Nin-To-Five (A Naruto SI)

Tea Country

Mari, Special Jonin

“Finally up, huh?”

She brought her gaze up from her legs, and towards the voice. She recognized it easily, the distinctive drawl of her partner for this mission, sounding as flat as he usually did. It was hard to figure out what he felt about anything in particular by just his voice and eyes, neither of which were very emotional.

He was standing next to the cart that was carrying her. Strawhat pulled back to reveal his ridiculously fluffy hair and expose his eyes, which were deep-set enough to completely hide the upper lids and decorated with some of the longest lashes she had ever seen. Except the fake ones you could buy, that was, his were natural. She couldn’t see much else through that silly veil he wore, which was probably the point.

She still wasn’t very good at it, but if she had to guess he was pretty disappointed in her right now. She had managed to make herself a cripple.

Good job Mari. First mission as a Special Jonin and you kill your career. She might as well be a prostitute, at least those don’t need both hands like everything else did. Give clients a ‘only one hand’ discount, it would be better than mooching off her family for the rest of her life.

She eventually remembered that she should respond to her mission-commander. Even if her career was over after this mission, the mission wasn’t over. She could pretend to be a ninja a little while longer, at least. “Yes captain. I apologize for the inaction.”

She chanced another feeble glance up at his eyes, finding them still just as expressionless as before. She returned her eyes to her legs again soon after. It was usually a pretty fun game to figure out what he was thinking, but right now she just felt sick and stressed. A knot in her stomach and something akin to a fever behind her eyes.

“Here.” A scroll was held up to her, drawing her gaze again. The stump where her arm used to be twitched instinctively, making her face scrunch up in pain and deepset irritation, before she reached around her body to grab the little scroll he had handed to her. “Read it.”

“Heh- mind giving me a hand?” She tried to joke, waving the little stump around with a shaky grin. He gave a rolling snort at that, like the big dumb horse he was, and poked her in the stomach. She jumped a little moving to swat the hand a-

…She stared at her sore stump again, even as the muscles twitched to move a limb that wasn’t there anymore. Her gaze returned to her lap, and despite the roof over her head, it looked like it was starting to rain. Little drops falling in her lap.

“Mari. Open the scroll.” Ryoma commanded, making her sniff and wipe her eyes with the base of her palm. The scroll wasn’t tied off, so it was easy to unravel on her lap and look down on with bleary eyes.

She stared at it for a few long moments. The first part was an order written in bold. ‘Pretend that this scroll only includes instructions for the chakra-string technique.’ The order soon disappeared in wisps of rising ash flakes, leaving behind a bare section of the scroll.

This section was followed by a few paragraphs and diagrams of how to perform the signature skill of the puppet brigade, then a picture of a one armed woman holding a warfan using both an arm and a chakra string sprouting from the stump.

She pulled the scroll up to get it out of the rain, which had intensified.

There was an unlabeled storage seal, then a diagram of a woman missing her arm. Next to it was an arrow pointed at the raised stump, which led to a picture of a…

Puppet-Arm. Basic in sketchwork but clearly indicative of form and potential function. It was secured to the body by leather straps and operated via chakra strings.

Before she knew it- she had tackled him, rain pouring down on his chest despite the completely clear skies.

—

“I’ll help you figure out the chakra-strings if you need tips.” The coolest guy ever responded after managing to pry himself away from her hug, the front of his flak jacket thoroughly soaked in salty rain. She found it hard to feel sorry about that, clinging to the scroll with a sort of giddy stress. “It’s a known ability, so operating your warfan with one isn’t going to raise any eyes.”

Even if it was practice for the brand new arm that was now stored away in the scroll she clung to. A lifeline that she was loath to let go of.

It seemed super-obvious in hindsight. Yeah puppeteers move full puppets with their strings, moving just a single arm was included in that- and should be way easier to boot! She giggled somewhat hysterically, reaching up to rub the wet from her eyes with the palm of her hand, sniffling as she did.

A napkin was offered to her, letting her blow her nose into it gratefully.

The coolest guy ever pulled it back and stared at it for a few moments, then bringing his flat eyes up towards her. “...I was offering it to you, not offering to hold it for you.”

She giggled, clutching the scroll to her chest and flopping back- briefly wincing at her protesting ribs before falling into giggles again. Ow. Heh. Ow. Heh. Ow.

“I’m holding your mucus now- this is disgusting.” He continued dryly, folding up the napkin and setting it aside, before reaching forwards and wiping his fingers off on her pants. She allowed it, wiggling in a happy-jittery manner on the bed mat.

“He-heh-s-sorry.” She managed to get out through blurry vision and giggles.

“I’ll leave it up to you if you want to reveal this to the Konoha ninja.” The coolest guy ever spoke seriously, nodding once. “I’d recommend only pulling it out if you think you need to- and I’ll trust your judgement as to when that is. They’ve already seen chakra-strings from me, so I don’t think that would be a surprise, but erring on the side of caution here.”

It was easy enough to figure out his hidden message- the arm was the important secret here, and he was trusting her with it. If she needed to pull it out for a fight, she had the captain’s permission.

