[Mad Tiger] Chapter 16

It felt like the local Ichiraku Ramen spot was straight out of a spy movie—the ubiquitous sketchy diner where undercover agents exchange intel in plain sight. Seriously! A full-on ninja ramen shop. People come in, share “harmless” chit-chat, and old man Teuchi—if that’s even his real name—probably sends it all up the chain. I’ve overheard at least three versions of my own “legend” while I was pilfering, I mean, "reclaiming" the meat.

Perched on a tree branch with my loot, I caught sight of none other than Iruka-sensei, who’d apparently come to grab a cheap bite. Makes me wonder how much they pay teachers around here. 

Back in my old world, the ones yelling the loudest were always the ones complaining about their low pay and “stressful jobs.” The less they got paid, the louder they screamed. Iruka seemed to fit the profile, though I guess being an orphan doesn’t help with stress levels either. Still, wasn’t he supposed to bond with Naruto eventually? If I mess with him now, could that derail their future friendship?

Ugh, what a dilemma. Being a force for justice is exhausting. Sure, punishing bad behavior is important, but it’s gotta be strategic. Otherwise, you end up doing more harm than good. Besides, the first rule of spying—and cat life—don’t get caught.

Deep in my moral quandary, I stared at the green vest with the red swirl on the back as I munched on my hard-earned pork. Iruka must’ve felt my gaze because he glanced around, but obviously, he didn’t see me. Thick foliage and all that. Konoha may be a bustling ninja village, but there’s plenty of trees even near the center. The Academy is just two blocks away, and the Administration Building only one. Maybe that’s why the teacher came here? Close by. As far as I recall from Takaro’s explanations, the marketplace, shops, and cafes are farther out—near the stadium, past the local hospital and medical district, down the central street. Ichiraku is much closer, occupying such a prime spot in Konoha.

As I contemplated my superior hiding skills, an old man walked into Ichiraku and greeted some shinobi having lunch. The whole place suddenly went on high alert. Heads bobbed like dashboard hula dolls, and some people even stood up to bow, like the guy was a daimyo or something. But I know daimyo. This guy’s not it.

Wait a second… I recognize him!

That’s the old-timer who was at the council meeting when I was still a kitten! Kobo-san called him “the Old Monkey.” Monkey… Saru…! It’s Sarutobi! The former Hokage! The guy who ran the show before Kushina. Although, why am I even surprised? Even though he was deposed, there were no mentions of imprisonment or execution. So I guess, right now he’s just an old man enjoying his retirement. Maybe he decided to simply grab some ramen. Easy to chew, after all.

Sarutobi exchanged some sort of subtle signal with Iruka, who slurped down the rest of his noodles in record time, tossed some cash on the counter, and left with the old man. The two of them walked off together, Sarutobi in his white robes looking like some kind of decrepit cherub on his way to trial. Only the gleaming bald spot on his head ruined the angelic vibe. It reflected sunlight like a discount halo. I guess I got this dislike from Kobo-san - sensei did not trust this Monkey, and the whole story with the Uchiha clan was shifty too.

Naturally, my curiosity went through the roof. I followed them, ninja-style, hopping from branch to branch. Even toned down my chakra so I’d seem harmless—just a cat, minding his business.

“How’s life treating you, Iruka-kun?” Sarutobi asked, settling onto a bench in the park. “How are your students? Not causing too much trouble?”

“Uh, no, everything’s fine, Sarutobi-sama,” Iruka replied, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Aha! Guilty conscience much?

“Remember, children are the new leaves on the Tree of Konoha. The Will of Fire must burn in each of us!” The old man launched into some motivational speech straight out of a propaganda poster. “We’re all equal, all connected,” blah, blah. Yeah, I’ve heard this spiel before. Back home, it was all about unity and moving toward a “bright future,” conveniently ignoring that someone’s always pulling the strings behind the scenes.

“The Will of Fire,” Iruka echoed, sounding like he’d just been indoctrinated. “Everything’s fine, Sarutobi-sama, but about Naruto…”

“Yes, he’s a handful, but Naruto is almost as much an orphan as you were. He’s a good boy; he just needs attention, like you once did. Besides, if anything happens to Kushina-san, Naruto will be the only one who can hold the Nine-Tails. You wouldn’t want another disaster like eleven years ago, would you?”

