Chapter 21: Chapter 21

“Did I wake you?” Kitazawa asked, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“No, I was just about to have breakfast,” Kurenai replied with a gentle shake of her head. “Have you eaten? If not, I can whip up some scrambled eggs for you.”

“No need,” Kitazawa said. “I always have breakfast at Ichiraku Ramen.”

“Oh, that’s right—Ichiraku is practically next door to your place. How convenient.” Kurenai chuckled, her laughter light and melodic. “Well, wait for me just a few minutes.”

She turned away, her bare feet making soft sounds on the carpet as she walked toward the living room. Her hips swayed slightly with each step.

“There’s not much to drink here,” Kurenai said as she poured a glass of water. “I hope this will do.”

“Thanks,” Kitazawa said, accepting the glass.

Kurenai carried her breakfast to the table and began eating with quick, graceful movements.

After finishing her meal, she emerged in her usual attire: a fitted white outfit with a vivid red sleeve on the right arm, and bandages wrapped around her thighs, highlighting her slender, fair legs.

At the entrance, she paused to put on her sandals. She bent forward, one hand braced on the wall, her smooth foot lifted slightly, revealing the gentle curve of a taut calf.

Her toes pressed together as she slid them into her ninja sandals. Once they were on, she tapped her feet on the floor twice, making the soft flesh of her legs ripple slightly.

“What are you staring at?” Kurenai asked with a sly smile, catching Kitazawa’s gaze as she finished putting on her sandals.

“Just enjoying the scenery,” Kitazawa replied, blinking innocently.

“And where exactly is this scenery you’re talking about?” Kurenai demanded as she locked the door and stepped past him, carrying a fresh, delicate fragrance.

“Anywhere a beautiful woman stands—that’s where the scenery is,” Kitazawa said solemnly.

Kurenai rolled her eyes at him. It was the first time she’d ever heard someone make peeking sound so poetic.

“Since you’re being so flattering, I’ll let it slide this time,” she said, then shifted to business. “So, do you think you can convince Yakumo’s parents?”

Kitazawa shrugged. “Not really. I’ve never even met them. How could I be confident?”

“Her father is Murakumo Kurama, and her mother is Uroko Kurama,” Kurenai explained as they walked through the streets. “They’re both Jōnin, but neither has a Kekkei Genkai. Yakumo’s the only one in the Kurama Clan who’s awakened a bloodline ability.”

“So she’s basically the clan’s only hope?” Kitazawa mused.

“Exactly,” Kurenai said. “That’s probably why she’s so determined to become a ninja—she feels the weight of the entire clan’s expectations.”

“She’s a good kid,” Kitazawa remarked.

A pang of sadness flickered through him. Yakumo’s fate in the original timeline had been tragic. Driven by grief and anger, she had unleashed Ido—a terrifying monster born from her own Yin Release powers—that ultimately killed her parents. If it hadn’t been for Naruto’s intervention, even Kurenai might not have survived.

“This is Satomioka Villa, where Yakumo’s recovering,” Kurenai said, stopping in front of a grand estate surrounded by spacious courtyards.

Kitazawa took in the view, silently thinking, ’This clan’s loaded.’

“Let’s go find Yakumo first,” Kurenai continued. “She’s probably painting on the hillside behind the villa around this time.”

“Got it,” Kitazawa said. He knew full well that Yakumo Kurama’s art wasn’t just art. Her bloodline limit let her turn her paintings into reality itself.

If she painted a lightning bolt striking the Hokage Monument, an actual lightning bolt would come crashing down.

Guided by Kurenai, Kitazawa soon spotted Yakumo.

She sat before an easel on a gentle slope, brush in hand, focused intently on the canvas as she captured the scene before her.

“I’ll go talk to her,” Kitazawa said, stepping forward.

Kurenai nodded and stayed back a short distance.

Kitazawa watched Yakumo’s painting for a few moments.

“Why’s it raining in your painting?” he finally asked.

The sky overhead was perfectly clear, not a cloud in sight. Yet on Yakumo’s canvas, rain fell steadily in gray sheets.

A thought flickered through Kitazawa’s mind: ’Analyze the role of the weather in this scene.’

“Who are you?” Yakumo suddenly turned and asked, eyeing him cautiously.

