Naruto: The Shameless Uchiha Tycoon

Itachi entered the main room before sunrise, expecting to leave without waking anyone.

Instead, he found the entire family awake.

Mikoto was moving smoothly through the kitchen, having already prepared enough food to supply a four-man cell on a week-long border mission. Fugaku was already seated at the low table with a cup of hot tea, looking as though being awake before sunrise was perfectly ordinary for him. Sasuke was wide awake in Mikoto’s arms, chewing happily on a wooden ring.

Ren was leaning against the doorframe, having walked over from his residence in the commercial district specifically to see Itachi leave.

Itachi looked at the heavy stack of packed lunch containers sitting on the counter.

”I will be inside the village,” Itachi pointed out gently.

Mikoto calmly placed another wrapped container onto the stack. ”Shinobi say that before returning two days later without eating.”

Ren stepped forward and picked up one of the wooden boxes, testing its weight. ”This one could feed Shisui too.”

”That one is for Shisui,” Mikoto corrected without missing a beat.

Fugaku set his tea aside and walked over to Itachi.

”Listen to Shisui,” Fugaku instructed, his voice quiet and firm. ”Don’t rush merely to prove yourself. Complete your assignment properly and come home when the work is finished.”

As he spoke, Fugaku noticed that one strap on Itachi’s usual forearm guard was twisted. He reached out, unfastened the buckle, and pulled it tight himself.

”ANBU will issue the uniform,” Itachi noted.

”Then ANBU should learn how to fit a uniform properly,” Fugaku replied.

Ren walked over and handed Itachi a narrow, carefully wrapped package. Inside lay a high-quality maintenance cloth and a small bottle of premium oil for the short sword he was about to receive.

”Try not to lose it,” Ren said.

”The sword?” Itachi asked.

”The cloth. It cost more.”

Itachi looked at the small square of fabric. He knew Ren was lying, but he tucked it carefully into his pouch anyway.

Before he could step out the door, Mikoto walked over and lowered Sasuke toward him. Sasuke immediately shot his hand out, caught Itachi’s index finger in a tiny, iron-clad grip, and absolutely refused to release it.

”You’ve been captured before reaching ANBU headquarters,” Ren noted from the doorway.

It took a minute of gentle negotiation before Itachi finally managed to extract his finger, secure his gear, and escape the house carrying far too much food.

Itachi reached the administrative entrance fifteen minutes early.

Shisui arrived a few minutes later, eating a rice ball as he walked. He stopped beside Itachi and immediately noticed the large cloth bag slung over his shoulder.

”Your mother remembered me.”

”One of them is apparently yours,” Itachi confirmed.

Shisui grinned, taking the offered box. ”This is already the best assignment I’ve received this month.”

The ANBU headquarters was far less mysterious inside than it appeared from the village.

One operative was arguing with a logistics clerk over damaged climbing wire. Another had finished the night shift and fallen asleep with his head on a desk. Near the equipment counter, the quartermaster was demanding to know what Shisui had done with his latest requisition form.

Shisui quietly guided Itachi toward the locker room before the quartermaster noticed him.

Itachi received standard ANBU clothing, a set of arm guards, a short sword, a locker assignment, and a plain temporary cat mask with narrow eyeholes and two simple red markings.

Shisui helped him adjust the new uniform in the locker room. Itachi pulled the side straps of the fitted chest armor too tight.

”You need to breathe during missions,” Shisui pointed out, loosening one of the side straps.

”I can breathe.”

”You sound exactly like your father.”

He adjusted the strap and attached the temporary mask to his belt.

Itachi straightened when Hiruzen entered the briefing room.

The Hokage handed Shisui a small, single-page mission slip. A merchant contracted to supply preserved food to Konoha’s patrol posts had reported repeated thefts from one of his warehouses.

The missing dried fish was barely worth an ANBU report. The problem was the warehouse itself. It supplied several patrol posts, yet every door remained locked, none of the warning seals had activated, and the thief had entered three times without leaving a trace.

Shisui read the slip and looked at Itachi. ”Your first classified mission involves missing dried fish.”

Itachi looked directly at the Hokage.

Hiruzen kept a perfectly straight face. ”Konoha’s security depends on it.”

An hour later, they were crouched on a rooftop overlooking the target warehouse.

Shisui leaned against a chimney, explaining practical ANBU field rules casually. ”Watch before acting. Identify everyone involved. Confirm whether the obvious suspect is actually responsible. And do not use a fireball inside a warehouse full of flammable merchandise.”

Itachi looked at him. ”Has someone previously done that?”

”I refuse to name names,” Shisui said, looking away.

Down below, the warehouse owner suspected one of his own workers. The worker certainly behaved suspiciously. He repeatedly checked the alley, left the side window unlatched, and placed a small bundle of dried fish directly beneath it. Before walking away, he stretched a thin tripwire across the inner frame.

Itachi initially assumed the man was an accomplice helping the thief gain access.

He watched the window for another hour. As the sun shifted, Itachi noticed the faint glint of a tripwire near the unlocked latch. The worker wasn’t an accomplice; he was setting a clumsy trap of his own because the owner had accused him.

