[Mad Tiger] Chapter 33

I heard back from the author. In Chapter 31, Tora didn't recall anything specific about Shijimi and Damyo (“former owners”), even though he mentioned them. At the time he only knew of them through Shisui and Kushina, learning that they were his previous owners, but he had no actual memories of who they really are or his time spent with them.

_____________________________________________

“Tora-chan?” I was nearly sniffed off my paws.

Of course, to a massive beast like Kuromaru, even though I’m no small fry myself, it’s no more effort than… well, marking his territory on a lamppost. You get the idea.

“I’m happy to see you too, Kuromaru-san,” I said, rubbing affectionately against my friend’s legs.

“Haven’t seen you in ages,” Kuromaru said, giving me a scrutinizing look with his single, sharp eye.

He wasn’t wrong. It had been about eight weeks since I’d last shown my face in Konoha, plus another ten days spent recovering from poisoning. All in all, a solid two-month disappearing act.

“You’re looking a little rough,” he added, giving me another sniff for good measure.

I swear, he could hoover up a crime scene with that nose. Hmm. Hoover… mental note for later jokes.

“You been out, having fun?” Kuromaru grinned, flashing his sharp teeth. “Or just under the weather?”

“Hey, you don’t feel like something’s… off in the village?” I asked cautiously, steering the topic elsewhere.

“No, everything seems normal,” he replied, tilting his head in thought.

“How about two weeks ago? Remember the red moon? You know, apocalyptic vibes, weird stuff?” I pressed.

Kuromaru paused, looking seriously contemplative. That’s when I remembered dogs are colorblind to shades of red and orange. Crap! Why do I even know this random trivia about canine physiology? Ugh, thanks, brain.

“There was a festival,” I clarified, trying a different angle. “With lanterns. Autumn Equinox.”

“Oh, that crowded night. All us ninken were patrolling the village perimeter while people celebrated,” Kuromaru replied, nodding. “The clan was tasked with perimeter security. Nothing unusual happened.”

“Interesting,” I muttered. So they’d conveniently kept the Inuzuka dogs busy during the big event, huh?

“Is it standard practice to send you guys out alone for patrols like that?” I asked, fishing for details.

“Yeah, on big holidays like New Year’s or the Equinox. When the village gathers together,” Kuromaru confirmed. “We handle patrols ourselves, but we can always call for backup if needed.”

“Got it. Well, hate to burst your bubble, but something did happen,” I said, grimly. “Let’s head to Tsume-san. It'll make more sense if I explain there. Also, I’m starving. Sick, running around… I’ve been through it.”

Kuromaru, ever the professional, didn’t ask questions. His job was following orders, no “why” or “how” necessary. On the way, he filled me in on Kiba and Akamaru’s absence—they were off on some school camping trip with their class and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.

Tsume Inuzuka, Kuromaru’s human partner and the head of the clan, was home, busy whipping up what I recognized as her “special recipe.” My stomach growled loudly as the scent of that familiar, slightly spicy stew hit me. Food!

“Who’s this with you, Kuromaru?” Tsume asked, narrowing her eyes at me with interest.

Kuromaru froze, visibly taken aback. He gave me another quick sniff, like I might suddenly reveal myself to be some impostor under a Transformation Jutsu. You know, because that’s a normal Tuesday in Konoha.

“Your friend?” she asked again, raising an eyebrow. “And who’s this new buddy of yours?”

Cue deja vu. The whole “tiger” conversation from six months ago played out again. By the end of it, Tsume was rubbing her temples in frustration but ultimately welcomed me and, mercifully, served me some of that glorious food.

“Surprised Tsume-san didn’t remember me?” I asked Kuromaru after cleaning out Akamaru’s bowl, which they’d kindly filled with the stew. Ah, warm belly, topped-off chakra, and a full tank of energy. Bliss.

“She’s got an excellent memory and sense of smell. You’re not exactly easy to confuse with anyone else. I don’t get it…” Kuromaru replied, clearly unsettled.

“I’ll explain,” I sighed, settling myself comfortably on his back. “Long story short, someone slapped a genjutsu over the entire village and surrounding area. Basically, people were made to forget certain things. Or, more accurately… certain people.”

I gave Kuromaru the lowdown on my recent escapades, the whole mess with Kushina and Shisui leaving the Forest of Death to hunt down someone who could undo Minato’s seal, and my role as the designated babysitter for the kid.

