[Mad Tiger] Chapter 43

Man, watching Kiba's brain short-circuit was so satisfying. Two points to me, if we’re counting, including our dramatic first encounter when I arrived in Konoha. That was, what, just over six months ago? Feels like a lifetime.

“Hey, Akamaru, why’re you still so tiny?” I asked the little fluffball, generously sharing the meat I swiped.

Sixty-forty split—pretty generous, if you ask me. Especially considering the flea-ridden runt spent the last ten minutes yowling and spinning in circles outside Ichiraku Ramen like it was his life’s calling. Meanwhile, I used the opportunity to practice chakra control with my claws, slicing my portion into neat, bite-sized pieces. Classy, right?

I waited until the three boys got their bowls of ramen—complete with that heavenly pressed pork—before starting my own operation: “Swiper is swiping.” By the way, props to Teuchi-san for being prepared. Maybe our past “adventures” taught him to always keep a secret stash. Smart man.

And credit where it’s due, he didn’t show any aggression toward Naruto. Polite, even. Though I couldn’t help but notice something off about him. There was chakra there—hidden, subtle, and well-masked. If not for his lack of malice toward my little blond chick, I might not have caught it at all. Maybe my old suspicions about this place being a front for some ANBU operations weren’t so far off. Either way, the pork’s still the best in the village. Sorry, Tonton.

“What do you mean ‘tiny’?!” Akamaru barked indignantly a full two minutes after I’d asked, nearly giving away our hideout in the bushes.

I swallowed my last piece of meat and shot him a slow, judgmental look.

“Since our first meeting, I’ve grown a bit, put on a few pounds, and I’m almost an adult now. I’m a year and a half old. What’s your excuse? Why aren’t you growing?”

“Uh…” Akamaru looked genuinely stumped. “How do I even know how old I am? But I am growing! Kiba takes me somewhere, they measure me, and he says I’m getting big.”

“By all the feline gods, I miss your dad,” I groaned dramatically. “When is Kuromaru coming back from his mission?”

“Next week,” Akamaru offered, as if that could ease my despair.

I swear, these nin-dogs must trade brain development for growth spurts. Or maybe they stay small because they’re busy growing a brain first? In the anime, Akamaru seemed way sharper. Then again, that timeline is still five months away, and visually, he doesn’t change much between now and then. Maybe chakra plays a role in developing their intelligence first and their bodies later. Shisui once said chakra is about consciously directing energy within yourself. Makes sense. You’d need self-awareness first to even start directing it. Either way, I’ve got some questions for Kuromaru when he gets back.

Meanwhile, the boys finished their ramen, and Kiba called Akamaru over with some kind of bone that looked suspiciously like it was made of compressed sawdust. The pup waddled over, gave a contented belch, and then proudly brought the bone to me.

“Uh, no thanks,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “Eat it yourself. Especially since it’s been on the dusty ground.”

Even I have standards. I’ll put up with a lot as a shinobi’s cat, but eating slobbered-on junk covered in dirt? Absolutely not. Akamaru whined pitifully, even pulling the classic “guilt-trip dog move,” covering his face with his paws. It made Naruto burst out laughing.

“Look, Sasuke! Akamaru-chan’s bowing to Namaiki-chan, and Namaiki’s just turning up his nose!” Naruto grinned.

“Surprising you hang out with someone like Naruto, Uchiha,” Kiba suddenly said, his tone sharper. Oh, now I see. Guess he’s still salty about me brushing off his precious pup, or maybe the ramen hit him too hard.

Both my boys froze. Naruto opened his mouth, but Sasuke cut him off with a sharp gesture.

“What makes you think Naruto’s a loser?” Sasuke asked quietly, his tone so icy it sent shivers down my tail. If looks could kill…

“Uh… well, he’s bad at school, and today his jutsu was the worst in class,” Kiba mumbled, realizing too late he’d stepped on a landmine.

“By the end of the week, Naruto will have that jutsu perfected, better than anyone,” Sasuke growled, his voice so low it was practically a threat.

Even I was expecting his Sharingan to activate any second now.

“Wanna bet?” Kiba asked, eyes darting to a very quiet Naruto. To his credit, my chick didn’t lash out or yell—good boy.

“If Naruto wins, you’re bringing me and Sasuke lunch every day for a month!” Naruto countered, the gears in his head finally turning. My influence is clearly rubbing off. Proud moment.

“And if you lose?” Kiba grinned, trying to regain his footing. “I get your cat.”

Akamaru let out the saddest little whimper, clearly mortified by his human’s stupidity.