Ten minutes later, the real thief arrived.

A large, scruffy stray cat jumped onto the windowsill. It paused, sniffed the air, and carefully stepped entirely over the hidden tripwire before slipping inside.

Itachi dropped silently from the roof, slipping through the window right behind it.

He cornered the animal near the back wall. As he stepped forward, the weak transformation broke in an uneven puff of smoke. The ”cat” was a thin boy wearing worn shinobi sandals and a scratched forehead protector bearing the faded symbol of a minor village Itachi did not recognize.

The boy panicked. He spun around and hurled three poor-quality shuriken directly at Itachi’s head.

Itachi didn’t draw his sword. He caught the first two shuriken by the rings and knocked the third away with a flick of his wrist. The boy glanced toward the open window before shifting his weight.

Itachi moved first, stepping into the escape route and catching his wrist before he could throw another shuriken. A quick turn forced the boy against the crates without injuring him.

Itachi looked at the trembling boy.

”When did you last eat something that wasn’t stolen?” Itachi asked.

The boy refused to answer, but his violently rumbling stomach answered for him.

The window creaked open. Shisui dropped lightly onto the floorboards, holding one of Mikoto’s heavy food boxes in his hand.

”Good thing your mother expects every mission to contain starving people,” Shisui said.

They sat the boy down on a crate and fed him before taking him into custody.

During the afternoon debrief in the Hokage’s office, Hiruzen reviewed the preliminary report.

”Why did you enter the warehouse instead of signalling Shisui first?” Hiruzen asked.

”The thief had already avoided the worker’s trap. If I waited, he might have noticed us and escaped through another exit. Shisui was close enough to intervene if I was wrong.”

”And why didn’t you draw your sword after the transformation failed?”

”He was frightened, hungry, and already looking for an escape. The shuriken were meant to create distance.”

Hiruzen nodded in approval.

”He also protected the warehouse merchandise,” Shisui added, crossing his arms. ”Unlike certain ANBU members who use fire techniques indoors.”

Hiruzen stopped reading and stared at Shisui.

Shisui suddenly became immensely interested in the ceiling architecture.

Hiruzen confirmed that Itachi’s evaluation would continue under Shisui. He handed the report to an officer.

”Have the hospital examine him, confirm his identity, and find out whether anyone followed him into Fire Country. Keep him in supervised shelter until we know where he came from.”

As they stepped out of the Hokage’s office, a clerk approached Itachi.

”A message arrived from the Uchiha compound asking when you were expected home.”

Shisui glanced at the time written on the message. ”Your father lasted almost three hours before asking. Very restrained.”

”He wanted to know whether the mission was finished,” Itachi said.

”Of course,” Shisui replied. ”That must be why the message asks when you are expected home.”

”Keep telling yourself that.”

Itachi had changed back into his ordinary shinobi clothes before leaving the administrative building. The temporary mask remained wrapped inside a plain equipment pouch.

He returned to the Uchiha estate just before dinner. The family was waiting in the main room.

Ren arrived shortly before dinner after receiving Mikoto’s invitation that afternoon.

Fugaku sat near the head of the table, his posture relaxed.

”Did the first day go well?” Fugaku asked.

”Yes,” Itachi answered.

”Was Shisui useful?”

”Occasionally.”

Shisui, who had happily followed Itachi home because Mikoto promised a full dinner, looked highly offended. ”I taught you everything you know about stealing lunches during surveillance.”

Mikoto ignored Shisui, carefully checking Itachi’s arms and shoulders for injuries despite his quiet insistence that there were none.

”Izumi stopped by earlier,” Mikoto added. ”She left something on your desk.”

Itachi nodded, pretending not to notice Ren’s immediate interest.

Before sitting down, Itachi removed the temporary mask from its pouch and placed it beside him on the low table.

Ren studied it. ”That mask is disappointing.”

”It’s temporary.”

”Good. You look like an angry house cat.”

Shisui leaned over and studied the painted markings. ”I was thinking constipated fox.”

Itachi calmly turned the mask face down. Fugaku took a slow sip of his tea, deliberately hiding a small smile behind the ceramic rim.

The family ate together while Shisui exaggerated the harmless parts of the warehouse mission that he was allowed to mention. He described the starving runaway as a terrifying criminal mastermind, and the dried fish as highly volatile, incredibly valuable village assets.

Itachi quietly corrected every single factual error, until Mikoto finally told both of them to stop talking and eat their food.

After dinner, the house grew quiet.

Itachi returned to his bedroom and found a small, neatly folded note resting on his desk. It was from Izumi, asking how his first day at his new assignment had gone.

He sat down, pulled out a clean sheet of paper, and picked up his pen.

My first assignment involved a warehouse—

Itachi stopped.

After a moment, he crossed out the sentence and began again.

My first day went well. Shisui stole part of my lunch.

Downstairs, Shisui loudly denied the accusation while Mikoto told him to stop complaining and finish the second serving she had just given him.

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