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Chapter 38 Koji’s trouble
🕑 Added 2025-06-09 03:00:06 +0000 UTCKoji groaned as his feet touched the wet moss covering the muddy ground. He instantly leaned against the nearest tree, his arm covering his eyes. “Damn Kuro, why do you have to say something like that? What has gotten into you?” he couldn’t help but complain in a low voice.
Kuro sat next to him, an insufferable smug look on his face, though only an Inuzuka would be able to tell. “Just told you the truth is all.” He barked.
Koji had never been so glad that Kuro couldn’t speak human language yet as he was now. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what would have happened if Yuki understood what he had said up there.
“Fuck.” He groaned and adjusted his pants as they had gotten painfully tight. “Even then, you can’t just say something like that… it would never work, she is from the Hyūga Clan.”
Kuro snorted beside him and gave a lazy flick of his ear. “You say that like it matters.”
Koji sighed again, leaning back against the tree. “It does matter. She’s not just some Hyūga—she’s her. She’s clan-born, high-status. She probably bathes in tradition and chakra scrolls. Meanwhile, I’ve got mud under my nails and smell like a dog.”
“Please, bitches love that smell, trust me.” Kuro said with complete confidence.
“What do you know,” Koji snapped, “You are single, just like me.”
Kuro’s tail gave a slow wag, completely unbothered. “Yeah, but I’m single by choice. You’re just scared.”
Koji groaned again, louder this time, dragging both hands down his face. “You’re supposed to be helping me, not roasting me like a damn rice cracker.”
“I am helping,” Kuro barked lightly. “You’re the one too busy panicking over feelings to do anything.”
Koji opened his mouth, then shut it again. Because, damn it, Kuro was right, he was panicking.
“I don’t even know when it started,” he muttered after a moment. “One day she was just my team leader, bossing me around, looking through everything with those blank white eyes. Next thing I know, I can’t stop watching her ass when she bends over.”
Kuro’s ears perked up. “It is a very nice rear, so pale, so smooth, but full. She has good breeding hips on her, is very young too, and smells super fertile.”
Koji groaned again. Then, he couldn’t help but notice the faint smell in the air. His sensitive nose was easily able to pick up what a normal person never could. And he couldn’t deny at least one thing Kuro was saying, Yuki did smell prime.
Koji buried his face in his hands. “Gods, Kuro, can you not talk like that?”
“What? I’m just saying what I smell,” Kuro said, completely matter-of-fact. “You were thinking it too.”
“No, I wasn’t,” Koji snapped. “Okay, maybe I noticed, but that’s not the point.”
Kuro just gave him a sideways look, as if to say, Sure it’s not.
Koji let out a breath and sat down harder than necessary. The moss squished beneath him, cold and wet, but he barely noticed. “She’s not just... that. She’s more than that. Way more.”
Kuro tilted his head but stayed quiet for once.
“She’s smart,” Koji said, voice lower now. “She sees everything. Not just with those eyes—though yeah, those are intimidating—but with her mind. She's sharp. Always one step ahead. Always knows when we need to rest, when to push, when to pull back.”
His hand rested on his knee, fingers flexing slightly as he stared at the mist.
“She doesn’t act like she’s better than us, even though she probably is. She listens. She jokes. She lets me lead when it matters. And when she talks... it’s not just orders. She talks to us.”
Koji looked over at Kuro. “I’ve never had a team leader like that. I’ve had instructors. Superiors. But never someone like her.”
He hesitated. “And she’s beautiful. Obviously. That’s not even the problem. It’s everything else that makes it worse.”
Kuro’s tail gave a single, slow thump against the moss.
Koji leaned back again, closing his eyes for a second. “I don’t think it’s just a crush anymore.”
Silence stretched between them for a moment. Then Kuro let out a slow, thoughtful noise.
“You’re serious,” the ninken said simply.
Koji nodded.
“Then I’ll hold back with the comments,” Kuro said. “Sort of. Unless she smells even more fertile tomorrow.”
“Please don’t ever say those words again.”
Kuro grinned toothily. “No promises.”
Koji chuckled in spite of himself, but it faded quickly as he looked up toward the trees again, toward where Yuki was, maybe twenty meters above, lying in a tight cluster of branches with the others.
