Homuri was a happy man. Every day he thanked the spirits and the gods for the fate he'd been given. His work helped people, and in return he received very good money, honor, and respect. His wife was a beauty, and his daughter was no less lovely. His son was growing into a strong, healthy, intelligent young man and was currently working in the capital. Peace and comfort reigned in the household, exactly the kind Homuri cherished.
Today was his day off, and the plan had been to spend his free time with his loved ones at the park. However, as it turned out, his wife and especially his daughter had entirely different plans for the day.
"Mom, how do I look? Does this dress make me look chunky? And the earrings? Should I wear the ones that don't match the dress but pop instead?" His fifteen-year-old daughter dashed around the house, checking the mirror every few minutes.
"Sweetheart, you look absolutely stunning. Husband, hurry up and tell me how I look."
Homuri wanted to cry, but sadly, his uninvited tears wouldn't be taken well by anyone, nor would they change a thing.
Today, as he had just learned, the Uchiha clan's district was being fully integrated with the village. Now people could freely visit the quarter from eight in the morning until six in the evening. He'd also found out that the clan was announcing the opening of a spa center, a boutique of unique women's clothing, and a library.
Homuri wouldn't have been nearly this dejected if the reason for the morning chaos at home had been the shop. He loved to spoil his wife and daughter and would gladly spend an entire day helping them pick out whatever they wanted. But his wife and daughter weren't primping because they intended to show off in public - they were getting ready because they planned to head to the library. Today, Akira was going to be giving out autographs for his new book, and Homuri understood perfectly well that it wasn't the book his ladies were excited about.
*What am I supposed to do?* Homuri - and several hundred men across Konoha - tried and failed to find an answer to that question.
****
"Cat, what's going on in the village?" On his way to the administration building, Hiruzen couldn't help noticing the agitation in the streets. So, upon arriving in his office, the first thing he did was ask ANBU - the very people meant to keep order and report unusual activity.
"Reporting, Hokage-sama." A woman appeared as if from nowhere, dropped to one knee, and began her report.
"Right now, due to the autograph-signing event at the library in the Uchiha district, which opened today, there's a heavy flow of people heading there. People are lining up outside the library and waiting for it to open. By our initial estimate, there are about four hundred people currently in line, and we expect the line to grow roughly two and a half times by the time the signing starts. Also, with the clan's permission, a few vendors have set up temporary food stalls near the lines. The queue is predominantly women, but there are men as well - most of them are trying to sell their places in line."
Hiruzen was silent. Tapping a finger against the desk, he tried to picture the line - and the situation as a whole.
*With that many people... won't the line reach all the way to the district gate?* Shaking his head, he gave an order.
"Get in touch with Mikoto-dono and let her know I want to assign several ANBU to maintain order."
"Yes, sir," Yugao replied, though she didn't rise from her knee.
"Anything else?" Hiruzen asked immediately.
"Hokage-sama... permission to relay a request - seven ANBU members are asking to be relieved of their duties until noon."
"..." Hiruzen nearly choked on tobacco smoke.
****
"Mother of the Shinigami... what is happening here?" Approaching from the north and circling around the library, Akira was confronted with a truly fearsome sight.
People. So many people. Despite the orderly shape of the gathered crowd - neatly formed into a line - any passerby would still be stunned.
"Damn it, I can't even see the end of the line! It disappears around the bend to the main street! Don't tell me... they're all here for an autograph? That can't be right, can it?" The moment he noticed the ripple of excitement that ran through the line as people started to spot him, Akira realized that yes - they were here because of him.
"Stay calm. I need to think this through somewhere quiet." He hurried to the door and tried to open it, but it was locked.
"Yurui, open up, it's me," he called out. There was a click and the doors swung open. He had barely taken a step when a slender hand grabbed his wrist and yanked him inside. The door was immediately locked behind him.
"Akira-san, thank goodness you're here." Still gripping his hand, the nervous girl began rattling off, worry all over her face. "They've been here for an hour and a half. A few tried to force their way inside, but thankfully our clansmen managed to talk sense into them. Akira-san, I'm scared."
ME TOO! he screamed internally, trying to calm his racing heart.
"Maybe... we should cancel the signing," he muttered under his breath.
