Iketani Isamu stood behind Kimura Santō, kneading his shoulders like a desperate NPC trying to raise Favorability.
"Santō-san, please… lend me another 80,000 ryō. Just one more time. I'll pay you back when I get my salary."
Kimura narrowed his eyes. Intense flattery always came with a price—usually a high one.
"You borrowed last month too, didn't you?" he sighed.
Isamu laughed awkwardly. "And I paid it back last month too! See? Consistent repayment! That's reliability!"
"So you borrow, repay, then have no money, then borrow again next month?" Kimura stared at him as if watching someone walk willingly into a trap carved for themselves.
Isamu froze. "…Uh."
Aya Ueda watched with the deadpan expression of someone spectating a slow-motion train crash.
"You're embarrassing yourself, Isamu. At this rate, you're basically turning Kimura into an 'Eighty-Thousand-Ryō ATM.'"
He panicked. "No—no, it's not like that! It's just… we're still early in the relationship. I need to show sincerity! I swear I won't borrow next month!"
Kimura finally opened his wallet, pulled out 80,000 ryō, and handed it over.
"I'm holding you to that."
He didn't feel cheated—Isamu always paid back—but enabling him felt like raising a financially reckless pet.
Aya Ueda shook her head. "You're way too optimistic, Kimura. I can already predict next month."
She cleared her throat and imitated Isamu's voice perfectly:
"'Santō-san… please lend me one last time. I swear this month's confession will succeed.'"
Isamu deflated like a popped balloon.
"And seriously," Aya continued, "after two months of dating, if she really liked you, she wouldn't reject ramen dates. Stop burning money like offering candles to the gods."
Then she turned toward Yuuma, who had just entered.
"And why do you keep bothering Teacher Yuuma to cover your classes? Pick a different time for your dates!"
Isamu rubbed his face helplessly. "She said today's the only time she's free… It's embarrassing, I know."
He even tried to substitute for Yuuma once to repay the favor—Yuuma vetoed that instantly.
Yuuma only smiled. "It's fine. I have time anyway, and teaching more students helps me sharpen my skills."
Aya Ueda massaged her temples.
"Teacher Yuuma is too nice. That kindness will come back to bite him someday."
Feeling guilty, Isamu rushed over to pour tea for Yuuma and mutter compliments like a panicked intern trying to repay a debt.
When the clock neared class time, Isamu fled the office to change for his date.
Yuuma watched him leave.
If only Isamu were the physical training instructor for Class 1… then whenever he begged me to substitute, I'd basically be their real P.E. teacher. No suspicion. No strange looks.
But applying directly to the Third Hokage to add more classes would look insane.
People would question his motives.It would break the "quiet, ordinary chunin teacher" persona he had carefully maintained.
Better to let dissatisfaction from students or poor teaching quality force the change naturally.If the village believes the P.E. instructor is stunting physical development, they'll have no choice but to assign someone more capable.
Yuuma returned to polishing his calligraphy until the bell rang.
Class 4-2 — Guest Instructor: Hanyū Yuuma
The students were used to him by now; he came every week.
Obito, also late as usual, burst through the door.
"Teacher, I—"
Yuuma waved him down. "Sit."
Obito grumbled under his breath.
"Ugh… damn Iketani-sensei. Why does he always ask Teacher Yuuma to cover my class period…"
Rin tilted her head. "Did you help an old lady again? That's usually your reason."
"Not today. I was at the bookstore picking pens… lost track of time."
"You could've gone after school. You skipped lunch too, right?"
"It's okay. I'll just eat more tonight. And I've been hopping between shops lately—today's lunch place seemed especially good."
"…What's more important than eating?" Rin sighed. "I have snacks. I'll give you some after class."
Obito nodded gratefully and forced himself to focus.
Forty minutes flew by.
When the bell rang, Rin handed him the snacks—
—and a nearby classmate slapped a hand on Obito's shoulder.
"Hey Obito, how much did you help us today—?"
Obito cut him off instantly.
"How did you know I got first place in the Ninjutsu Tournament over the weekend?"
The boy's mouth snapped shut like a trap.The jealousy was palpable.
Eight. Thousand. Ryō.
Uchiha Tetsuka—not far away—went quiet as well.
He still remembered Obito's monstrous fireball from the tournament.At first, he thought he could counter the Great Dragon Fire with careful prep.
But that fireball…That monstrosity…
It shattered his confidence in a single breath.
Obito basked in the stunned silence, his grin practically glowing.
From that day on, he walked the academy halls during every break, approaching random students with the same question:
"How did you know I got first place?"
He farmed admiration like it was XP.
[System Notice: Lecture Complete][Evaluation: A][Reward Granted: Water Style — Hidden Mist Technique]
Yuuma nodded in satisfaction.
A low-level jutsu, but extremely useful.Even the Sharingan struggled to pierce its haze—Terumi Mei's version could even interfere with the Rinnegan.
For early-game ambush and control, it was perfect.
Southern Forest — Evening Training
As always, Shisui was already there, working silently with his shadow clone while the real body sparred against Yuuma's clone.
Might Guy arrived soon after, energetic as ever.
But Obito…He didn't show.
Not after 5 minutes.Not after 10.Not after 15.
Yuuma frowned.
Obito was unreliable in many ways… but he was never late this long for training.
He needs discipline. If he slacks here, the habit will stick.
Finally—
"Teacher Yuuma! Sorry, I'm late!"
Obito sprinted into the clearing, clutching a long box in both hands.