had waited months already, what was it, a day or two? Teaching Naruto would take precedence today.
I stopped beneath a broad-limbed chestnut tree and turned to face him.
He squinted up at me, hands behind his head, like he was just out for a lazy walk.
"Alright," I said, crossing my arms. "We’re going to use this time to teach you the Shadow Clone Technique. For real."
Naruto blinked.
Then grinned.
Then laughed—a full chesty “ahhhaha!” like I’d just offered to teach him long division during a ramen-eating contest.
“Ehhhhh? Why, though?” he said, tilting his head so far I thought it might pop off.
What do you mean ‘why‘? I stared at him.
Naruto took that as encouragement.
“I mean, c’monnn,” he whined, already squatting and doodling lines in the dirt with a stick. “Do you know how tiring that thing is? Every time I try, poof! My chakra bar just goes bye-bye. Like ‘sayonara sucker!’” He made a dramatic throat-slitting gesture.
An Uzumaki out of chakra? Like I’d believe that.
“...You’re doing that thing again,” he muttered.
“What thing?”
“That dead-face thing. The ‘my-soul-left-my-body-because-Naruto-breathed’ thing.”
I didn’t laugh. Didn’t blink. Just watched him, the way I used to watch Naruto from a screen. When the boy would smile too wide and pretend he hadn’t just gotten kicked out of class, hadn’t just gone to sleep hungry, hadn’t just cried himself quiet the night before.
But this Naruto wasn’t that. This Naruto had parents.
By all accounts, this Naruto should have been softer. Shouldn’t have needed to wear all that noise like armor.
This boy had food. Family. And fans, the villagers loved him.
And yet—here he was.
Squatting in the forest like a bored street cat, hiding his refusal behind jokes and talking about chakra bars like it was a damn gacha game.
I should’ve known better.
It’s not just the pain that builds shinobi. It's the pressure. The attention. The need to live up to things bigger than you’ll ever be. The moment your name stops being just yours and starts becoming a legacy.
Being surrounded by others doesn’t mean you’re not alone.
I should know.
Still, things may be different, but at his core, he was still Naruto.
Maybe he didn’t want to be Hokage. Maybe he didn’t need to.
But he’s stuff of heroes.
Time to be cringe again. I withheld a sigh and stepped forward and nudged his shoulder with the flat of my knuckles. Nothing dramatic, just enough to pull his eyes back to mine.
“You act stupid,” I said dryly. “But you’re not stupid.”
He blinked.
“You’re just scared to try,” I muttered. “Because if you try and fail… then people know what you are. Until then, you get to be anything.”
Naruto stared.
I tilted my head slightly, mouth barely twitching. “And frankly, being a loud dumbass is easier.”
He made a face.
“But I know potential when I see it.” I finally smirked. Just a little. “So congratulations—no more hiding. Even if you’re annoying.”
Naruto blinked up at me, but then his eyes drifted to Sakura and widened a little.
Then the bastard had the audacity to snort.
“Pfft—you sound like Iruka-sensei after half a bottle of sake,” he said with a grin. “All this ‘I believe in you… you’re better than this… you have potential…’ crap.” He pulled himself up from the dirt and dusted off his pants. “You gonna start crying on me next, dude? Feel a single man-tear roll down that cheek? Am I supposed to hug you now?”
I said nothing. Not because I didn’t have a comeback, it was just…… I couldn’t seem to remember if I had left the stove on; that was all.
But Naruto seemed not to care about that, or my glare for that matter. In fact, not getting the riled-up expression he hoped out of me seemed to fire him up more.
“Maybe if you weren't—”
“The Shadow Clone isn’t just fancy ninjutsu. It’s forbidden jutsu.” I cut him off with a hook before he could spiral further.
Naruto looked up. Good. I didn’t even need to bring up Sasuke.
“This isn’t like poofing out a fake body to take a punch for laughs. These clones split your chakra. Even split your consciousness. Which means…” I leaned in conspiratorially. “...If a clone gets stabbed, you might feel it.”
