After school, Kitazawa left the academy and headed to Kurenai Yūhi's house.
After knocking and receiving permission, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
In the living room, Kurenai and Yakumo Kurama were seated side by side.
Neither of them wore shoes; two pairs of fair feet—one large, one small—rested directly on the wooden floor.
"Kitazawa‑sensei," Yakumo greeted in a gentle tone.
There was a captivating magic hidden in her voice.
Kitazawa couldn't help relaxing; the fatigue he'd built up from the day's work seemed to vanish completely.
"How is it?"
Kurenai asked with a playful smile. "Feeling refreshed?"
"I am," Kitazawa admitted, marveling. "Yakumo's talent for genjutsu is truly frightening."
"Well, she's from the Kurama clan—once as renowned as the Uchiha."
Kurenai paused, then continued, "You're just in time. What do you think we should name this sound‑based genjutsu?"
Yakumo's unusual voice a moment ago had been produced by a sound genjutsu—a D‑rank technique Kitazawa and Kurenai had spent two weeks creating. Its effect was simple: through sound, it lowered a target's guard and swept away fatigue.
"A name, huh?"
Kitazawa rubbed his chin. He was notoriously bad at naming things—he could spend one or two hours just choosing a character name in a game.
"Let's call it Art of Talk Therapy—how's that?"
"Healing with words? Not bad; it fits the technique perfectly," Kurenai mused.
"Thank you, both of you," Yakumo said, standing and giving a slight bow.
"No need to be so formal," Kitazawa replied, patting her head. "If you become a psychological medic‑ninja, it'll help all of us."
"Exactly," Kurenai added. "Someday we might need you to treat us."
She wasn't merely comforting Yakumo; in fact, genjutsu specialists are the shinobi most prone to psychological injury. Genjutsu is classified as Yin Release—every battle is a clash of mental power, and one misstep can leave lasting trauma.
Take Kakashi Hatake in the original story: caught in Itachi Uchiha's Tsukuyomi, his mind was shattered and he lay unconscious for a month.
The truly unlucky one, of course, was Sasuke Uchiha: whenever his hatred waned, Itachi would stab him with genjutsu again, replaying the clan's massacre like a looping VCR.
"Mm!" Yakumo nodded firmly. "I'll work hard!"
"Kurenai and I can only help you with genjutsu," she went on after a moment's thought. "Your real strength is your kekkei genkai, so develop it properly."
"I understand," Yakumo replied. "Kitazawa‑sensei has already pointed the way—I'll wield its power with my brush."
"Your kekkei genkai is very strong," Kitazawa reminded her, thinking of Ido from the original work. "Don't fear it—embrace it."
"I will." Yakumo smiled. "Besides, I have you two. I'll be fine."
"There's plenty of time—no rush," Kurenai said, standing up. "Kitazawa, stay for dinner. I'll cook."
"Gladly," Kitazawa answered at once. Over the past two weeks he had mooched many meals here, and the two had grown much closer.
"I'll help." He followed her into the kitchen.
Kurenai slipped on an apron, lifted her long hair to reveal a slender white neck, pinned it up, then picked up a spatula—the very picture of a warm, domestic wife.
After dinner, Kitazawa bid Kurenai good‑bye and went home.
…
A new day—30 April, the monthly exam day for Class 1‑A.
Kitazawa would sit the test too; it was part of his mission. Taking first place wasn't easy, but as the question‑setter and year‑one coordinator, he already knew all the answers. Little cheats aren't cheats when the teacher does them.
He arrived early at the classroom—today's exam hall—and let out a small "Hm?" of surprise.
He had spotted Sasuke Uchiha. Compared to yesterday's "Sunny Sasuke," today was clearly "Cloudy Sasuke," as though a dark cloud hovered over his head.
"Sasuke, what's wrong?" Kitazawa walked over.
"I'm fine," Sasuke muttered without looking up.
"No, you're not." Kitazawa sat beside him. "If you don't talk, how can I help?"
His mission wouldn't allow Sasuke to give up here.
"You can't help," Sasuke said after thinking for a moment. He'd seen Kitazawa's Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu—impressive, but not on Itachi's level.
Kitazawa frowned. Watch that attitude, kid. I'll give you one more chance—rephrase that.
"Why not?" he asked in a mock‑Uchiha accent. "Have you ever seen me at full power?"
"N‑no…" Sasuke blinked. "Are you stronger than my brother?"
"You're this depressed because you saw your brother's Great Fireball last night, right?"
Kitazawa ignored the question and asked, "How tall was it?"
"About three stories high," Sasuke said, gesturing.
Seeing Itachi's fireball had made him feel the gulf between them—despite being brothers—was immense.
"Nine metres?" Kitazawa raised an eyebrow. "Not bad."
"Not bad?!" Sasuke straightened, hope returning.
"I can teach you to breathe out a ten‑metre fireball," Kitazawa said earnestly. He wasn't bluffing. The system's reward had granted him the sum total of everyone's experience with the Great Fireball, poured straight into his mind. No one in the ninja world understood the technique better than he did. As long as he had enough chakra, he could make the fireball as big as he wished.
My fireball is huge—brace yourself.
"Really?" Sasuke's eyes widened.
"Why would I lie?" Kitazawa patted his shoulder. "I'll teach you after the exam."
"Thank you, Kitazawa‑sensei!" Sasuke said gratefully.
"Get ready for the test." Kitazawa stood and went to the podium.
…
As time passed, Hinata Hyūga, Ino Yamanaka, Naruto Uzumaki and the others filed in.
"There's only one rule for this exam: no cheating. Anyone caught will have their score cancelled," Kitazawa announced gravely.
At 9 a.m. the written test began.
Kitazawa glanced across the room. Reactions varied: Sasuke and Shikamaru Nara looked relaxed; Hinata seemed ready to face a lethal foe, nerves taut; Naruto scratched his head at the questions, as if his brain were itching to grow.
Outside of Kitazawa's class, Naruto was average in most subjects.
Withdrawing his gaze, Kitazawa pulled out his own answer sheet and began. But first, he created two shadow clones to patrol the exam hall.
~~~
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