"Relax. It's me."
Hearing the voice, Mikoto and Nonō both spun around—
Only to find their useless scam-artist teacher standing behind them.
"You almost made me drop my cake! How are you going to compensate me?"
"Yeah! Same here!"
"…There's a mission.
A C-rank one.
Enough compensation?"
"WHAT?!" x2
A hallway wasn't the best place to talk, so Kaito gestured with his eyes.
They followed him back to Nonō's home.
Mikoto—who had already made herself extremely comfortable in Nonō's house—acted like she owned the place.
She grabbed a clean pair of guest slippers and shoved them toward Kaito.
"Sensei, hurry up and tell us. What kind of mission is so hush-hush?"
Bonk!
"Ow—!"
Kaito chopped her lightly on the head while changing his shoes.
"Rule number one of being a shinobi: mission confidentiality.
Don't tell me you skipped that class."
"It's keep your mouth shut, not whatever you just said!" Mikoto huffed.
"Same meaning."
Kaito brushed past her and sat on the sofa.
His eyes drifted toward their freshly purchased cakes.
"Teacher is allowed to eat these, right?"
"No!"
Mikoto immediately shielded her strawberry shortcake like a mother protecting her child.
"Don't even LOOK at it, you stingy freeloader!"
Kaito chuckled.
Honestly, he liked this Mikoto more—
the lively, slightly spoiled girl with bite.
The original timeline's Mikoto…
Someone who lived through that much death and politics…
Gentleness was a mask, not a state of mind.
"Anyway. I already notified Duy.
We depart tomorrow noon.
Make sure you eat well before leaving.
Even if you die, at least die on a full stomach."
"Pfft—!"
Nonō nearly sprayed her milk and slammed a cup in front of him.
"Sensei! Don't say things like that before our first C-rank mission!"
"Sorry. I'm… a guy who gets discouraged easily.
Maybe that's why I never became a chūnin or learned any advanced ninjutsu…"
Mikoto stared at him.
That… wasn't acting.
Or if it was, he deserved an Academy Award.
She couldn't tell anymore.
He looked genuinely hopeless—
like someone who'd seen the world end.
"…Fine. Take my cake."
She pushed her precious 3,000-ryō strawberry cake toward him, even placing the spoon neatly on top.
"In that case, I won't hold back."
Instant mood shift.
In one second, Kaito went from dejected to calm, steady, and annoyingly composed.
Before Mikoto could even react—
Half the cake was already gone.
She stared at the desecrated dessert in pure betrayal.
This bastard tricked me…!
But it was too late to save it.
Within seconds the entire cake vanished.
Clean plate.
Not a crumb left.
"Here, Mikoto. I'll share half of mine."
Nonō pushed her own cake over.
"You're the best, Nonō!"
The two girls hugged,
and Kaito—for a moment—almost had an inappropriate mental image of a haughty black-haired lady and a sweet blonde maid.
He quickly shoved the thought away and got serious.
He walked them through the mission details—
everything he knew, everything that might go wrong.
Ten minutes later:
"That's the situation.
Tomorrow morning or tonight, buy mission supplies yourselves.
This job will take at least ten days round-trip."
"And after that, you'll only have a few days left to prepare for the Chūnin Exam.
If any of you get injured—"
"Then we pass next time!"
Kaito cut himself off quickly.
He didn't want any of them dying for pride.
He didn't know whether his presence here would change their fates—
whether these kids who originally should've survived would instead die early because of him.
"Impossible! We'll pass in one try!"
Mikoto clenched her tiny fists.
"A little C-rank mission and a chūnin exam? Easy. Watch me."
"Yeah… we can do it."
Nonō encouraged her friend—and herself.
Seeing their spirits high, Kaito nodded.
Right before leaving, he asked casually:
"Oh right, Mikoto—can you use Shadow Clone?"
"Of course. Anyone can do that."
She waved dismissively.
"Can you show me? I want to analyze something for a technique idea."
"Another useless D-rank jutsu you're trying to invent?"
She rolled her eyes but didn't hesitate.
She formed seals:
Serpent → Ram → Tiger
"Shadow Clone Technique!"
Poof!
A perfect copy of her appeared.
Kaito memorized her hand-seal speed and pattern instantly.
"How many can you make?"
"Two."
Expected.
Shadow Clones consumed massive chakra.
For a genin her age, two was already impressive.
Kaito dismissed her, telling both girls to rest and explain things to their families.
Especially Mikoto.
He'd rather her grandfather not stalk missions from the shadows.
That night — Kaito's apartment
Serpent → Ram → Tiger
"Shadow Clone Technique."
POOF! POOF! POOF!
Three clones appeared—
created using only one-fifth of his chakra.
Meaning full output?
Fifteen clones.
Kaito's living room was plain—modern TV, sofa, coffee table.
Two of his own sketches hanging on the wall.
And a brown, furry tail displayed like a trophy.
Everyone in the squad had asked where the tail came from.
He claimed he "just found it during a mission."
Reality?
It was his.
Kaito would rather die than transform into a giant ape under a full moon and demolish six years of progress.
"Main body, this mission is dangerous. I've got a bad feeling about Kakuzu showing up."
"Cut the 'bad feeling.' It's called reality."
"Exactly. Reject the mission."
"Hey! I didn't summon you three to complain."
His clones lounged around like it was their home.
Kaito rubbed his temples.
"I need a disguise identity. Something for… less public activities."
"A pseudo-identity? Sounds fun."
"How about 'A-Xing'?"
"What if we register the name Akatsuki early?
Then when Yahiko's group tries to use it, we can charge them licensing fees!"
"Genius!"
Kaito:
"…These idiots are not my clones."
After arguing for half an hour, they settled on an alias:
Dr. Surgeon
He didn't actually know medical ninjutsu—
but he did study anatomy and understood basic surgical procedures.
With practice, he might even be able to treat patients properly.
And with Transformation Technique + Life Return mimicry…
He could alter height, face, hair, body shape.
Sure, it drained stamina—
but with Saiyan physiology now?
He could manage.
"Alright. First, food."
Kaito stretched.
"That cake wasn't enough. After dinner, we train."
Being a sensei was exhausting—
daytime missions, evening training, no breaks.
The price of staying alive without getting promoted.
To read advanced Chapters, head over to p@treon:
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