[Mad Tiger] Chapter 23

There’s this weird feeling gnawing at me, like something’s missing, but I can’t quite figure out what. Everything seems normal. The place still smells like Uzumaki territory. Naruto’s hair has that familiar herbal shampoo scent. He’s been healthy for a while now and back to attending the Academy. I can even catch a lingering whiff of Sasuke—he dropped by yesterday. There’s the everyday mix of ink, paper, the leather bag tossed in the corner, and the faint tang of kunai metal from the ones the boys cleaned and left on the table.

Naruto, my pillow-sharing neighbor, is peacefully asleep, his chakra barely circulating through his pathways. Kushina-san is across the hall in her room—I can sense her, too. Other than the three of us, the house is empty. So why does it feel so... off?

During these endless rains, I’ve discovered something peculiar about myself. Maybe it’s just a cat thing, but I have no one to compare notes with. See, ten hours of sleep? Perfectly normal for the body. But my mind? It doesn’t get tired. Even while my body naps, I can mull over things, listen to conversations, analyze scents, and sense auras. True, deep sleep, the kind where you’re totally out of it? That’s only about four hours for me. It’s why I could nap on the Hokage’s desk and still stay alert enough to remember everything. Convenient.

But still, what’s missing? Maybe there’s a mouse scratching somewhere? My hearing’s ridiculously sharp—I can break down sounds and pick out a whisper in a crowd like it’s nothing. It’s like adjusting the focus on your vision: near, far, pinpoint. Wait... that’s it! It’s too quiet. There’s no background noise, no rhythmic patter of rain hitting the roof, the ground, the leaves. Could it be...?!

Did the cat gods finally hear my prayers? Waaah!

I slid off the pillow and leapt to the windowsill. The sky was unbelievably clear. I’d almost forgotten what the moon looked like! It still blows my mind how huge it is. Is it massive because I’m tiny, or is the moon in this world just... bigger?

I can’t believe it—after almost a month and a half, the rainy season is finally over! I’ve been so cooped up, I feel like I’ve rusted in place. Sure, I kept in shape as much as I could, meditating most of the time, practicing chakra control, and figuring out how to send it to different parts of my body. When no one else was home, I trained by turning the kitchen faucet on and off using just a flick of my tail. Got that down just a couple of days ago, which, I have to admit, is a big win. But still, being stuck indoors 24/7? Not fun.

I wanna go out! Outoutoutoutout! Out-out-out!

“Kushina-san! Kushina-san! Kushina-san!”

“Huh? Tora-chan?” She cracked an eye open, looking less than thrilled.

“Myaaa-aaa-aaah!” I wailed dramatically, pacing near the window to show her the rain had stopped. I even purred a little, hoping to sweeten the deal.

“What’s wrong, little guy?” she asked, sitting up and rubbing her face groggily.

She looks just like a sleepy Naruto. Like mother, like son.

“Out! I wanna go out!” I hopped in place, nervous she might not understand.

“Oh, got it! The rain stopped?” Smart woman!

Without missing a beat, she formed some hand seals and touched a seal near the bedframe. A familiar green wave rippled through the walls, deactivating the barrier. Then, still sitting on her bed, she crossed her fingers and summoned a sleepy clone to open the shutters for me.

“Go ahead, little one!” she said with a smile. I didn’t need to be told twice—I slipped out into the moonlit night, painted in beautiful shades of gray.

Ah, the smell of freedom hit me like a shot of espresso: damp earth, freshly washed plants, and the crispness of ozone. The air was so clean, it felt like drinking spring water. I might end up a poet at this rate! I was buzzing with energy.

Tara-rah-rah-ta-ta! Onward, Kitty cavalry!

Happiness is marking your territory. And tonight, that meant reclaiming almost the entire neighborhood around Kushina-san’s house. To outsiders, it might seem silly, but this was serious business. Leaving my marks ensured that wanderers knew not to trespass without reason.

Before the rainy season, during my first two weeks in the Hidden Leaf, I’d already gained quite the reputation among the local cat population. My old pal Sumi—the black tom I once treated to a pigeon feast—had spread the word about me. Soon, Uzumaki’s place turned into a feline hotspot, with all kinds of cats dropping by to either challenge me or just see what the fuss was about.

Fights never happened, though. Every time I prepared to engage in a ceremonial takedown (as my old mentor Fuwa-chan had taught me), my opponents would bolt, tails tucked, stammering apologies. I couldn’t figure out why until Sumi explained that it was because I hadn’t officially claimed the territory as mine. Without my scent marking the area, I was like a stranger who hadn’t paid for their hotel room.

