Naruto: The Shameless Uchiha Tycoon

Ren left the hospital with Kurenai’s note already folded into his jacket pocket.

He headed straight across the village toward the Civilian Academy, leaving the illuminated main street for the quieter alleys along its eastern perimeter.

He found Kurenai crouched beneath an overhanging roof across the street from the academy’s east-side service entrance.

Ren slipped into the narrow space beside her.

”He’s back,” Kurenai murmured, keeping her eyes fixed on the street.

”The same one?” Ren asked quietly.

”If he isn’t, he’s the unluckiest pedestrian in Konoha,” Kurenai said. ”He matches the general height and build the instructors reported, and he’s definitely still using low-level genjutsu to blur his face. But tonight, he isn’t just walking past.”

She pointed toward a cluster of merchant crates near the academy’s outer wall. ”He’s been lingering there for twenty minutes. Waiting.”

”For what?”

”For the patrol rotation to look weak,” Kurenai explained. ”I deliberately left a fifteen-minute gap in the exterior guard schedule near the service door. My trap is waiting right in the middle of it.”

The space beneath the overhang was confined. As Ren shifted slightly to get a better view, he ended up pressed directly against her side. His hand settled naturally onto the curve of her hip to brace himself.

Kurenai didn’t move her eyes from the street. ”Your hand is wandering again.”

”We’re in a confined surveillance position,” Ren replied seamlessly.

”Of course,” Kurenai said.

She shifted her weight, deliberately pressing closer against his palm anyway.

Ten minutes later, the academy guard passed the eastern entrance and turned the corner, creating the scheduled gap in coverage.

The shadow near the merchant crates finally moved.

He tested the service door, checked the courtyard sightlines, and deliberately snapped a twig beneath his boot. An internal guard appeared less than half a minute later. The observer watched him return to his post before continuing toward the wall.

Ren’s eyes narrowed. The man hadn’t tried to get inside. He was timing how the guards responded.

The observer finished his sweep and began backing toward the perimeter wall, evidently satisfied with the information he had gathered.

”Now,” Kurenai said.

She closed the trap.

The genjutsu barrier surrounding the service entrance flared, shifting the air itself into a disorienting, mirrored maze designed to throw any intruder off balance. Kurenai vaulted over the low railing and dropped into the street, moving with lethal precision.

The observer’s hands blurred through three rapid signs. A second genjutsu snapped into place, sending two false silhouettes running in opposite directions.

Ren dropped into the street a second later, ready to cut off the escape route.

Kurenai didn’t hesitate. Her eyes tracked neither fleeing silhouette. She pivoted toward the empty space between them and intercepted the real scout before he reached the wall.

The scout blocked her first strike and barely turned aside the second. His counter missed as Kurenai slipped beneath it, caught his arm, and drove a knee into his ribs.

He staggered toward the wall.

Before Kurenai could secure the lock and take him down completely, the scout dropped a prepared flash tag directly at his own feet.

The blinding burst of white light forced Kurenai to break her grip and shield her eyes. By the time Ren’s vision cleared, the observer was already vaulting the academy’s outer wall.

Ren took one step toward the wall, then stopped. He still didn’t know whether the scout had come alone. Chasing him blind meant abandoning the academy perimeter.

Ren stayed.

Kurenai cursed under her breath, staring at the empty top of the wall.

”He dropped something,” Ren said, pointing to the cobblestones near where the flash tag had detonated.

Kurenai walked over and picked up a piece of folded, heavy parchment. She opened it under the dim street lamp.

It was a hand-drawn sketch of the Civilian Academy. Several older guard patrol patterns were clearly marked in black ink, while tonight’s deliberately altered route had been hastily sketched in charcoal over the top.

There was no signature or identifying mark.

Ren and Kurenai moved into an empty staff room inside the administrative building, locking the door behind them and pulling the blinds before lighting a single desk lamp.

Kurenai spread the recovered sketch across the wooden desk and compared it with her actual security notes.

”We had him,” Kurenai muttered, leaning over the paper.

”He came here to learn our patrols,” Ren said. ”Instead, he confirmed that we can catch him.”

Kurenai stared at the map for another second before leaning back against the desk. ”I still wanted him in a cell.”

”You nearly had him,” Ren pointed out.

”Nearly doesn’t interrogate well,” Kurenai said.

Ren stepped closer. ”Was the changing-face trick strong enough to fool you completely?”

”No,” Kurenai said, shaking her head. ”The technique wasn’t sophisticated. It was designed to make different civilian witnesses remember slightly different details, which is why nobody could give us a consistent description all week.”

A streak of dirt crossed Kurenai’s cheek, with a shallow scrape near her cheekbone from the fight outside.

He reached up without thinking and gently wiped the dirt away with his thumb, checking the cut.

Kurenai caught his wrist.

She didn’t pull his hand away. She kept her grip on his wrist, meeting his eyes evenly in the dim light of the staff room.

”You touch me a lot for a man who hired me to guard a school,” Kurenai noted.

Ren didn’t pull back. ”You’ve never filed a complaint.”

”Maybe I was waiting to see how far you’d go,” Kurenai said.

Her fingers slid from his wrist to the front of his jacket. Then she pulled him down and kissed him.

Ren kissed her back, his hands settling at her waist as she pulled him closer against the edge of the desk. Kurenai’s grip loosened on his jacket but didn’t leave it.

When she finally drew back, she stayed close enough that her breath still touched his mouth.

”Now you know,” Kurenai said simply.

”I suspected,” Ren admitted, keeping his hands on her waist.

Kurenai gave him a dry smile. ”Don’t ruin it.”

Kurenai stepped back and tapped two marks on the patrol sketch still resting on the desk.

”Look here.” Kurenai tapped three marked routes. ”He’s been watching us longer than the witnesses realized. I want the external guards changed again, and I want your corporate security people checking their side too. Staff schedules, deliveries, service entrances, guard hiring—anything someone’s been asking about.”

”I’ll bring Pakura tomorrow,” Ren agreed. ”She handles the external security for the commercial operation. She can cross-reference the inquiries.”

Kurenai nodded, satisfied.

As Ren turned toward the door, Kurenai caught his sleeve and pulled him back.

The second kiss was shorter.

”Send Pakura tomorrow,” she said when she released him. ”I want to know whether this started outside my walls.”

Ren glanced down at the folded patrol sketch in his hand.

”I’ll bring her myself.”