My Head Itches So Much

Qiushui's voice was unhurried and natural, as if he were simply chatting, yet every point of knowledge was explained with perfect clarity. He would interject with a joke whenever the material grew dry, call on students who were drifting off without ever making them feel embarrassed, and leave ample time for note-taking while he wrote on the blackboard.

The class was both relaxed and pleasant.

Time slipped away without anyone noticing.

By the time the bell rang, the students were startled to realize that class had ended so quickly.

Even more miraculously, despite not having done any rote memorization, they found that a wealth of knowledge had inexplicably taken root in their minds.

"Teacher Qiushui, do you have another class this afternoon?" a student asked expectantly after standing up.

"I don't have a class this afternoon," Qiushui replied with a smile as he packed up his lesson plans.

The student who asked looked disappointed, and the rest of the class mirrored that expression upon hearing his answer.

As Qiushui walked out of the classroom, a notification popped up before his eyes.

[Talent cultivation complete, evaluating the content of the training.]

[Comprehensive Rating: A]

[Obtained Cultivation Reward: Innate Lightning Style Chakra]

The moment he received the reward, Qiushui felt the hair on his skin stand on end. There was a faint sensation of numbness or tingling, much like the static electricity one feels before touching a metal doorknob in the dead of a dry winter, though the effect was magnified countless times over.

Good thing it isn't actual lightning. He felt a wave of relief after noticing his body had only trembled slightly.

If it had been the true power of a Lightning Style ninjutsu, he would likely be lying on the floor convulsing by now.

Qiushui returned to the office that afternoon. Murata Koji said he had an urgent matter to attend to and asked him to cover his class; naturally, Qiushui wouldn't pass up an opportunity to be helpful.

During the third-year, class three session he covered, Qiushui performed a quality check on all the students, only to find that not a single one reached A-grade quality; the highest was merely a B+.

After finishing the afternoon class, the system rewarded him with an Innate Water Style Chakra.

Over the next half-month, Qiushui maintained his usual rhythm. When no one asked him to substitute, he focused on teaching his own class; after school and on days off, he dedicated himself to training Naruto and Hinata. He never turned down a request to cover for other teachers. Every night when he returned home, Yuhi Kurenai would drop by to share a meal, a routine that had gradually become habit.

Perhaps it was because the quality of Qiushui's teaching was truly exceptional, but the students' response was enthusiastic. They kept pestering their original teachers to let Qiushui return for more lessons. Coupled with his willingness to help, other teachers remembered the favor of him covering their classes, and in no time, he had become a hot topic of discussion throughout the school.

In the eyes of the students, attending Qiushui's class was a pure pleasure; in the eyes of his colleagues, he was a kind-hearted partner who never refused a request.

Before he knew it, Qiushui had become the universally acknowledged perfect teacher, possessing both good looks and talent.

Yet Qiushui, the center of all this talk, didn't give it much thought. At this moment, he was looking at Yuhi Kurenai, who had come over for dinner, and wondering what to cook for the evening.

"Qiushui, I'm afraid I have to trouble you to make an extra serving again tonight."

Yuhi Kurenai stood at the doorway, a hint of embarrassment on her face.

At first, she only came every three days.

Then, it became every two days.

By this week, it had turned into a daily occurrence.

Although she knew it wasn't great to keep bothering Qiushui—after all, he had to teach, train students, and cook for himself every day; anyone would find that annoying, right?—but who could blame her when Qiushui's cooking was simply too delicious?

After eating his food, anything else she tried felt like a massive step down.

"It's fine." Qiushui smiled, his tone devoid of any impatience. "Having a beauty like you join me for dinner every day makes all the fatigue from my workday vanish."

Yuhi Kurenai froze for a moment.

Then, the corners of her mouth curled upward uncontrollably.

She was often complimented on her beauty—when she was on missions, walking through the village, or even shopping at stores, there were always eyes lingering on her, and always people approaching to say things they thought sounded charming.

But those words were always the same, and after hearing them so often, she had become numb to them.

Yet, when these words came from Qiushui, it felt completely different. Besides, she was the one coming over to sponge a meal, but the way he put it, it sounded as if she were the one keeping him company.

A strange, sweet sensation bloomed in Yuhi Kurenai's heart. The embarrassment on her face faded, replaced by a light, cheerful smile.

"But the fridge is empty." Qiushui glanced back toward the kitchen. "I need to go out and buy some groceries first."

"Then I'll go with you." Yuhi Kurenai immediately replied.

The evening in Konoha was shrouded in an orange-red glow. Vendors packing up their stalls and villagers returning home walked the streets in twos and threes, while children chased each other past, creating a scene of absolute peace.

Qiushui and Yuhi Kurenai walked side by side down the street.

Qiushui's one-meter-eighty-five frame was lean and upright. Beneath his medium-length white hair was a handsome face that lacked nothing in masculinity, and his icy blue eyes drew people in involuntarily. With his black short-sleeved shirt revealing the smooth, muscular lines of his forearms, he radiated a charming aura like the warm sun on a winter's day.

Yuhi Kurenai walked at his side. She wore a deep red high-collared top and a cream-colored long skirt that swayed gently with her steps. Her exquisite face glowed faintly in the sunset, and her fair, slender legs were visible between the folds of her skirt, drawing the gaze of passersby with every step.

The combination of a handsome man and a beautiful woman walking together instantly became the focus of the crowd.

"Hey, isn't that Jonin Kurenai?" A vegetable vendor by the road set down her scale, her eyes following their retreating figures. "Who is that man with her? He's so handsome!"

"Must be her boyfriend, right?" the stall owner next to her chimed in. "Why else would they be out grocery shopping together?"

"That young man has such a sturdy build. Look at those broad shoulders, that waist..." a middle-aged woman said, her eyes filled with longing.

"He's good-looking, too. Better than those host club boys—no, better than movie stars. Those stars rely on makeup, but he's the real deal," the woman next to her added.

The whispers drifted into their ears.

Qiushui's expression remained unchanged.

He had heard such talk since he was a child and was long since used to it. When he was in school, girls would always steal glances at him, and now that he was a teacher, students often whispered behind his back about how handsome Teacher Qiushui was.

Being watched and being discussed had already become a part of his daily life.