With a sigh, he quickly got to do his own business, nature called, and he had to answer. Though it was far more difficult then normal given how his head was filled the Kuro’s description of Yuki’s ass.
Once done, he quickly got back up to the others and allowed Haruto and Arata to go do their own thing. He honestly didn’t mind the two of them, but the fact that they were so much older than him and Yuki did mean they didn’t have as much to talk about.
They did have some good stories, having been on far more missions than he had, but even still, he couldn’t help but feel the age gap.
“Alright,” Yuki said once those two returned. “Time to get some sleep, which means night watch, anyone want any particular shifts?”
Koji opened his mouth, then paused. He knew what he should say—ask for first shift, get it over with, maybe grab some sleep afterward. But part of him hesitated. He glanced toward Yuki.
She stood with her arms crossed, not in a strict way, just… focused, calm, collected, and sharp. She looked at the rest of them, not at him in particular, but somehow, it still made his chest feel tight.
“I’ll take second,” Koji said, voice a little lower than usual.
Yuki glanced at him and nodded. “Alright, I will take first, then, and Haruto third, and finally,” she stopped there, looking at Arata, who just nodded.
“Understood.”
Yuki gave a sharp nod. “Good. Wake the next in line when it’s their turn. And no slacking.” She said, as she sat down, allowing the others to fall asleep as she used the Byakugan to keep them safe.
And Koji did feel safe, ever since their last mission, when he saw her sacrifice herself for someone else, he felt safe under her watch.
…
“Koji,” A soft voice woke up him.
His training allowed him to wake up quickly, so no sooner had he heard his name and felt a soft touch on his shoulder before his eyes snapped open, wide awake.
Honestly, he was shocked that he hadn’t woken up before she touched him; that was pretty sloppy of him.
Not that he could think about that, because when he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Yuki’s face, right above his own.
Her face was calm, composed as ever, but close—much closer than he was prepared for. Her pale eyes, glowing faintly in the moonlight, stared down at him with quiet focus. Her hand lingered on his shoulder for a second too long before she pulled it back.
“It’s your shift,” she said simply, voice low enough not to wake the others.
Koji nodded quickly, too quickly, and sat up. “Yeah. Got it.”
Yuki stepped back without another word, slipping back to her usual spot with a grace that made no sound at all. Her movements were fluid, precise—like always. He watched her settle against the trunk, cloak wrapped loosely around her, eyes already half-lidded. Within moments, her breathing had softened into a steady, quiet rhythm.
Koji swallowed, then turned and made his way to the edge of their perch.
Kuro followed behind him, barely awake, yawning as he slumped down nearby.
“You gonna keep watch or just stare again?” Kuro asked with a grunt.
“Shut up,” Koji hissed back, but there was no real bite in his voice.
He crouched low, eyes scanning the darkness ahead, but it was no use. He couldn’t focus. Every few seconds, his eyes drifted sideways, always back to her.
She shifted in her sleep—not much, just a slight roll of her shoulders and the subtle rise and fall of her chest. But the way the moonlight caught the edge of her hair as it slipped from her hood made Koji’s stomach twist.
He shook his head hard and looked away.
“This is bad,” he muttered.
“Very,” Kuro replied. “But at least you’re cute when you’re suffering.”
Koji groaned into his palm.
…
The third day started like the last two—with mist, silence, and a creeping sense of routine that was starting to feel like a trap.
Koji stretched his arms above his head, popping his shoulders with a muffled grunt as the sun barely filtered through the canopy. Kuro yawned beside him, tail flicking lazily, ears already up and alert.
Arata adjusted his gear without a word. Haruto sipped cold tea from his flask, somehow managing to look composed despite the grime and fatigue.
And then there was her.
Yuki already looked sharp even if she had only just woken up. Her long hair, which he couldn’t help but want to touch.
She had a kind of grace that none from his clan ever had, nor anyone from the village, it was mesmerizing.
“Same formation as yesterday, Koji, you are in charge, you lead, we follow.” She said as she swept her hair behind her ear.
Koji felt his heart skip a beat at her words. he knew she didn’t mean anything special by them, but hearing her say that, telling him that he was in charge, it did something to him.
“You are staring,” Kuro barked in warning, helping him snap out of it.