His jaw dropped just an inch.
“It’s dangerous,” I continued, voice low. “Borderline self-destructive. That’s why it’s off-limits to genin and most chunin. One misstep? You deplete your chakra. Brain fry. Maybe worse.”
“...Worse than brain fry?” Naruto asked, horrified, but excited.
“You ever heard the story of Dango Goro?” I whispered. “The guy tried the jutsu drunk and ended up with eight minds in one body. Spent the rest of his life debating himself. Out loud. In four voices.”
Naruto’s eyes sparkled.
If cringe didn’t work, bullshit would.
I leaned back, satisfied. “But…… I mean, you probably couldn’t handle that. It’s not like you’re any good with complex chakra work or anything…”
The bait practically glowed.
With Naruto, plain instruction never worked, but challenging his limits? That hit different. Even with loving parents, he'd inherited that Uzumaki stubbornness. The trick wasn't telling him what to do; it was making him think it might be beyond his reach. Dangle something dangerous, hint it might be too advanced, and suddenly his attention was yours.
Not manipulation, just speaking the universal language of teenage rebellion. Reminded me of Anko in a way—both responded best when challenged, and crave what they're told they can't handle. Though her surrender was infinitely more satisfying than Naruto's stubborn capitulation.
Though, unlike Anko, Naruto can handle this.
Naruto flexed his hands dramatically, cracks of his knuckles echoing exaggeratedly in the quiet clearing.
“Pfft. Dangerous? Please. I bath in danger.” He grinned. “I eat danger for breakfast. I—live and breathe forbidden jutsu, dattebayo.”
I blinked. Slowly. “You can barely handle spicy ramen.”
“Exactly. Spicy ramen is dangerous.” He stuck his tongue out, then held up his hand. “But okay, go on, go on—how do I do it? I don’t have all day?”
I stepped closer and began explaining—not just the what, but the why. How the separation of chakra had to be even. How your mental image of yourself affected the physicality of the clone. How, more than anything, you had to believe it’d work.
It was less science. More faith.
“… Okay, okay—I think I got it,” he breathed, bouncing on his heels. "So it’s just—split the chakra evenly, focus the image of me being my most awesome!”
He was halfway into forming the hand seal when—
“That’s it?” Sakura hadn't said a word the whole time. She’d been standing to the side the entire lesson, posture tense, jaw tight, arms crossed tighter still. And now she was glaring, not at me, but at Naruto. But the heat was directed at me.
“This is stupid,” she said, taking a step forward. “Reckless even for you. You don’t even know how much chakra that takes. What if you can’t split it right? What if it backfires? You could knock yourself out or worse.”
Naruto opened his mouth.
She cut him off. “We are in the middle of a mission. It’s dangerous if you burn yourself out over some… show-off move just because he—” she jerked her head sharply in my direction, but didn’t look at me, “tempted you with a fairy tale about forbidden jutsu.”
“Tch.” Naruto grinned. “Come on, Sakura-chan. I’m not that dumb.”
She glared harder.
“I know he’s weird,” Naruto added, grinning over his shoulder. “Total super pervert we picked up outta nowhere, but he is a jōnin. That counts for something.”
I raised a brow. “I’m standing right here.”
“Yeah, but you’re a pervert standing right here. It’s different.”
“Super pervert,” I corrected, folding my arms, no need to fight it anymore. “Get my title right.”
Sakura tried not to groan so loudly the trees winced. “You can’t just follow what—” She stopped her words. Words that could be interpreted as insubordination.
Oh, and here I was beginning to think she had no more teeth.
Sakura wasn’t questioning my authority. Everything about her tone was diplomatic—a subtle positioning. Not ‘don’t do it because he’s your superior,’ but ‘don’t do it because you know it’s nuts.’ Even though she nearly crossed a line.
Naruto just smiled at her, softly this time. Not cocky or smirky. Just… warm.
“I got this,” he said simply. “I’ll be careful. Promise.”
For a second, Sakura’s fury cracked as she glared at me before looking away.