Oh, sweet summer child. Me? Your prize? As if. I stalked over to a nearby tree, extended my claws, and slowly dragged them down the bark, letting my chakra carve deep gouges. The sheer audacity. Both Kiba and Akamaru stared, eyes wide as dinner plates. The pup yipped something at Kiba, probably warning him that messing with me was a terrible idea.

Sasuke and Naruto exchanged glances and smirked in perfect unison. Kiba finally looked like he realized he’d just made a huge mistake.

Aaah, life is good again.

In hindsight, Kiba did us all a favor. The bet lit a fire under Naruto, and Sasuke practically moved in with us for the week, training him nonstop. By the end of it, they were closer than ever. The entire class knew about the bet, but somehow, the adults stayed blissfully unaware. Kids are sharper than you think.

Even Ruri, the class tattletale, kept quiet. Since she had a crush on Sasuke, she extended some begrudging goodwill toward Naruto too. The constant whispers about avoiding Naruto? They all but stopped.

The best part? I finally put an end to that orange monstrosity of a jumpsuit. Let’s just say… accidents happen. Unfortunately, that thing was ridiculously tough and stain-resistant. It might’ve been invincible if it weren’t so offensively orange.

Ah, but even in the direst of situations, a clever cat will always find a way! Nyaa-ha-ha!

Yesterday, Naruto, in his infinite curiosity, decided to "try copying" an explosive tag seal. Turns out, for fuinjutsu, you need special chakra-reactive ink—durable, responsive, and able to hold elemental chakra when the seal gets charged. Lucky for him, we found some in the Uchiha District, and that's what sparked his sudden obsession with seals.

Unlucky for him, he left those precious inks in a spot easily accessible to yours truly.

I worked hard. Oh, the effort I put in! Dipping my paws in the ink, I spent the entire night practicing my artistic walking technique all over that offensively orange jumpsuit he dared to call "shinobi gear." Carefully, I infused each paw print with chakra for a delightful, permanent effect. Once I finished one side, I flipped it over and did the front. By the time I was done, I was exhausted. Out of chakra. Out of energy. A true artist suffering for their craft.

As dawn broke, Sasuke—who had crashed with us again—caught me mid-pawprint. He snorted, grabbed a glass of water, and sat down to inspect my masterpiece.

"Nice work, Namaiki-chan," he muttered, scratching behind my ears. "I didn’t like that color either." He traced a finger over one of my carefully placed paw prints and smirked. "You finished?"

I nodded, chest puffed out with pride.

"Alright, let’s go wash your paws," he said, scooping me up.

Fifteen minutes later, after I’d dutifully played the role of a raccoon, Sasuke scrubbed my paws with a brush, dried me off, and tossed me back on the bed to nap.

Our morning kicked off with an ear-splitting scream from Naruto.

"AAAAHHHH! MY COSTUME! NAMAIKI-CHAN!"

Ah yes, the screams of recognition. Sasuke, hiding me under the blanket, stifled a chuckle as Naruto’s panicked stomping echoed around the room.

"LOOK AT IT! WHAT HAPPENED TO MY COSTUME?! IT WON’T WASH OUT!" Naruto wailed, holding up the once-blinding jumpsuit now adorned with my artful pawprints. For a moment, I thought his hair might channel Kushina-san’s and start floating with rage. No demonic chakra, though—looks like Kurama was still too traumatized from being yanked out of Kushina and sealed into Naruto.

"Calm down," Sasuke said evenly, shutting down the chaos with one sentence. "It looks better now, and it’s less noticeable. We’re shinobi, remember? You used to be visible from a mile away in that thing. Now you won’t stand out like the sun. Ever seen another shinobi wear something like that?"

Naruto paused, thinking it over. "Well… yeah, I guess not. Since I started washing it, the ink kinda spread and stained the fabric, so now it’s this rust-brown color with… uh, black paw prints from Namaiki-chan."

"Exactly," Sasuke said, nodding with the authority of someone who knew exactly how to play his friend. "Remember Ryu, the village where the ninja cats live? Everything there—clothes, curtains, furniture—had paw prints. Must be a fashion statement for cats. Namaiki-chan just wanted to make you the most stylish ninja in the village."

I couldn’t stay hidden any longer. I wiggled out from under the blanket and stood tall. "Exactly!" I declared, as regal as possible.

Both boys burst out laughing.

"Well, in that case—thanks, Namaiki-chan!" Naruto grinned, his mood flipping like a light switch. "You really went all out!"

"Today’s the end of the week," Sasuke reminded him, smirking. "You ready to show Inuzuka what you’ve got?"

"Definitely!" Naruto said, his grin turning mischievous. "He better be ready to pack double bento for us!"