“Affirmative!” She grinned, raising her hand and the scroll in a salute towards the coolest guy ever. “You can count on-”

Her stomach roared, cutting her off. She glanced down, the knot of stress having faded away and left behind a gnawing pain at some point- she wasn’t really sure when.

“Oh. I’m hungry.” She muttered, distantly surprised by it.

A puff of smoke caught her attention. She turned her gaze upwards to see a ration-pack held in front of her.

Mari recoiled. “Ew! No way!”

He shook it, eyes flat. “It’s good for you- it has all the required vitamins and nutrients a growing girl needs.”

“I’m twenty three!” She protested, pushing up and away from the evil pack of bagged rice and canned meat. “Don’t you have more of that Hibachi?! I’ll eat that!”

“I ate it all.”

“I’m not eating those rations- I got my own and they’re much better!”

“I checked those- you’re seriously lacking sources of vitamin C.”

“Then give me a sweet potato! I’ll eat that!”

“No. Eat the rations.”

“Never!”

—

“You seem energetic.” The growly, grumbly voice of the Konoha Jonin brought her attention up from her sorry meal of boiled rice and canned meat. It had been cooked first, but it was barely seasoned and carried the weird preservative aftertaste of the can.

Gaku Inuzuka was a burly, broad-shouldered sort of man, with narrow glaring eyes and lips that naturally tugged down into a frown. Even as swaddled in field-bandages as he was, and leaning on crutches to walk over, he had the inherently intimidating demeanour that only an experienced warrior could. Currently, the half-amused tilt to his lips dispelled much of the potential intimidation.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from NovelFire; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

He had been far more busted than she had, and it hurt a lot just to move around. He was walking already, albeit with braces.

Full-fledged Jonin were seriously something else, she mused, trying to rapidly chew and swallow the gross, bland mouthful of ‘enriched foodstuffs’ that the coolest guy ever had lamely forced her to eat. Chairomaru was next to Gaku, ready to support his partner at a moment’s notice, but his eyes were locked on her tray. She smiled through the mouthful of food.

“I should have a puppet that’s just a grill.” Ryoma declared suddenly, bringing their attention towards him.

She paused in her chewing to make a confused noise. Gaku made a gruffly questioning sound at that.

“A grill?”

Ryoma nodded. “A grill, gas or charcoal- I haven’t decided which, on legs. With a stovetop attachment and a cutting board. With it- I could travel while cooking lunch, saving an extra half-hour for every day traveled.”

The coolest guy ever had a habit of doing this- going off on strange tangents about potential designs that didn’t really seem all that practical. She swallowed as Gaku replied, using her fingers to subtly hand off a bit of the canned meat to the massive shaggy dog next to her, who took it with a soft chomp.

“...Are you sure that’s a puppet and not just a kitchen?” Gaku asked dryly.

“Of course not, it would have legs. A kitchen doesn’t have legs, that would be ridiculous and impractical.” He waved off with a flat tone. “Think of all the bouncing and shaking- you’d never be able to get any cooking done. A puppet with a grill and stove top is completely different.”

“...Is it?” She asked with a tilt of her head, using the conversation to hand off another bit of her nasty tray to the happily munching dog.

“Yes.” He declared with no explanation.

Mari and Gaku glanced at one another, then back to him. “How?”

“How? It’s a puppet with a grill on its back, not a kitchen on legs.” He repeated as if they were the stupid ones. She was absolutely certain he was messing with them at this point, giggling into her hand. “W-what are you doing? Why are you laughing? There’s nothing funny about this Mari.” Despite his words, his tone was still utterly flat and serious.

Scattered giggles and laughs built up more and more as he kept talking. Her ribs hurt.

“Uh-huh. And what would this puppet look like?” Gaku asked, leaning slightly to the side and playing along with the bit.

“Well… I’m really caught between two schools of thought.” Ryoma mused, reaching up to rub his chin. “Either I make it look like a giant man who crawls around- and I ride around in its back like a boat. Or I make it look like an exact copy of me except the belly is a tiny oven and chest is a rice-cooker area.”

“Ah- and it would use the heat of the oven to steam the rice.” Gaku declared, feigning intrigue as he scratched at his chin.

“Exactly, yes. Thank you.” Ryoma nodded gratefully.

“This sounds revolutionary.” Gaku continued. “I think this is the kind of military advantage that would kickstart another Great Shinobi War, in fact.”

“The power to cook both meat and rice at the same time- it’s an amazing one.” Ryoma nodded gravely.

“And in one puppet too? It’s also not a kitchen on legs.”

“Yes, precisely. Not a kitchen on legs. That would be ridiculous.”

“This sounds dangerous- I think if you constructed such a puppet, I’d be obligated to hunt it down and bring it back to Konoha- To secure that technology.”

Mari fell off her seat, giggling all the way- caught in the air by Ryoma’s chakra threads and gently lowered to the ground. Her ribs were yelling at her, but she couldn’t stop laughing.

The coolest guy ever was hilarious for such a shut-in weirdo!