"Absolutely not!" Yurui shook her head at once. "If we do that, they might wreck the library."
Akira risked a peek out the window and, seeing the crowd of women murmuring anxiously, he understood that yes, that's exactly what would happen. Worse - if he didn't sign here, he had the sinking feeling they'd come straight to his home.
"In theory, the barriers should keep me safe... ah no, I can see a few jonin out there." Akira realized he was trapped.
"How long until opening?" He tried to keep his voice even.
"Ten more minutes," she answered at once. "Mikoto-dono is aware of what's happening - she asked me to give you this."
"Oh! Good. She has a plan to defuse this somehow. Right now I am in no condition to come up with anything sensible..." He took the envelope, opened it, and pulled out the lone sheet inside.
[Order will be maintained by ANBU members and a few shinobi. Good luck.]
"I'VE BEEN ABANDONED," Akira realized.
Pacing in circles across the lobby, he started thinking hard about ways to resolve the situation. He got nowhere. In the end he accepted the obvious.
"All right, then I have no choice but to submit to my fate..." He created six clones and instructed them to prepare the reading hall for the influx and to fetch every available book from storage. The second floor was used as the stockroom, but Akira was afraid the books they had there definitely wouldn't be enough, so some clones had to sprint to the publisher's warehouse.
Seven minutes later, he took his seat at a table dragged to the center of the second reading hall. Behind him lay a massive stack of books that the clones would keep replenishing. On the table were five ballpoint pens - not cheap in this world - and a bottle of water.
Finally pulling himself together, Akira found a more comfortable posture in the chair and called out to Yurui waiting in the lobby:
"Open up."
"As a certain wise penguin once said: smile and wave." He pasted on the most charming smile he'd practiced that very morning in front of the mirror and looked expectantly to the first fan stepping up. Fan, not fangirl, as it turned out.
Per the system Akira had put in place, payment went to Yurui in the lobby, and then, down the line, he handed over the signed book.
"Hey there, what's your name?" he asked the shaggy, visibly excited young man, smile steady.
"Genju..." The way the guy was looking at him made Akira uneasy, so he hurriedly reached for the stack and signed the inside cover with:
"For my reader, Genju-kun." The young man reached out with trembling hands to receive the book, his fingers "accidentally" brushing Akira's.
"Akira-san... no, Akira-sama, I fell in love... with your book. Please accept my gratitude for your work." The guy bowed a perfect ninety degrees.
"I'm glad you liked it. Well then, Genju-kun, let's not make others wait. Thanks for coming - I really appreciate it."
The young man nodded fervently five times and headed off, glancing back every three steps.
Holy shit, Akira thought.
The next few dozen visitors smoothed over that first horrifying impression of his own idea. The Uchiha women, after all, were calmer and more reserved. True, they lingered a little longer than necessary.
He shifted from neutral to positive when the thirtieth person approached - a woman, beautiful, in her prime, with an elegant aura about her. The kind of person Akira actually enjoyed chatting with.
She reminds me of a cross between Mikoto and Hayana, he thought.
"Hello, Akira-san. You look wonderful," the woman was the first to speak.
"Please, next to you, I don't hold a candle," he replied smoothly, reaching for the next book and opening it.
"Hee-hee, that's lovely to hear. My name is Hanaske."
"Then... For my charming and sweet reader, Hanaske-chan." He wrote it and added his signature.
In the mechanics of signing, Akira found himself a little game. If a woman was older than him, he'd soften the tone and address her as if she were younger. So what he'd written for Hanaske would've fit a little girl, but hardly a mature woman. Conversely, for girls younger than him, he'd write in a more adult register. For example, for a thirteen-year-old Uchiha girl, he wrote: For the ever so alluring and captivating Shirui-san.
Women addressed like cute girls blushed, thanked him shyly, and left. The girls, also blushing but lifting their chins proudly, sashayed away, trying to sway their hips.
Akira's logic was simple: young girls want to be seen as adults, and women, on the contrary, long to feel young again. So he gave them exactly that - and enjoyed their reactions.
One woman over fifty was moved to tears by that mode of address and even tried to smother him in kisses. Keeping a polite distance and a hand out, he had to let her kiss his cheek so she'd go. He did like older women - just not that much. Unless, of course, they looked like Tsunade.
