[Mad Tiger] Chapter 48

Winter passed unusually fast. A month and a half since “Mission: Impossible” flew by in a blur of snow, rain, blooming plum trees, and other seasonal shifts. Surveillance on Sauron’s Lair—otherwise known as the Hokage’s residence—confirmed that Konohamaru never fessed up about misplacing Grandpa’s all-seeing crystal ball. The kid kept his mouth shut tighter than a captured spy, wrapping himself in that blue scarf like it was some kind of secret-keeping talisman.

The old man didn’t try to replace the artifact either, meaning that what was lost was truly lost. And when two exceptional felines—yours truly and Sumi-chan—helped make sure of it, that meant it was buried deeper than any ANBU retrieval squad could ever hope to find.

Graduation loomed closer, but there was still no word from Shisui or Kushina-san. The only update came through Shijimi, who slipped me some quality snacks and passed along a message that Kushina was alive, well, and still searching. That was the extent of it. At this point, I wasn’t sure if no news was good news or just a reminder of how damn slow everything moved in this world. The shinobi system was fast when it came to stabbing people in the back but agonizingly sluggish when you needed something useful done.

Despite that, my boys were thriving. They had real friends now, a stable routine, and a semblance of normalcy that had been completely absent when I first arrived. Hell, Sasuke had even moved part of his stuff into Naruto’s apartment, making it official that they were, in fact, attached at the hip. Meanwhile, I made an important discovery of my own—canned cat food. This world had its fair share of downsides, but that? That was a culinary masterpiece.

With graduation creeping closer, I was more than a little curious to see how the big "Naruto is a Jinchuriki" reveal would play out. Would they stick to the old "Good Teacher, Bad Teacher" routine from the anime? Would Mizuki—the conveniently white-haired, last-minute replacement for Sarutobi Asuma—turn out to be a traitorous rogue ninja just as he had in canon?

The timing of Asuma’s "sudden illness" was suspicious enough, but his reassignment to the Academy last year? That was the real kicker. It had been the final push that made me go full covert ops and pull off the Great Eye of Sauron Heist. Wouldn’t have had to, if these people weren’t so damn shady. But as the saying goes, live by the scheme, die by the scheme. And if things really played out like the anime, then someday soon, Orochimaru was going to come waltzing in and skewer the old Hokage like a pig on a spit. When that day came, I might just send the snake a thank-you note. Maybe even a gift basket.

If only I knew exactly when it would happen. In the anime, the plot jumped from one major event to another with convenient time skips, but real life didn’t work that way. So far, no one had even mentioned the Chunin Exams, and it was already March 3rd. Instead, Iruka and Mizuki were focused on building up the finals as some terrifying, life-altering trial. They were laying the groundwork for something, and today, Iruka’s behavior confirmed it. 

He kept glancing at Naruto, visibly anxious, like he was working up the nerve to do something he really didn’t want to. Two days ago, I had spotted him leaving the Hokage’s office—not from his usual bureaucratic duty station but from the main entrance. The one reserved for people personally summoned by the old man himself.

Maybe he had gone in to ask for a raise? Yeah, and maybe I was a goldfish. 

No, my instincts were screaming that this was The Big Moment. 

The "Naruto, you’re actually a walking, talking WMD" conversation. 

And that whole "village-wide panic at the stolen scroll" thing? I was starting to think it had never really been about Naruto stealing anything at all. More likely, the higher-ups were expecting some kind of beast-mode meltdown and had an entire rapid-response team ready to shove Kurama back in his cage if things went south. Even worse, I had a sinking feeling this wasn’t just about control—it was about conditioning.

And Iruka? He was the perfect tool for the job.

The Hokage was too busy running the village to personally babysit Naruto, and it wasn’t like he was about to risk his own flesh and blood in this little chess game. Besides, from what I’ve gathered during my nightly stakeouts, there’s a lot more political maneuvering going on here than it seems.

Asuma is already set to be the jonin instructor for the next generation of clan heirs—Ino, Shikamaru, and Choji. Their clans are powerful, well-established, and hold serious influence on the village council. Pairing them with Asuma is basically a way to tie the Sarutobi family even closer to them.

And here, the relationship between students and teachers is something else entirely. A jonin leading the team isn’t just a mentor; they’re practically a second parent—sometimes even more than that. They have more authority over their students than actual responsibilities.

Then there’s the second "clan heir" team—Hyuga Hinata, Aburame Shino, and Inuzuka Kiba—each from the main branch of their respective clans.

And guess who’s getting assigned to them?

Asuma’s future wife.

…Wait.

Does Kurenai even know she’s Asuma’s fiancee?

Because I’m not entirely sure she got the memo.

Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Asuma conveniently "fell ill" just to buy himself some time to lock down that red-eyed beauty. The Sarutobi family clearly has a talent for playing the long game.

And from what I’ve picked up, Kurenai’s appointment as a jonin instructor wasn’t exactly straightforward either.

She already had a student before—but something happened. Either that girl got in the way, or… something else went down.

One way or another, the Third Hokage made sure Kurenai dropped her previous student so she could take over this batch of graduates.

I vaguely remember something like this from the anime—some girl who nearly killed Kurenai and Naruto during a mission. But the details are fuzzy.

I only recalled it after overhearing a conversation.

So yeah.

When it comes to carefully easing Naruto into the "congratulations, you're a village-certified Kaiju" reality, Iruka is the perfect guy.

