Qingyu felt the suspicious glares of the crowd prickling his skin. It was beyond awkward—it was an all-out social catastrophe. The whispers were shifting from confusion to a subtle, pitying judgment, as if they were collectively watching a village idiot fail at life.
At this moment, Qingyu finally understood a term he had never taken seriously before: Social Suicide.
I should have changed the name, he thought bitterly. Why did I have to stick with Minato?
But he was stuck! He didn't know many people in the shinobi world, and he couldn't just pull a random name out of a hat—it had to be someone real enough for his "Yo!" greeting to look like a genuine mistake. Plus, since he'd been looking for Minato all morning, he couldn't suddenly switch to a different target without looking even more insane.
He never expected a group of mischievous kids would actually go and fetch the real deal!
"Qingyu! I heard you've been looking for me all over the village. Is everything okay? Did something happen?"
Minato walked up with his usual warmth and enthusiasm. That opening line was the final nail in the coffin, making Qingyu's already desperate situation feel like an interrogation in front of a live audience.
"No... no... let's just... go somewhere else to talk!"
Qingyu started to say nothing was wrong, but realized that would only make him look like a bigger creep to the onlookers. He pivoted immediately, grabbing Minato by the elbow and dragging him away from the center of the square.
"Hey! Why aren't you patting his head?"
A voice rang out from the crowd—sharp and skeptical.
"Yeah! Why'd you stop now?" "You seemed pretty comfortable hitting us!" "I'm starting to think you were just looking for a fight!" "Can't you tell the difference between yellow hair and black hair? Are you blind?" "Kid, don't let me catch you on my street again!"
The protests erupted. These were the people Qingyu had "mistakenly" patted, and seeing the vibrant yellow hair of the actual Minato made them feel like they'd been played.
Qingyu kept his head down and said nothing. He just pulled Minato harder. Too dangerous. Must evacuate immediately!
Smack!
Suddenly, Qingyu felt a light pat on his own head. The culprit? Minato.
"What were they talking about? Patting heads... like this?" Minato asked, his blue eyes filled with genuine confusion.
"Something like that..." Qingyu muttered.
"Then why didn't you pat mine?" Minato pressed.
"Because... I recognized you, obviously," Qingyu gave a strained, awkward laugh.
"It's okay if you did!" Minato tilted his head, smiling brightly. "Why don't you pat my head now? Maybe then they won't be so angry."
"No, no, absolutely not!" Qingyu shook his head violently.
"Why?" Minato was now genuinely curious.
"The time isn't right yet," Qingyu said, pulling Minato into a quieter alleyway where the atmosphere was much calmer.
"When will the time be right?" Minato wasn't letting it go.
"Minato, listen," Qingyu said, his face becoming deadly serious. He had to stop the "Minato-patting" strategy immediately before he blew his cover entirely. "The day you become the Fourth Hokage... on that day, I will personally come and pat your head."
"Then why did you pat all those other people while calling them me?"
"Shh!"
Qingyu pressed his index finger to his lips, signaling for absolute silence. This gesture immediately piqued Minato's curiosity to its limit.
"Minato... let me explain. I'm on a Secret Mission."
"A secret mission?"
"Yes. I'm searching for potential spies hidden within the village. Using your name was just a cover—a way to get close and check people's reactions without raising suspicion. Do you really think I'm so stupid that I can't tell the difference between your hair and theirs?"
Qingyu spun the lie with practiced ease. His months in the Torture Force reading the memories of master liars and double agents had finally paid off.
"Oh! So that's it..."
Light dawned on Minato's face. He had been worried that Qingyu's "illness" had spread to his brain, causing hallucinations or vision loss. It made sense now—an Anbu-related task.
"Wait... so you weren't actually looking for me?" Minato blinked, a flash of playful disappointment crossing his blue eyes. "I guess the joke's on me!"
"Thank you for helping me get this leave, by the way," Qingyu said, steering the conversation back to safer ground. He didn't know the specifics, but he was certain Minato had put in a good word with the Third Hokage; otherwise, Eaton wouldn't have been so generous with the time off.
"Don't be so formal with me," Minato smiled, his expression radiant. Then, his smile faltered. "Wait! If we agreed you were taking a vacation to rest, why are you out here performing secret missions? Can't someone else do that? What is going on with the Torture Force? Don't they ever let people sleep?"
"Shh!" Qingyu made the silence gesture again, leaning in close. "Secret mission. It has to stay secret."
"Secret or not, it's not right!" Minato looked deeply concerned. He gripped Qingyu's shoulders, his tone firm. "I know you love this village, but you need to take care of yourself. Working this hard while you're supposed to be recovering isn't good for you."
"I know, I know..."
Qingyu could feel the sincerity in Minato's grip. He hadn't intended to look like a "workaholic hero," but once again, he had accidentally reinforced his image as a dedicated patriot in Minato's eyes.
"Qingyu, a lot has happened in the village lately. I want you to promise me: stay out of it. Just relax and enjoy your time off. Don't be so stubborn. Take my advice, okay?"
"Fine... okay," Qingyu nodded. He didn't actually have a mission, and since he wanted to maintain this valuable friendship, it was best to go along with Minato's protective streak.
"That's more like it!" Minato's sunshine smile returned. "I don't have any missions today, and you're officially on leave. Let's go get some Ichiraku Ramen!"
"Oh, and one more thing," Minato added, already dragging Qingyu toward the shop. "You're paying!"