Hanyū Yuuma didn't return to the remote Southern Forest that evening.Instead, he went back to the house he kept in Konoha's main district, cooked a simple two-dish dinner, and stepped outside.
He knew one truth well:connections aren't forged inside four walls.
A soft breeze drifted through the streets as Yuuma walked, eventually spotting Minato and Kushina sitting together on a park bench, talking quietly beneath the dusk sky.
Minato lifted his hand."Hanyu."
Yuuma nodded lightly and took the seat beside them."Finished dinner. Just walking it off."
Kushina leaned forward, fiery hair swaying."Hanyu-san, Minato told me you teach at the Ninja Academy?"
"Yes. I started this year." Yuuma answered, calm.
Minato's expression carried a hint of admiration."You must've done something remarkable. In the office, Lord Third talked about you. Said your teaching level was exceptional… even considered hiring you as Asuma's tutor."
Kushina blinked."That old man? He praised someone that much?"
Yuuma brushed it aside."It's mostly the students' hard work."
Then he smiled toward Minato."There's a reason you're already a Jonin at your age—Namikaze-san. You stand at the front line of the village."
Kushina smacked Minato on the back proudly."Right? My Minato is the best!"
Then she grinned in challenge."But hey, I'm a Jonin too."
Yuuma feigned surprise just enough."A Jonin of the Uzumaki clan… that's something special."
Kushina glowed instantly."Heh. You really know how to talk."
The three spoke a little longer under the night wind.Then Yuuma stood.
He left early on purpose.A man who overstays doesn't become a friend—just a shadow.A slow approach would be better.
The next day was a cycle of training for Obito, Guy, and Shisui until noon.Then Yuuma walked toward the Sarutobi household for Asuma's second day of tutoring.
But the boy was already leaning against a tree, arms folded, eyes half-lidded.
"I'm too tired today," Asuma muttered. "I don't want to train."
Yuuma's expression brightened unnaturally gently—always a warning sign."Ah. You're sleepy?"
"…Yeah. Didn't sleep well. Got a problem with that?"
Yuuma nodded, as if genuinely considerate."No problem at all. Sun's warm. Breeze is perfect. A great day for napping."
He stretched lazily, leaned against the tree, and slid down with a sigh."Being a tutor is wonderful. Lie down, rest a bit, wake up… earn a hundred thousand ryō."
Asuma froze.
"…What did you just say?"
Yuuma didn't even open his eyes."Why are you yelling? Aren't you going to sleep?"
Asuma grabbed his shoulders and shook him violently."Hold up—one hundred thousand ryō?!"
Yuuma exhaled slowly as if bored by the question."It's the tutoring fee, obviously. Hokage-sama pays high rates. Twenty-five thousand ryō an hour. Four hours a day… one hundred thousand."
"TWENTY-FIVE THOUSAND?!"Asuma's voice cracked.
He only got 50,000 ryō allowance per month, and this guy earned half of that in a single hour.
Yuuma shrugged."You can verify it at the Academy. Ask about Hanyū Yuuma's skill and see if the price makes sense."
Asuma narrowed his eyes."Then how come I've never heard of you?"
"Because I started working after you graduated." Yuuma closed his eyes again, ready to "nap."
Asuma panicked.A tutor worth twenty-five thousand ryō an hour could not be allowed to sleep in the grass.
"D-don't sleep! Let's train!"
Yuuma cracked one eye open.
"Didn't you say you were exhausted? Wanting to sleep is natural."
Asuma realized it—He'd been played.Manipulated like a puppet.
But he couldn't back out, not with that imaginary mountain of money looming over him.
"…I'm fine. Let's just train."
Yuuma stood, dusted his clothes, and smiled with saintlike gentleness.
"Good. Today's target is fifteen minutes on water. I'll provide battlefield conditions as usual."
Which meant:Yuuma would bombard the river with Water Style attacks.
Again.
Asuma trained with a fire burning in his eyes.But today's fuel wasn't rebellion.
It was financial panic.
By evening, he was half-dead, soaked, trembling, and furious.
At dinner, he finally exploded.
"Mom! Dad hired a tutor who costs twenty-five thousand ryō per hour! That's robbery!"
Biwako froze."One hundred thousand ryō for four hours?!"
Sarutobi Hiruzen nearly dropped his chopsticks.
"…Are you talking about Hanyū? His fee is two thousand per hour."
Asuma stared at him like he'd just been stabbed.
"…Two thousand?"
"Of course." Hiruzen frowned. "Who told you twenty-five?"
Asuma slowly set down his bowl.In his mind, a certain blonde, blue-eyed teacher smiled gently.
And Asuma's soul screamed.
Damn you, Hanyū Yuuma!!
The boy devoured dinner in rage, swearing he would never fall for Yuuma's tricks again.
Next week, he would be ready.
Or so he believed.