And he’s clearly 100% loyal to the whole "for the good of the village" cause.

Everything about this screamed setup. This wasn’t just about dropping a truth bomb on Naruto; this was about making sure he had only one adult he could trust afterward. The Sandaime wasn’t just ensuring Naruto stayed loyal—he was making damn sure Naruto's trust was curated.

The thing was, my Naruto wasn’t the same lonely, desperate orphan anymore. He wasn’t the kid pulling dumb pranks to get attention, and he wasn’t falling into obvious traps. Hell, just recently a couple of “men in black” had even set up the perfect bait for him—buckets of paint, left conveniently outside the Academy, just begging to be used for a little monument vandalism. In another timeline, Naruto would’ve fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. This time?

He poked the paint. Sniffed it. Shook his head. And walked away to practice throwing shuriken instead.

Better yet, Sasuke had checked the paint afterward and declared it useless for any of our fashion projects. A clean dodge.

After "Fashion Week in Konoha," the craze for Paw-Style spread like wildfire. Kids from Class A, the parallel classes, and even the younger students started showing up to the Academy covered in paw prints. The only problem? Their versions were clearly fake—painted on with regular dye that washed out in just a couple of days. The real deal, the secret ninja technique of chakra-infused prints, was known only to Naruto, Sasuke, and their friends. 

It wasn’t long before a few girls started offering Naruto money to customize their clothes. Naturally, we had a meeting, and after much deliberation, I graciously approved the expansion of our high-fashion enterprise. A noble cause—promoting style among the future shinobi of Konoha. Also, the cash was good, and let’s not forget the glorious canned cat food.

With our hands full making couture ninja wear, Naruto avoided the obvious prank bait left by the Academy staff. The "Gotcha, you troublemaker!" plan flopped, and instead of getting him into trouble, the conveniently placed paint ended up being used for an actual Academy facelift. The result? Surprisingly decorative. Someone—definitely not us, nope—even snuck back later and added massive paw prints to the walls and rooftops, something that looked like a full-grown tiger had stomped across the campus. But while the rest of the kids were busy leaving their mark on the Academy, Naruto and I were busy raking in money. The entire 6-B Class decided to revamp their wardrobes, and as a side effect, Naruto ended up retraining his chakra control. Now that’s what I call motivation.

At the end of the lesson, Iruka clapped his hands for attention. "Class dismissed." Then, his gaze zeroed in on Naruto like a hawk sighting its prey. "Uzumaki Naruto, stay behind."

Our squad exchanged glances, clearly suspicious. Sasuke and the others filed out last, reluctantly leaving Naruto alone with his teacher. I remained perched on the windowsill, ears twitching. Alright, Stierlitz(1), time for your interrogation. Let’s see how they try to brainwash you.

"Follow me," Iruka ordered, and without another word, he walked out.

Down below, I spotted Sasuke and the rest of the gang lingering near the Academy, pretending to be deep in conversation. If I wasn’t mistaken, Hinata was trying to use her Byakugan—or at least, she had been. She lasted all of two minutes before running out of chakra. Not bad, but Academy students aren’t built for this level of espionage. And considering this was Konoha, there were probably sensory barriers in place to keep anyone from peeking into classified business.

Ten minutes later, Naruto’s voice echoed across the Academy grounds, loud enough to make a few birds scatter. "Why do I have to clean this up?!"

I knew something was up. Sasuke and the others tensed, pointing toward the rooftop. I shot off like a shadow, sprinting up one of the fire escapes and hiding behind the conveniently placed bushes on the roof. Sure enough, there was my blond chick, standing next to a bucket of water and holding a rag with all the enthusiasm of a death row inmate scrubbing the floors before his execution.

"You made the mess, you clean it up," Iruka replied, arms crossed. "You were the first one to wear those paw prints, and now they’re all over the Academy walls. Your love for animals is admirable, but there are limits."

Naruto opened his mouth to argue, then shut it, shoulders slumping with a sigh. Aha. That’s the power of a teacher’s authority. Guilty or not, he wasn’t about to argue with his sensei.

"Alright, enough sulking," Iruka said, suddenly switching to his kind teacher persona. He reached out and ruffled Naruto’s messy hair. "Tell you what—if you clean this up, I’ll take you to Ichiraku Ramen. You can eat as much as you want."

Naruto froze. Then squinted at him suspiciously. "As much as I want?"

Oh, this poor fool. He had no idea how deep of a hole he just dug himself.

"Yeah," Iruka grinned, probably thinking he was being generous. "Even twenty bowls, if you can stomach it."

Naruto’s entire expression did a 180-degree turn into full-blown mischief. "Alright, fine! I’ll clean it up! But you better not be lying about the ramen, Iruka-sensei!"

"I’ll be back in an hour," Iruka promised with a satisfied nod.

As he walked past me, I could feel the smug satisfaction radiating off him. Aha. So that’s the plan? Buy the kid’s trust with a couple of bowls of noodles?

Let’s see how that works out for you.

The Big Game—a.k.a. "The Canon Events"—had officially begun.

(1) Stierlitz is the main character of the Soviet spy novel series Seventeen Moments of Spring (Семнадцать мгновений весны) by Yulian Semyonov, as well as the 1973 Soviet TV adaptation of the same name. His real name is Maxim Isaev, but he operates under the alias Standartenführer Otto von Stierlitz while working as a Soviet spy embedded deep within Nazi Germany during World War II.

He is basically a Soviet James Bond.