After the deliciously embarrassed and satisfied Hanaske departed, a rather energetic-looking brunette with shoulder-length hair stepped up to the table.
She left a very positive impression - mostly because she announced he could count on a 20 percent discount at her bakeries.
The woman after her, on the other hand, did not. A blonde wanted to know what fragrance he wore. After getting an answer, she didn't leave.
"And you wouldn't happen to sell your sweat?"
He escorted that lunatic out as politely and quickly as possible.
"Hi," twins greeted him in sync, stepping up together.
"I'm Kaori."
"And I'm Kasumi."
It was a little hard to talk to both women at once - they seemed to share a single brain. One would start a sentence, and the other would finish it.
They offered him a personal tour of the spa center, which Akira declined, citing his schedule. In his heart, though, he admitted that under different circumstances he would've said yes - who in their right mind would pass up hot springs with two dazzling twins? [ image ]

"Could you sign here as well?" said either Kaori or Kasumi, throwing her leg up onto the table. She hiked her skirt quite high, making it very clear she wanted his signature on the inside of her thigh.
"Umm, I did not think I'd be signing these today... all right, a pen won't do." Uncapping an inkwell and taking up a nib, he added his signature under the twins' giggling.
"That tickled," admitted the one who'd gotten the signature.
"And I want it here." Circling the table, the other twin came closer and bared her flat stomach, raising her top.
And they're not embarrassed doing this in public? he thought, then carefully signed with the nib, steadying himself by resting his other hand lightly at her waist.
The giggling twins left behind a rather deep impression.
Meanwhile, the stream of people kept coming. It felt like it would never end.
A book that was meant to capture an audience of fourteen and up, mostly men, had somehow drawn mostly women to the library - women of every age.
He didn't want to disappoint people who had stood in line for so long, so Akira kept signing straight through to evening. He ate both lunch and dinner in the library. Luckily he didn't have to go anywhere for food - some of the fangirls brought him pies, cupcakes, and other treats.
When the very last person got their autograph and left, Akira - whose face ached from endless smiling - sprawled across the table.
I'm so tired... Turns out fame isn't such a great resource after all. And let's be honest - I doubt even a third of the crowd actually read my book. He wasn't blind or deaf. In the first hour alone, he'd become a hundred percent certain that most of the women were there to chat a little and try their luck with him.
Even if I were a triple reincarnator, there's no way I could juggle that many relationships... That thought was obvious to him, so beyond basic courtesy and a few compliments, the women got nothing more.
It wasn't only women, of course - men came too, and with them Akira enjoyed talking. They were genuine fans of the book and could offer worthwhile feedback. Some guys were just there to accompany their wives or girlfriends. Homuri, for instance, quietly complained about the chaos he'd accidentally unleashed. Akira understood - the line had been enormous.
And then there was a third type of man, whom Akira was a little wary of. He only ran into three of them all day, but their existence alone was enough to make him clench up a bit. The scariest was probably a muscular, bald jonin who acted around him like a bashful six-year-old girl.
All in all, over the course of the day Akira managed to make brief acquaintances with many people. He paid the closest attention to women from various clans - Yamanaka, Nara, Hyuga, etc. Connections with those clans would be useful for his future. He chatted a bit longer than usual with Ino, for example, asking about her studies and how she was doing. From the familiar faces out of the anime, he also managed to meet Tenten.
Reaching into the sleeve of his kimono, Akira felt his palm brush a collection of small slips of paper.
Ah, right - I'll throw those out later, he thought, struggling to rise from the table.
All day long, he'd received thirty-something of those "discreetly" passed notes. It wasn't hard to guess what they said - most listed an address and a time when the lady in question would be "available."
The saddest part is that some of those slips came from women wearing rings, and a few even handed them over while accompanied by their husbands, he thought, shaking his head and silently judging such morals.
When he reached the lobby, he saw Yurui asleep on a chair.
"Oh... all right." Forming a seal with one hand, he created a clone and told it to carry her home. Whether Yurui was truly sleeping that soundly was anyone's guess, but she didn't open her eyes as the clone lifted her into his arms.
"No funny business - as soon as you drop her off, dispel," Akira instructed mentally, seasoned by experience, and headed home.