Part Time Teacher in Konoha

Uchiha Clan Compound

"I'm home, Mom!"

Uchiha Sasuke called out while taking off his shoes.

"Welcome back, Sasuke," his mother, Uchiha Mikoto, replied gently.

"Where's Brother?"

Sasuke hurried into the living room, unable to wait.

"Why do you always ask for your brother the moment you walk in?"

Mikoto laughed, reaching out to pat his head.

"I have important business with him!"

Sasuke pouted, stressing his point.

"Your brother isn't home yet."

Seeing how cute he looked, Mikoto's smile grew even warmer.

"Then I'll wait for him."

Sasuke sat down on the sofa.

"I'll start dinner."

Mikoto took a few steps, suddenly remembered something, and turned back.

"Didn't you start school today? How was it?"

"It felt like kids playing at being ninja—pretty boring."

Sasuke said proudly, "I'm going to be top of the Academy just like my brother!"

"Good luck!"

Mikoto pumped a fist encouragingly.

Moments later, the door opened.

"Brother!"

Sasuke jumped up and ran to the entrance.

"Sasuke."

Uchiha Itachi greeted him with a gentle smile.

"Is our Uchiha clan not as strong as it used to be?"

Sasuke asked outright.

"…"

Itachi opened his mouth, then fell silent.

Even Sasuke has sensed it? The Uchiha really are at a life‑and‑death turning point.

"In history class today, the teacher told the story of Konoha's founding,"

Sasuke said in awe. "Back then the Uchiha were as highly respected as the Senju."

So that's what prompted him.

Relief flashed across Itachi's face—he didn't want Sasuke dragged into the clan's conflict with the village.

"That teacher's good—most wouldn't even mention Uchiha history."

Itachi smiled.

"Why do you say that?"

Sasuke asked, puzzled.

He had no idea the clan was almost a public enemy now; most Academy instructors glossed over that period.

"It's nothing."

Itachi shook his head.

"Will the Uchiha ever return to what we were?"

Sasuke asked expectantly.

"We will," Itachi said firmly.

"Of course—because I've got you!"

Sasuke beamed. "With Brother around, our future's bound to be brighter."

"…Yeah."

Caught off guard, Itachi nodded. "I'll put the clan back on the right path."

…

Night deepened.

Two figures walked the empty streets of Konoha.

"Y‑you're… you're drunk again—such a lightweight!"

Yūhi Kurenai's pretty face was red as a peach blossom.

"You're the one who's drunk, not me,"

Kitazawa corrected her.

He had one bottle; she'd had three.

"T‑then why's your face red?"

Kurenai swayed, laughing.

"Careful."

Kitazawa stepped forward and steadied her by the waist.

"I‑I'm fine."

Kurenai naturally leaned into his arms.

The mix of alcohol and her fragrance rose between them; Kitazawa instinctively looked down.

They were very close—he could clearly see the curve of her fair neck and the mesh underlayer at her collar.

"W‑we're here. Next time… I'm buying."

Kurenai patted his chest and suddenly giggled. "Pretty solid build."

"Looks like you really are drunk. Need me to see you inside?"

Kitazawa asked with a crooked smile.

"I'm not drunk!"

Kurenai snapped back on reflex. "If you don't believe me, come in—we'll keep drinking!"

"Alright, alright, you're not drunk."

Kitazawa soothed her like a child.

"Hmph!"

Kurenai took out her key and opened the door.

Under the dim light, her perfect figure was silhouetted.

"Kitazawa," she said, cheek against the door, smiling, "see you tomorrow."

"Mm."

He nodded. When the door closed, he turned to leave.

Soon he reached his own place.

Ichiraku Ramen down the street was still busy, steam rising as customers came and went.

Kitazawa glanced over, then looked away.

His home was a two‑story wooden building:

The first floor, a general store selling everything from cooking oil and rice to snacks and soda.

The second floor, his living space—bedroom, bath, and kitchen; small but complete.

Having drunk, he skipped opening the shop, showered, and went to bed.

…

The Next Morning

A knock sounded.

Kitazawa sat up, head throbbing.

After dressing, he wondered who would come this early and opened the door.

Yūhi Kurenai stood there, bright and lively. Before he could speak, she thrust breakfast into his hands.

"I bought this while fighting a hangover headache," she grinned. "Show some gratitude, old classmate!"

In truth she was thanking him for getting her home safely.

"Thanks," Kitazawa said, taking it. "Have you eaten?"

"I have. I'm heading to the Kurama compound now," Kurenai paused. "One of my students is Kurama Yakumo, the clan heiress."

"I've heard of them—at their peak their genjutsu rivaled the Uchiha's," Kitazawa noted, glancing at the simple bread‑and‑milk breakfast.

"Yep, that clan."

Kurenai flipped her long black hair. "I'm off—time to try out your teaching tips."

"Definitely a fine woman," Kitazawa murmured as she walked away.

He suddenly recalled a line from urban novels in his previous life: Never miss a good woman, never spare a bad one.

After breakfast he headed to the classroom.

As yesterday, coming early meant few students were there—but Hyūga Hinata already sat inside, disciplined and punctual.

One thing had changed: today Hinata greeted him first.

"K‑Kitazawa‑sensei," she mustered the courage to call.

Kitazawa's eyes fell on her face.

Under his gaze, Hinata flustered—brushing her hair aside, gripping her sleeve, cheeks reddening.

"Good morning, Hinata," Kitazawa chuckled at her reactions.

What an amusing little girl.