"Here. This is the latest art book."
Hinata placed a stack of art books on the counter before her, pale eyes fixed on the shopkeeper—Squirrel—who came scurrying out with the look of a man who'd just found buried treasure. Clearly, he'd been waiting for this delivery for quite some time.
"Ohh~ Lady Hinata, you never disappoint! Let me tell you—the last run of Fox Tales hit a new sales record! If you weren't a major clan's heiress, I'd have shown up at your door to badger you! Fans have been lining up for the release!"
Squirrel flipped eagerly through the art book, then seemed to remember something and hastily hoisted a cash box from beneath his feet, pushing it across the counter. "Per our last agreement, here's your payment—one million two hundred thousand ryō. Triple the original fee!"
"You don't need to shout about pocket change like that. Rising sales numbers are nice, but this level of profit is still a long way from where I need to be."
As was her habit, Hinata popped open the cash box and activated her Byakugan to count. One million two hundred thousand ryō was a solid sum, but by her standards it was still just stopgap money at best. After all, her current operation was small-scale—photo albums stitched into art books. Barely worth mentioning.
"You're absolutely right, which is why I wanted to ask—have you considered a deeper partnership with us?"
Squirrel rubbed his hands together excitedly. Fox Tales had clearly evolved beyond a typical adult picture book—it now had actual narrative and plot. That elevated it from lowbrow smut to something genuinely respectable, dramatically expanding its market reach and pushing sales well above what ordinary adult material could achieve.
"I'll pass on that. All you need to do is receive our work on schedule. We're ninja, not merchants—making money is just a necessary step toward getting stronger. But if the time comes, I'll let you know."
Hinata collected her cash box and turned to leave. But at the door, she stopped and looked back. "Actually—give me a few copies of the new Fox Tales."
"Huh? Oh, sure sure~! You have no idea—these things have been selling like crazy! Other customers would kill for a single copy!"
Squirrel blinked, then hastily produced five slim volumes from beneath the counter. In size, they resembled Make-Out Paradise, but the contents were lavishly illustrated art spreads with integrated text. The front cover featured Naruto's fox-spirit songstress persona, the back cover Sasuke's dashing nobleman look. The paper quality and image clarity had clearly received a major upgrade this issue—a genuine collector's item.
Of course, what caught Hinata's eye wasn't the cover, but the price tag.
"A thousand ryō per copy? That's downright extravagant."
She was nothing if not money-conscious. A thousand ryō was no small amount. But given that these were adult-oriented art books, the price wasn't unreasonable—the target audience could certainly afford it.
"HINATA!!"
A sudden roar nearly deafened her. Rubbing her ear, Hinata turned to find a man standing behind her with arms crossed—a pineapple-shaped hairstyle bearing some resemblance to Shikamaru's, a green Chūnin vest, and a distinctive scar across the bridge of his nose. None other than Umino Iruka, the current instructor for Hinata's class at the Ninja Academy.
"Oh... it's Iruka-sensei. What's the matter?"
Despite her casual tone, Hinata felt a twinge of a headache coming on. Truth be told, while she detested plenty of things in this world, Iruka wasn't one of them. Orphaned when the Nine-Tails killed his parents, Iruka had never joined the other villagers in hating Naruto. Instead, he'd poured his heart into teaching every student in this year's class—Naruto included. It was precisely because of this ordinary teacher's guidance that Naruto had developed a sound moral compass, preventing him from turning dark under the weight of the village's rejection.
A person like that—possessing neither the dramatic roles nor the flashy powers of the important characters, bearing no dazzling titles or glamour—was simply impossible to dislike.
"Don't you copy Shikamaru's lazy mannerisms! And don't play dumb! If I'm not mistaken, this is your seventeenth time skipping class this month, correct?"
Arms crossed, Iruka regarded Hinata with the aggrieved expression of a man watching good steel wasted. His tone carried genuine pain. "You're a girl—you can't go around acting like Naruto and his crowd!"
Sure enough—classic Iruka, opening with a lecture. But though his words carried a note of reproach, there was no condescension or mockery in them. Only undisguised concern.
This type of person is really hard to deal with...
Thinking this, Hinata sighed. Her original plan had been to skip the afternoon classes and prepare equipment for Phase Two training. But now, it seemed...
"Yes, I'm sorry, Iruka-sensei. I'll go to class right away."
Hinata bowed her head obediently, and the tension visibly drained from Iruka's face. A relieved smile spread across the young teacher's features. "That's more like it. Hinata is a sweet girl—you shouldn't be running wild like those boys. Come on, this afternoon's girls' class has flower arrangement and tea ceremony~"
"UGH~!"
Hinata froze mid-step. Right—she'd mentioned before that the Ninja Academy was a comprehensive institution. Beyond basic ninjutsu and general education, it also assigned gender-specific coursework. Boys received extra physical training, while girls took classes like flower arrangement, tea ceremony, and cooking.
For the original Hinata, these classes would've been a breeze. But for the current, transmigrated Hinata, being forced to attend girls' classes was roughly equivalent to getting an extra period—the monthly kind. Pure agony.
"Sorry, Iruka-sensei! I just remembered my house is on fire! I need to go put it out!"