“Okay, Super Pervert-sensei,” Naruto said with all the gleeful disrespect of someone who intended to learn the high-level jutsu and make up 37 embarrassing nicknames before lunch. “Let’s do it!”
Naruto’s chakra flared, and just as his fingers met, he gave me a look.
Not ‘I’m ready for the Shadow Clone’ kind of look.
No. This was a fox-grinned, shit-eating, little-devil curve of the mouth. Mischievous energy licked around him like static right before a storm.
“Wait a se—”
"Sexy Jutsu!"
Puff.
Smoke burst outward. I squinted, instinctively taking a step back. The plume coiled, twisted, then thinned.
Shapes formed.
Curves.
Legs.
Hair.
And when the haze began to clear—
“Tadaa~!” A sweet, singsong voice rang through the mist. “Naruko-chan’s here~ Any strong shinobi to have some fun~“
Standing where Naruto had been—
A bombshell.
Twin golden tails of silky hair spilled down over her back and shoulders, the ends bouncing with anime-perfect volume. Her face was soft and absurdly pretty—almond-shaped cerulean eyes flirted beneath thick lashes; her button nose curled in a playful scrunch. Three delicate lines on each cheek that should have looked childish but somehow made her more exotic. They framed her face like feral tattoos, accentuating her cheekbones when she smiled.
Full lips glistened, pink and plush with just the right parting like she was mid-moan or mid-secret.
Every feature was purposefully sculpted for seduction, a knockout pin-up fantasy.
My mouth went dry.
The fog skimmed over her. Just thick enough to artfully hide what needed hiding. The bouncing shape of full breasts and the dangerous curve of her naked hips. But it didn’t conceal the valleys between, those tantalizing hints of shadows—was there a nipple in there? It was impossible to tell—just a blur of smoke and the faintest jiggle when she breathed.
Her midriff was toned, deceptively athletic, smooth lines tracing from her navel down into that unseen abyss the fog refused to part for. Her thighs were thick, smooth, and biteable, ending in delicate bare feet, cute toes curled like she was just barely rising onto them with anticipation, ready to pounce or pose.
I highly, highly disliked how aware I was of all that.
“Whaaat’s wrong, Sensei~?” Naruko purred, leaning forward with her arms behind her back in a deceptively innocent posture that only lifted her tits into view—barely concealed by a merciful swirl of fog that seemed to know exactly where to hover. "Cat got your tongue?"
She tilted her head, twirling a golden strand of hair while pivoting slightly, the movement causing a subtle flex of her calves, well defined and smooth like they'd been sculpted from warm honey. "Or is it stuck somewhere else?"
I noticed my mouth was hanging open stupidly for too long; I snapped it shut. Too late.
Her smirk — his, his — widened.
From the edge of the clearing, I heard Sakura’s teeth grind together so loudly it was like kunai scraping bone. A fist will be flying soon, I just need to endure.
I couldn’t act fazed. That would feed him.
Acts of defiance only gave him fuel. You had to ice him out.
This was just a jutsu. I told myself and hoped the blood would cease traveling downward. Just Naruto’s idiotic pervert brain doing pervert things.
She took a step forward, the fog shifting just enough to reveal a flash of thigh as she moved—the kind of thigh that could crush watermelons but looked soft enough to sink fingers into. When she noticed my gaze drop, she smirked and traced a finger slowly down her leg, circling her ankle before rising onto her toes again in a ballet-like pose.
"Ohhh, that's right~," Naruko said, bringing a finger to her plush lips and biting the tip playfully before leaning forward with arms pressed together to create a valley of cleavage that the fog barely concealed. Her eyes narrowed knowingly. "You weren't drooling like this when you looked at my mom~ Should I be flattered?"
A traitor twitch had sparked just below my belt, but—
The gritting of teeth suddenly stopped.
I didn't need to look at Sakura to know what had happened. I kept my face neutral, but inwardly, I was already calculating my funeral arrangements.
She may just had connected dots I really needed to remain unconnected and I would probably, most likely, die for it.
Fuck.