—

“Ah- Mochi Bridge!” Lady Ikeda declared from the cart below- excitedly pointing ahead on the road. Mari had to give her credit- the noblewoman had shed pounds from when she had first seen the picture of her. She was merely round-faced now, with a bubbly and excitable personality. It was a wonder why she wasn’t married already, honestly!

Mari had decided to spend her recovery period on the roof with Ryoma, laying back and soaking in the sun and cool ocean breeze that was omnipresent down here in Tea Country. Her ribs still hurt, but the bruises were gone and she was getting better at making those chakra threads with every passing night.

She was pretty sure the Konoha ninja had noticed her practicing, but that was fine because they didn’t know about the arm yet. She was very tempted to pull it out and try it on, but Ryoma was trusting her to only do that in an emergency! Her prospects had gone from ‘try prostitution’ to ‘you have a chance!’ in an instant thanks to his hard work, there was no way she was going to sabotage that all willy-nilly!

She giggled quietly, laying back on the roof. Ryoma, sitting in front of her head, turned to glance down with a raised brow before turning ahead again.

“That means we’re only a few hours away from Tea Capital!” Lady Ikeda continued, slapping at the wooden cart like an excited girl. “I’m so relieved! I thought for certain we were going to be attacked again!”

“Well we still could be.” Ryoma called out, voice indicating how little worry he had about the prospect. “We’re still hours away from the capital- and targets being in a city never stopped a sufficiently dedicated ninja.”

A sound of despair and a feminine chuckle. “Hohoho~ Yuko, you worry too much, an army of bandits and dangerous ninja couldn’t capture us, my Sanjuro didn’t even need to draw his sword!”

“I know- but it’s still scary! I know you were scared too, you were making those -jijiji noises again!”

A scandalized, choking noise. “I-I absolutely was not! I would never make a noise like that!”

“But you were! I could hear it!”

She tuned out their voices, smiling and raising a finger to let it fill with chakra. Then- she raised it up and tapped the back of Ryoma’s strawhat. The connection between her finger and the hat established, she followed the next step in trying to pull it back without snapping the connection.

She got about one inch before the fat little thread snapped, making her scowl lightly.

“You’re getting too worried about losing the connection.” Ryoma muttered down to her. “The connection isn’t going anywhere once you’ve made it, it’s okay to let it get distant.”

She grumbled something that wasn’t quite words and tried again. Easy for a shut in to say, she actually had friends!

The thread snapped again, making her squint at her finger, who was surely the guilty party in all of this.

She dropped the hand again, breathing out a sigh and looking up to his silly hat.

“...We’re friends now, by the way.” She declared.

“...Are we?” He asked with a flat and not-really-interested tone. Which she knew didn’t mean anything, because that was his tone all the time.

“Yep. We went on a mission together, so we’re friends now. I’m treating you to some nice food when we get back.”

“I’ll gladly mooch off you for food, but I don’t think doing one mission together is enough to qualify someone as friends. Acquaintances maybe.”

“Well what do you consider a friend then, huh?” She poked at his back.

“Well… We’d have to know each other for at least a year I think.” Ryoma nodded as if he hadn’t listed some outrageous requirement. “At least a year, and regularly seek out each other’s company. That’s probably the safe minimum standard.”

“That’s too steep!” She complained, closing her eyes and placing her hand on her stomach. “Lower your standards immediately!”

“Those are very low requirements.” He replied dryly.

“No way- by those standards I’d only have like- two friends!” Mari shook his head. “That’s ridiculous, because I have way more than two friends.”

“Are they friends or just people you know about and occasionally wave hello at when you pass them by?” His voice was downright rude.

“Totally friends! I went out and got barbeque with ten of them last summer!”

“You’re a woman.”

“W-what the hell is that supposed to mean- huh mister!?”

“It means you’re entirely too social.”

“That’s totally not what you were implying!”

“It totally was.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yuh-uh.”

—

Unknown Location

Laughing Smoke

He drew the knife across the woman’s neck, holding her forwards by the hair and letting the blood pour down. It dripped into the soil, collecting, watering, and staining the earth just the faintest bit darker.

Water the Earth.

Smile on his face, he tipped her over more, letting more of the liquid life pour from the noble corpse. Normally he didn’t like killing, but there were causes greater than any man’s normal moral codes.

Feed the Roots.

Each drip of red made the petals grow a brighter orange. One week until the flower blossomed, only one week to accumulate as much of the chakra-rich blood as he could to reap its fruit.

Grow the Fruit.

Oh Fire Lotus, sweet Lotus. How lovely your hue. How enthralling your petals. He couldn’t wait to sup upon your matured sweetness. He turned his head, outwards towards the rest of the stone chamber. Scattered bodies, filled with death and empty of dreams, littering the chamber.

Water the Earth.

They weren’t enough. He’d need so much more blood than this.

“How lucky am I- The Daimyo is hosting a festival soon.” He laughed, letting the rest of the blood drip form the woman before tossing her body aside.

He…

He was doing something…

Water the Earth.

Ah- yes that’s right. He’d stop killing the ones who came by for the noble bounty, and promise a second reward instead. There was a heist planned, and the object to steal was lives.