“And that’s the tea, served with a side of existential dread,” I finished my tale.

“Ooof,” Kuromaru summarized succinctly. “The Inuzuka clan is loyal as ever… but if Tsume and the others don’t even realize the Hokage’s changed…”

“Yeah, no explaining this to the villagers,” I agreed, sighing again.

Not to mention, Kushina-san’s sudden “return from the dead” would raise a million questions, even if someone managed to dispel this genjutsu. What’s she supposed to say? That she fell into a time-space trap? Apparently, those are just everywhere around here. Anyway, she’s smart—she’ll figure it out. Me? I’ll stick to my small-scale missions. Like making sure my “yellow chick” doesn’t starve.

“I don’t know how to tell Tsume about this,” Kuromaru admitted, breaking into my thoughts. “I wouldn’t even know where to start, and it doesn’t really involve the clan. Plus, I never noticed the change myself—scent over sight, you know?”

“Yeah, don’t bring it up yet. Remember how the adults treat Naruto? Even if you explained everything to Tsume-san, she’d struggle to fight off the fabricated hatred. But Kiba doesn’t have that issue, and I want those two to be friends again,” I shared my master plan with Kuromaru.

Napoleon? Nah, I’m cooler than him. I’m—wait, who was Napoleon again? Some big-shot general? Whatever.

“What can I do to help?” Kuromaru asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“My kid’s starving, and he’s got ANBU babysitters tailing him everywhere,” I grumbled.

Evil laugh? Oh, you bet. But quietly, so I don’t drop the little bag I’m carrying in my teeth. My secret ninja stash. Kuromaru distracted the ANBU agent shadowing Naruto, giving me the perfect chance to slip into the apartment through an open window.

Kuromaru even helped carry the supplies to the Uchiha district earlier, and now it was my time to shine. Shadows? Stealth? Deception? I was practically a pro at it already.

Kuromaru and I? Total Bonnie and Clyde vibes. We “liberated” some supplies for the kid—a minor redistribution of wealth. Sure, the store we hit was run by the Sarutobi clan, but hey, that’s just karma, baby.

I commandeered a half-liter carton of milk, a pack of eight sausages, a 400-gram piece of packaged meat, and a one-kilo bag of rice from the place. Everything went into a carry sack, and Kuramaru kindly lugged it most of the way to the drop-off point before expertly diverting any unwanted attention.

Naruto, evidently worn out from his endless training sessions, was already snoozing when I got back. I stashed everything but the rice in the fridge. Say what you want, but I’ve become an absolute pro at sneaking in and out of Kushina-san’s kitchen without a sound. If there was an award for "Ninja Refrigerator Operations," it’d be mine, hands down. What’s the point of ninja skills if you can’t use them to steal a decent meal?

Feeling mighty proud of myself, I leaped onto the bed next to the kid, nudged him off my rightful pillow, and buried my face in his hair.

“Namaiki-chan?” Naruto mumbled sleepily, his fingers threading through my fur. “You’re back…”

I hummed a little tune for him, and we both drifted off into dreamland.

The look on his face the next morning? Priceless. His eyes were practically perfect little circles of shock. Totally worth getting up early.

I’d already laid out my glorious haul on the table like a five-star breakfast spread: sausages, meat, milk, all artfully arranged around me. I plopped myself in the center of it all, looking like the king of brunch. Honestly, who’s going to argue? I wasn’t dumb enough to leave everything out overnight—what if there were security seals or some ninja guarding the place after hours? Plus, October mornings weren’t cold enough yet to keep milk and meat fresh sitting out. Nope, this was ninja precision at its finest. Straight from the fridge to the table. Try proving otherwise. Heh.

Naruto? Yeah, we’re losing him.

“N-Na… ma… iki-chan…” he stammered, pointing a shaky finger at me.

I stood up, stretched luxuriously, and flicked my tail like a question mark.

The kid stepped closer, eyes darting between me, the sausages, and the meat. Back to me. Then to the milk.

“Well, are we having breakfast, or what?” I asked casually, lifting the milk carton with my teeth like the classiest dinner guest you’ve ever seen.

“F-friends share, right?” Naruto asked, his voice wobbling between uncertainty and delight.

“Yes!” I declared with a grin. “We’ve got big plans today!”