(PROFESSOR UZUMAKI) GREG VEDER

Greg was on cloud nine.

Naruto-sensei had not been embarrassed by his disastrous first outing. More importantly, he had not been disappointed. If anything, Naruto treated the entire situation like a lesson rather than a failure. He had smiled at him, clapped him on the shoulder, and told him not to let it get to him. Greg appreciated that more than he could properly put into words. It alone had been enough to lift the weight that had been sitting in his chest since that night.

But that wasn’t the only reason his mood was soaring.

There was also Tammi.

The fact that she had gone out of her way to talk to him—smiling, laughing at his jokes, and actually listening when he spoke—still felt a little surreal. Greg was well aware of where he usually stood on the social ladder, and it wasn’t anywhere near the kind of attention Tammi brought with her simply by existing. Yet she had chosen to sit with him, partner with him during class, and talk like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And she was very pretty, too.

So yes, Greg Veder was absolutely on cloud nine.

Still, if he was being honest with himself, there was one thing that would make the day even better.

Actually succeeding at being a hero.

The thought crept back in as he moved across the rooftop, keeping low as he crossed from one building to the next. 

His first attempt at hero work had… not gone great. Naruto-sensei had needed to step in and save him from what had basically been a bunch of canonfodders the last time Greg tried to patrol, and even now, the memory made him wince a little. He still remembered that moment when he realized that he had been completely out of his depth, that the situation had spiraled faster than he could react.

And sure, the embarrassment had faded somewhat after Naruto’s talk, but the desire to make up for it hadn’t gone anywhere.

If anything, it had only grown stronger.

It had only been a few days since then, which wasn't nearly enough time for any sort of dramatic improvement. Most of his “training” so far had been limited to practicing in the basement at home, something his parents had been surprisingly enthusiastic about once he explained why he needed the space. Apparently “our son wants to exercise more” was a dream scenario for them.

Greg had spent hours down there experimenting with chakra, practicing footwork, and trying to repeat the movements Naruto had demonstrated. Some of it had started to click. It was far from perfect, not even close, yet he could feel the difference in his body when he moved.

More importantly, that improvement had only awakened that itch.

The itch to get back out there and prove he could do better.

To do it properly this time.

Because being trained by Naruto Uzumaki—actual ninja mentor, life coach, and possibly the coolest adult Greg had ever met—and then failing miserably at his first real attempt? Yeah. That was not how Greg wanted the story to go.

He crouched at the edge of the roof, gathering chakra into his legs before pushing off and clearing the narrow alley between buildings. His landing was a little louder than he would’ve liked, but he managed to absorb the impact well enough.

Progress.

He allowed himself a small, satisfied nod.

And honestly, part of the motivation came from someone else.

Halle.

Greg was genuinely happy for her. Really. She had gone out on her first outing and managed to rescue her own mom using the skills Naruto had taught them. That was incredible. No, it was the kind of story that sounded like it came straight out of a superhero comic. The kind of moment people remembered.

And if he said he hadn’t felt a little jealous, he’d be lying.

It wasn't the bitter kind, but the kind that made him want to try harder. Her success had lit a fire under him, and now every time he practiced or thought about going out on patrol, that same thought kept coming back.

If she could do it, so could he.

Which was how Greg found himself moving through the city that evening like a ninja. Well—technically a shinobi, Naruto had corrected them about that at least on three separate occasions—but the point still stood.

Greg paused near the edge of another rooftop, scanning the street below. A few cars rolled past in the distance, their headlights sweeping across empty pavement. Most of the businesses down here were already closed, their windows dark.

Quiet. Maybe too quiet… or was he just overthinking things? 

He shifted his weight, preparing to move again when something caught his eye. Movement across the street, on another rooftop ahead of him. Greg stilled instantly, dropping lower as his instincts—still clumsy, but rapidly improving if he did say so himself—kicked in.

Someone else was up here.

The figure moved with surprising speed, crossing the rooftop in a smooth line before leaping to the next building. Their landing was quiet, and too controlled to be a drunk or a random civilian taking a midnight stroll.

Greg blinked.

Oh.

Okay, that was interesting.

He hesitated for about half a second before curiosity got the better of him. Then he started after the figure, moving carefully and keeping his distance. As he went, he tried to imitate the way Naruto had demonstrated silent movement during training: light steps, steady breathing, staying low, and avoiding the skyline where anyone could spot his outline.

He doubted he was doing it perfectly, but it did not feel like a complete disaster either.

The other figure didn’t seem to notice him as they moved across two more rooftops before finally slowing. Then they stopped.

Greg crouched behind a ventilation unit on the neighboring building and peeked over the edge. The person stood at the far end of the roof, overlooking a wide, mostly empty street below. For a moment they simply watched the road, then they reached up and pulled their mask slightly upward.

Just enough to expose their face.

Greg blinked.

Wait.

Curly black hair, tall, and kind of intense-looking even when she wasn’t doing anything.

Oh.

Oh!

That was Taylor Hebert.

Before he could even begin to question whether this was a good idea, before his brain could produce even a single sensible thought, his body had already committed. Greg stepped out of cover and jumped down from the higher section of the roof.

He landed a short distance away from her with what he hoped looked like a controlled drop rather than a panicked fall.

“Hey!” he blurted quickly, raising a hand in greeting as he straightened. “So, uh, funny running into you up here.”