She executed a crisp about-face and prepared to bolt. Iruka blinked—then erupted. "Hold it right there! Hinata, if your house is really on fire, then I'll come help you put it out!"
"I couldn't possibly impose on you, Sensei! Oh, by the way—I found an excellent art book. Please enjoy it, on me!"
Without breaking stride, Hinata yanked one of the five slim volumes from under her arm and flung it backward at Iruka, who caught it reflexively. One glance and his face went white. An outsider might not have recognized Naruto's transformed appearance on the cover, but Iruka—who had personally fallen victim to Naruto's transformations no fewer than seven or eight times—identified it instantly.
"Wait! Hinata! What is this?! Why do you have this kind of book?! This is—this is rated 18+! Get back here!"
Iruka was on the verge of a full meltdown, but by the time he looked up from the art book, Hinata had already vaulted onto a nearby rooftop and vanished into the distance. She'd been planning to skip the afternoon anyway—now it was absolutely non-negotiable.
Besides, the Academy graduation exam had nothing to do with tea ceremony or flower arrangement. And frankly, what did any of that have to do with her?
Cash box and remaining four art books in hand, Hinata made her way to a familiar spot near Konoha's waterfall. Sure enough, six figures were already waiting.
"Ahh~ Hinata, you're so slow~"
Sitting in a loose circle were Naruto, Sasuke, Shikamaru, Choji, and the transformed Sakura and Ino. To be near Sasuke, those two good students had apparently thrown caution to the wind and skipped class—a rare sight indeed.
"Shut it! I ran into Iruka on the way—nearly got dragged back to class! You guys have been skipping way too much lately, haven't you?"
Scowling, Hinata dropped the cash box in the center of the circle and took quick stock of everyone's condition.
Naruto was his usual self. Sasuke sat cross-legged with arms folded, radiating his trademark cool. The transformed Sakura and Ino flanked him on either side—looking for all the world like a pair of maids. Choji happily demolished an extra-large bag of chips. And Shikamaru—the least motivated of the bunch—sat slumped against a tree, head drooping.
All in all, everyone seemed in decent shape. At least, consistent with their usual selves.
"Forget it—after today, let's all actually show up for class tomorrow. Otherwise I'm worried Iruka will start hunting us down one by one."
As she spoke, Hinata opened the cash box. At the sight of the bills stacked inside, even Shikamaru couldn't help wincing. After all, one million two hundred thousand ryō was enough to commission ninja for an A-rank mission. In the original series, Tazuna—a nationally renowned bridge builder from the Land of Waves—couldn't even afford the fee for a B-rank mission. That put the sheer weight of this sum into perspective.
"Whoa~ That's so much money! Enough chips to last forever!"
Choji dropped his bag in pure awe, drool trailing from his lips. Behind Sasuke, Ino and Sakura both swallowed hard. This was without question the largest pile of cash either of them had ever seen in their lives.
"Ugh... I can feel the trouble already..."
Shikamaru pressed a hand to his forehead. As the smartest person in the group, he understood with perfect clarity that this much money meant proportionally more headaches.
"...Seeing the payoff is nice, I guess... but when I think about what we had to do to earn it, even this much doesn't feel like much..."
Naruto's face was the color of old ash. As the "leading lady," he felt the personal cost more acutely than anyone. Beside him, Sasuke turned his head away in silent agreement, declining to comment.
"Heh heh heh~ This is what talent looks like when you monetize it. Brilliant ideas plus effective organization and execution equals cold, hard cash."
Grinning smugly, Hinata distributed the money one bundle at a time, tossing each to its recipient. The box held twelve bundles total—a hundred thousand ryō each.
"Huh? What... what's this for?"
Sakura clutched her bundle nervously, staring at Hinata. Whatever else she thought of the white-eyed girl, "terrifyingly good at making money" was now firmly part of the assessment. Receiving such a windfall out of nowhere left both her and Ino somewhat dazed.
"Your advance pay. I'm a generous boss—keep working hard for the crew, and there'll always be a share for you come payday."
After distributing the main allotments, Hinata pulled an additional bundle and tossed it to Shikamaru, who looked up reluctantly. "What's this for?"
"Quit whining, Shikamaru. You're the smartest person here. I want you to analyze our art book sales data across every town in the Land of Fire, then put together an optimal distribution plan. The raw numbers are available from the bookshops, but crunching them takes real work."
Hinata snapped the cash box shut. Aside from her own hundred-thousand-ryō share, the remaining four hundred thousand she pocketed without ceremony—compensation for the financial hemorrhage of her last training cycle.
"Hah?? For a hundred thousand ryō you could hire a professional accountant! Why make me do it? I'm an eleven-year-old kid who hasn't even graduated from the Academy yet!"
Shikamaru, clutching his two bundles, looked anything but pleased. His rare spike in pitch made his displeasure and frustration unmistakable.
"Enough. I don't trust those accountants. But you? I've got leverage over you, which means you're the perfect candidate. Miss Shikamaru, please don't disappoint me—or you know what happens."
She let the warning hang, then stood. Her tone sharpened to a blade's edge. "All right, everyone—dismissed! Naruto, Sasuke! The next phase of your martial arts manual is ready. If you're truly not afraid of death, follow me."
"It's time we resumed our South Dipper Sacred Fists training!"