Apparently, the training grounds where I worked out with Naruto were already considered “mine,” thanks to the claw marks I left everywhere. Turns out, cats have scent glands between their toes, and my scratches served as symbolic flags.

Sometimes instincts nudged me toward odd behaviors, but back in the daimyo’s palace, there were no other animals, so I didn’t bother spraying things from the gland under my tail. I’d made peace with my inner beast to avoid such nonsense.

But my body is sly and devious! Turns out those weird urges to rub against legs or objects taken out of the mansion were instinctive markings of what belonged to me. That’s how I’d claimed Shijimi, Kushina, and Tsunade as “my women,” Naruto as “my boy,” and Ton-Ton as “my personal pig.”

Living in the Leaf introduced me to a whole new sensory world—an “aromatic chatroom,” if you will. I didn’t need to sniff every tree or rock to know who’d passed by. It was like a game overlay, with messages popping up like, “A tomcat with stomach issues was here last night” or “A cat rubbed against this post an hour ago—she’s expecting kittens.”

Unmarked, I’d been “incognito” in Konoha, which made everyone want to meet me. For tomcats, that meant testing who’s stronger. For the ladies? It was more like, “Are you looking to mate?”

Mating? Hard pass. Absolutely not. The mere thought of tiny, blind, dark kittens filled me with dread. None of the locals could compare to Fuwa-chan anyway. Maybe it wasn’t even about Fuwa, but my body, mind, and soul were firmly against those “spicy” offers.

Eventually, as Sumi admitted, my marks conveyed that I wasn’t interested in mating and that I was very strong and dangerous. That’s why, right after being freed from captivity, I ran around the entire perimeter to renew my markings, so I wouldn’t be bothered over trivial matters. I was always up for a chat or a fight, but I had zero desire to feel like Sasuke surrounded by his fangirls.

Now I wanted to try out everything I had “meditated on” during the past 47 days. And trust me, I was keeping score!

Jump, spin, left swipe, right swipe!

Hop, roll, double strike!

From the tree! All four limbs!

Yikes... Makiwara didn’t stand a chance.

Okay, so maybe this isn’t quite “wind claw” levels of cool, but chakra really does work wonders. I managed to tear through the wrappings. That’s a big deal. Of course, I ran out of steam pretty fast. What’s my combat stamina, like two minutes max? Not great, but honestly, I’m proud of myself. Compared to where I started, this is amazing!

I need to chat with Kuromaru sometime today—tomorrow. Maybe he’ll have some tips on expanding my chakra reserves. He’s definitely got more of it than I do. On the other hand, if I start packing too much chakra for a “normal” animal, I’ll show up on the radar of everyone with “speshal eyeballs"

So, in case of serious trouble, it’s better for me to run than fight. Fighting’s strictly Plan Z. I can hit speeds of up to 50 miles per hour using ninja moves, but I can only keep it up for about half a mile. I tested that before the rain started. Maybe it’s better now after a month and a half, but I need to check again.

I also want to know how long I can keep a steady pace—like, say, 12 to 15 miles per hour. How long would it take me to get to the daimyo’s palace at that speed? Could I even handle a 60-mile journey? I’ve got to test this out. Besides, I remember the way.

Shijimi will probably come back once the roads dry out—in a couple of days, maybe a week tops—so I need to polish my “attack” routine. If you can even call it that.

“Hey, let a poor, soggy little kitty in! I’m so thirsty I could drink a whole river. And while we’re at it, how about some food? Then I’ll curl up and sleep like royalty!” I scratched at Naruto’s window. That punk was still smooshing his face into his pillow while the sun was already starting to rise. Seriously?

To my surprise, a single claw on the glass startled him awake instantly. I hadn’t seen that kind of “deer-in-the-headlights” look on his face in ages.

“Tora! What are you doing out there? Oh, the rain’s finally stopped! Wow, you’re filthy! Where’ve you been wandering to get this dirty?” he babbled as he opened the window.

Where have I been? What, can’t you guess from the post-apocalyptic state of the streets? And for the record, I’ve barely even touched the ground. I’ve been extra careful to keep my fur pristine.

“Wash me! And feed me!” I demanded, staring him down.

“You need to clean your paws, or Mom’s gonna freak out,” Naruto said, completely misinterpreting my very clear request. “Hey, wanna come with me to the Academy? You haven’t been there in a while.”

At that moment, his alarm clock went off.

Great. Another one of life’s little dilemmas.

END OF PART ONE