What the heck?! Was that a threat to Kushina? Or just a subtle warning for Iruka to get his act together? Either way, this whole conversation was raising red flags faster than an Olympic referee.

“I’m trying, Sarutobi-sama, but he just…” Iruka began, only to get cut off.

“Remember the trouble you caused as a kid,” the old man interjected. “People were patient with you. That boy just needs someone to listen.”

They chatted on, mostly about mundane stuff—Iruka’s parents, his students. Disappointingly, not a single mention of me, the glorious ninja cat. Honestly, I’d expected more. Like, maybe they’d plot a coup or scheme against Kushina. But nope, just two guys talking about life, in broad daylight, in a ninja village.

"I have to go to class, Sarutobi-sama," Iruka carefully reminded him when the old man got carried away and started babbling about "old times."

"I haven't seen you at your parents' grave for a long time, Iruka. I often come to the cemetery to visit my wife and my eldest," Obezian nodded, "especially lately..."

"I just didn't have time, Sarutobi-sama," Iruka smiled guiltily. "But you're right, I need to visit them.”

Eventually, they parted ways and I, mission complete, stretched and prepared to head back to the Academy. But first, claw maintenance. The tree I’d been lurking in was perfect for it—smooth yet firm, like the ninja equivalent of a nail salon.

And then I saw it. No, him.

A ninja in a mask, perched on a branch above me. His mask looked like a cat’s face, and sticking out above it were telltale gray hairs. Holy crap. Was he spying on the conversation too? Or maybe keeping tabs on Sarutobi? Either way, this guy was the real deal. A proper spy!

And here I thought I was the sneaky one.

I quickly scurried back to my branch before Masked Guy could turn around and realize I’d spotted him. Then I settled in to watch—who was he going to follow? Iruka, who had already shuffled off to the end of the park path? Or Sarutobi, still chilling on the bench and tossing breadcrumbs like he was the grandpa to every pigeon in Konoha?

He didn’t go after Iruka! Aha! I knew it! He’s tailing the Old Monkey!

Wait… weird. Mask Guy wasn’t moving at all. Meanwhile, Sarutobi stood up, dusted off his robes, and started shuffling along the path at a pace only slightly faster than the average tortoise.

Uh… dumb thought, but… he’s not watching me, is he?

So now here we are, sitting like two clueless cats playing Spy vs. Spy—me watching him, him watching… me? “Shuper Shpies,” as my grandma would say, with an even more exaggerated lisp and a sarcastic tone that only grandmas can pull off.

Time to test my theory. Maybe he is watching me. Sarutobi had scattered bread pieces, and the birds were still fighting over crumbs near the bench. It’s the perfect chance to act like a regular cat and throw him off my trail. 

Muahaha! Such devious brilliance!

But seriously, who put Mask Guy on me? Was it Kushina-san? I doubt it was Lady Shijimi—she doesn’t benefit from those rumors about me being a ninja cat spreading around the village. Naruto, bless his clueless little heart, just happened to guess right. But come on, it’s not like I’m chucking shuriken or shape-shifting like a ninken. I’m just living my best cat life! Who cares what a kid with wild imagination says… though it would help if that gossip-loving old man would keep his mouth shut for once.

I slinked down from the tree and crept toward the bench, belly low to the ground. Ooh, look at that plump pigeon. Jackpot.

“Cat!” chirped a sparrow from above, but it was too late. The pigeon was mine—caught mid-flight. Honestly, I only meant to scare it, but sometimes instincts take over, you know? And now I’ve got a dead bird in my mouth. Gross. Absolutely not. But I can’t just drop it… can I?

“That was awesome!” squeaked a voice behind me. I turned to see a scrawny black kitten, maybe six months old, staring at me with wide, admiring eyes.

“Uh, hey… you want this pigeon?” I asked, hoping to offload the unfortunate casualty.

“You’re giving me your catch?” The little guy looked surprised but thrilled.

“Well, yeah,” I said, magnanimous as ever. “Name’s Tora. Go ahead, kid. You look like you could use it more than me.”

“I’m Sumi,” the kitten said, licking his lips and inching closer. “Thank you, Tora-san!”

“Take care, Sumi-chan.” I flicked my tail and sauntered off toward the Academy, feeling oddly heroic. Mask Guy followed, of course. Now that I know he’s there, it’s way easier to spot him lurking around.

But seriously, who put a ninja babysitter on me? And more importantly, why? Time to put my superior feline intellect to work.