“I’m Kitazawa, a sensei at the Ninja Academy,” he replied with a gentle smile.

Yakumo’s eyes widened. “Have my parents agreed to let me go to the Academy?” she blurted, almost dropping her paintbrush in her excitement.

Kitazawa didn’t answer her directly. Instead, he tilted his head and asked, “Do you really want to go to the academy that much?”

“Yes!” Yakumo nodded emphatically. “I want to become a ninja!”

“If that’s what you want… then go for it,” Kitazawa said softly.

But Yakumo’s bright expression quickly faded. “My body’s too weak. I can barely breathe after a short training session… let alone fight like a ninja.”

“Who told you that being a ninja means you have to have a body stronger than everyone else’s?” Kitazawa countered.

“Huh?” Yakumo blinked, thrown off. “Aren’t all ninja supposed to be strong physically?”

In her mind, whether it was Genjutsu users or Taijutsu specialists, even Medical Ninja—they all seemed tough and capable of handling themselves in combat.

“Ordinarily, yes. But there’s always room for something new,” Kitazawa said calmly. “A ninja once said, ’There was originally no road on the ground, but as people walk it, a path appears.’”

“Do you really think… I could do that?” Yakumo asked, her voice small and uncertain.

Kitazawa smiled gently. “Are you planning to give up just because it’s hard?”

“No!” Yakumo clenched her fists, determination flashing in her eyes. “I’m going to become a ninja no matter what!”

“Good. That’s the spirit,” Kitazawa said approvingly. Then he added, “You might not become an ordinary Genjutsu user… but you could become a special Genjutsu ninja.”

“Special?” Yakumo tilted her head, curiosity replacing her earlier doubt.

“Most Genjutsu users target the five senses—sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch,” Kitazawa explained. “That means their fights often turn intense and physical, so they still need strong bodies.”

Yakumo went quiet. That was exactly why she’d given up hope of becoming a typical ninja.

But Kitazawa’s eyes glinted. “There’s another kind of Genjutsu—a kind that doesn’t target the senses, but attacks the mind directly.”

“…What?” Yakumo blinked in confusion, words catching in her throat.

Standing a little behind them, Kurenai frowned slightly. She’d taught Yakumo some Genjutsu already, but she’d never heard of anything bypassing the senses entirely.

In the traditional understanding, even Genjutsu that affected the mind still relied on sensory input as the entry point. Without it, Genjutsu supposedly couldn’t exist.

“Other ninja can’t do it,” Kitazawa continued, as if reading Yakumo’s thoughts, “but you can—because your yin chakra potential is extraordinary.”

Realization dawned in Kurenai’s eyes. Of course.

Yin Release was the power of the mind.

Yakumo’s mental energy was so strong, she could manifest Ido—a terrifying creature made of pure Yin Release. If she could harness that same force, she could turn it into a weapon or even a means of healing.

Kurenai realized she’d simply been trapped in the conventional thinking of a ninja.

“Me?” Yakumo whispered, stunned.

“Not only that,” Kitazawa added with a faint smile, “but you could even become Konoha’s first Psychological Medical Ninja—someone who heals mental trauma.”

In modern terms, he thought, Yakumo could become something like a spiritual healer—a practitioner specializing in mental energy.

And in a flash, Kitazawa thought of Tsunade’s hemophobia.

If Yakumo could someday help cure her, it would be a monumental achievement. Plus, he might be able to score a few high-level jutsu from Tsunade in gratitude—an excellent cover for the ninjutsu granted to him by the system.

“Psychological Medical Ninja…” Yakumo murmured, the words rolling off her tongue as though tasting an entirely new possibility.

The frustration and hopelessness she’d carried melted away, replaced by wonder. For the first time, she saw a world where she didn’t have to choose between being a ninja and being herself.

Kurenai parted her lips slightly, her crimson eyes wide as she looked at Kitazawa.

She’d never heard of a “Psychological Medical Ninja” before… but the more she thought about it, the more it made perfect sense.

During the Third Ninja World War, countless ninja had suffered mental scars. If someone like Yakumo could exist—someone who could truly heal the mind—she could ease an enormous amount of suffering.

And perhaps… redefine what it meant to be a ninja altogether.

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