Koji blinked, cleared his throat, and gave a small nod. “Right. Yeah. Got it.”
He turned quickly, hoping no one saw the faint flush creeping up his neck, and leapt to the next branch without waiting for confirmation. He heard Kuro sigh behind him, something between exasperation and amusement, before following.
They moved in near silence for the first stretch. Mist hung thick between the trees again, soft and damp like the forest itself hadn’t fully woken up yet. Koji’s steps were steady, his eyes sharp. At least outwardly. Internally?
A mess.
Around midday, they stopped on a broad ridge to check for signs—tracks, chakra trails, disturbed moss. Koji crouched low, sniffing around the base of a twisted tree while Yuki activated her Byakugan a few meters away.
“Nothing,” he reported, not looking back at her. He didn’t trust himself to.
She moved closer. “Agreed. Still no chakra signs, not even residual.”
Her voice was close now. Too close.
He glanced up—just a quick look. Her face was focused, pale eyes scanning the trees ahead, mouth pressed into a faint line of concentration.
She looked incredible.
He quickly looked down at Kuro instead. The ninken was watching him with narrowed eyes.
“Don’t,” Koji warned under his breath.
“I’m just observing,” Kuro muttered. “You're the one who’s starting to smell like nervous adrenaline.”
“Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
Yuki looked briefly at them as she landed lightly on a branch overhead. “Let’s move,” she called back.
Koji didn’t hesitate this time. He moved, and she followed right behind him.
They moved around, and he was honestly impressed at how well he did, even when he kept thinking about her, he never made a mistake. He found every trace of scent, and never took a wrong step.
Maybe it was because he wanted to impress her, but he felt he was doing better than he ever had.
Yet, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t find what wasn’t there, and as the sun slowly started to dip, they still hadn’t found much.
“Another day of nothing, Koji, find us somewhere to rest.” Yuki finally called, bringing the day to an end.
Koji gave a short nod, though inside he winced. Another day of fog, damp leaves, and empty woods. His pride wasn’t hurt—this wasn’t about failure. It was the grind, the endless push forward with nothing to show for it.
But then again, when she said his name like that, calm and commanding, something inside his chest still fluttered.
“On it,” he replied, already scanning the terrain.
Kuro padded up beside him. “You want high ground, low fog cover, and line-of-sight to at least three approaches, right?”
Koji didn’t answer right away. He was crouched beside a moss-covered boulder, sniffing at the base where the wind broke through the ridge. The scent here was stale—there was no human movement. The trees curved naturally above, thick and twisted, and the canopy was dense, not bad.
“Here,” he said after another minute. “East slope’s too narrow to sneak up on. West and north are both climb-heavy, and the roots below form a nice buffer.”
Yuki landed beside him, silent as always. She scanned the space with her Byakugan, then nodded once. “Well chosen.”
Koji swallowed. That tone. Calm. Measured. But to him, it felt like she'd just handed him a medal.
“I try,” he managed, doing his best not to sound like an idiot.
The team settled in quickly. Haruto and Arata took their usual flanks, wordless and methodical. Kuro curled near Koji’s pack, already half asleep. Koji sat down last, watching the fading light filter through the branches above.
He glanced toward Yuki.
She had taken a high branch nearby, resting back against the trunk with her arms loosely crossed and one leg bent slightly at the knee. Slowly eating her own tasteless ration bar.
But then she glanced his way. Just for a moment. Their eyes met.
She didn’t say anything. But held the gaze, and then she smiled at him.
Then she looked away.
Koji felt something twist in his chest. Hope? Panic? Both?
“Okay,” he whispered, mostly to himself. “Maybe I am in trouble.”
From the ground beside him, Kuro huffed. “That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all day.”
“Alright, Kuro, if you will.” Yuki called.
Kuro stood up, “Well, if you will excuse me, I’m gonna take a look at what you can only dream about,” he said before jumping down after Yuki. And Koji was left speechless.
(End of chapter)
Another look at Koji, I like the Inuzuka clan and their dogs, I like the idea of the bond between their dogs. Here, since it's from Koji's perspective, we get to hear what Kuro is saying.
How do their ninken learn to speak? What are the rules behind that? I don’t know, so I will make shit up. But one thing is for sure, the Inuzuka can understand their dogs long before they learn to speak human speak.
