Nin-To-Five (A Naruto SI)

Sunagakure

Ryoma, Jonin

Remedial lessons were a ’once per week’ affair, meaning that it would be another few days before he had to attend the next one. Karaoke Night was at the end of the month, meaning it would be some time before he had to attend that. Nagare had only agreed to the single lesson to help him get started on Water Walking, meaning that it wasn’t filling out his schedule either. He couldn’t start working on the Mk2, because the workshop space wasn’t cleared for his use and no supervisor had knocked on his door yet.

Meaning that he had no real excuses to avoid Honored Elder Chiyo’s invitation, which was real dang unfortunate.

Chiyo had an exceptionally good reputation in Suna. There were a number of reasons for this, but they could all be summarized by simply looking at where she was in the registry.

Ninja Registration Number 01-002. First Year, Second Ninja.

Chiyo had been personal friends with Reto, the First Kazekage, and had helped him found Sunagakure. Having been there from the very first year of Suna’s existence, she had a massive amount of influence about the shape Suna would eventually take. There were many rumors that they had actually been lovers, but that was just gossip.

She would go on to effectively found the Puppet Corps on Shamon, the Second Kazekage’s orders, teaching the basics of puppetry as a combat-art to a handful of students, who in turn taught a handful of students, and so on until the Puppetry Corps came to its heights during the Third Ninja War.

That point is recognized as the height because Sasori, greatest puppeteer to ever live, defected shortly after. Sasori, the guy who hung around his apartment and called his puppets trash. Sasori, the guy who revolutionized puppetry in a handful of ways and that Ryoma had shamelessly stolen many ideas from. Sasori of the Red Sands, who once turned an entire battlefield red with blood and then critiqued it as ’impermanent work’.

Sasori, Chiyo’s beloved grandson.

Ryoma had never spoken to Chiyo before, he had never even really met her properly before. Most of his puppetry was done in his house, with his own money, with ANBU hanging around keeping an eye on him for being a potential flight risk. His work during the Third Ninja War kept him too busy to sleep many days, let alone have time for chatting with coworkers, it was only a healthy diet of rations and chakra pills that kept him functional enough to keep fighting.

Fun fact. Sunagakure Chakra Pills are made from an energizing, calorie-dense blend of rice, flour, dried vegetables and fruits, seeds, honey, and lab-grade methamphetamine.

Ryoma was glad that chakra made his biology superhuman, to shrug off and filter out accumulated toxins and damages, otherwise he’d probably be a shivering wreck these days. A civilian would probably be ruined by all those pills, but a ninja just had to spend a few days crashed-out to detox before walking it off. Maybe munch on some charcoal to speed up the detoxing process a bit.

Those detoxing days were some of the few breaks he got during the Third Ninja War- all hands on deck meant every available ninja needed to be in the field and hard at work to secure Suna’s interests, so the only exceptions were for the ones who were currently recovering from injuries. Not to say he was slacking off then either- those windows of recovery time gave him opportunities to repair and rearm his puppets.

The mission to Tea Country was the longest stretch of relaxation he had got since becoming a Genin, downright peaceful overall.

A large sandstone gate loomed before him. A gate that opened into an open-air foyer with an artificial looking pond in the center, a natural spring. The foyer was flanked by the ’arms’ of a larger manor-house with a rounded roof and natural overhangs to keep the desert sun off the white polished walls. The home of the two Honored Siblings of Suna, Lady Chiyo and her younger brother Elder Ebizo.

Space wasn’t exactly at a premium in Suna, but it was still a very large building, and implied an intimidating amount of wealth. He reached up to scratch his nose a bit, glancing at the open gates, then to the road behind him, then back to the gates.

Was he supposed to just… walk in? That seemed rude.

He reached up a hand and rapped his knuckles on the gates, which made dull thumping noises. ”Hello?” He called out to the empty foyer. ”Ryoma- I was told to arrive?”

Silence. The only sounds came from the bustle of the morning streets behind him, distant enough to fade into the background of his awareness.

He frowned behind his veil. Well he wasn’t about to just enter without permission. This was beginning to look like one of those comedy skit training segments where he had to triangulate the position of the elders on the inside and then deliver a notice saying that he had arrived, probably without being caught sneaking around their property.

That sounded like the kind of thing that old retired ninja would set up for fun.

So instead, he turned around and sat down in front of the open gate, pulling out his notebook and starting to write. He needed to plan on the next lesson for the remedial students, so he might as well do it now while waiting on the Honored Elders to realize he was here.

This lasted about half an hour, until a sudden distinct whistling noise reached his ears.

He rolled to the side- a dart passing through the space his neck just occupied and bouncing off the ground. Danger coming from-

His leg was pulled out from under him, sending him sideways and skipping across the ground. There was something on his pants- he cycled chakra as an immediate first response, hand slamming on the stone ground and sticking him fast as he worked out what the hell was attacking him-

He threw his other arm up- deflecting another needle with his armored bracer. The needle had come from directly above- too far and too bright for him to notice before but-

There were dozens of long darts above him, suspended on strings. Actual, physical strings that blended into the sky above. He glanced down to the pulling force on his leg. A fishhook on a wire, pulling him onwards towards-

A slightly annoyed expression came over his face, hidden behind his veil, as he forced himself to relax under the threat of however many very dangerous looking objects were all around him. He let go of his grip on the ground, allowing the fish hook to drag him towards the door and eventually lift him up in the air. His straw hat fell off, and his veil flipped up to block his vision.

He had a very good belt on, he mused as he hung upside down.

”Hello Honored Elder Chiyo.” He greeted blindly.

The honored elder Chiyo was a short and wrinkly woman, with pale lavender hair and black eyes. She wore her hair pulled back in a bun, with brands framing her face and a sort of plain headband keeping the sweat out of her eyes. The rest of her clothes were relatively nondescript black robes with a short white mantle.

The last expression he saw from her before his veil blinded him was a suspicious squint.

”Why is there a scruffy looking mutt outside my door? I don’t give out handouts.” She growled, shaking him around a bit by his leg, hand on a fishing pole with a long spool of wire. ”Speak quickly!”

”I was told by Captain Gentai that you wanted to speak with me, Honored Elder Chiyo. I thought it would be rude to simply enter, so I was waiting by the door.”

”I don’t remember anything like that.” She refuted sharply, hefting him further up so as to be eye-level with her. A hand reached out to tug his veil off. ”Let me get a look at you.”

Blandly, he stared into her black eyes and wondered if this was dementia at work. Either that or she was just having fun making him stressed, that was a common old lady habit.

She hummed and grumbled and squinted as she got a closer look at him. ”Scruffy indeed… How often do you brush your hair!?”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

”Once a day ma’am.”

”And still so fuzzy! Sit!” She declared, flicking the fishing pole in her hands to flip him over and toss him onto the ground. He pulled himself up into a seated position as she reached into her sleeves and pulled out a comb and string. ”Hold still!” She barked at him as she walked around, comb immediately starting to pull through his hair.

His head was dragged back a few times from the force with which she worked. It was somewhat aggravating to be immediately manhandled like this, but the alternative was making one of the most important and dangerous people in Suna potentially mad at him. It was just safer to let her do whatever she wanted.

Eventually, she had finished brushing his hair back in a loose fashion, pulling the back into a ponytail and tying it off. ”Hmpf! Walking around with hair in your eyes like that… how do you expect anyone to listen to you, looking like that?” She muttered, walking back around with eyes not quite focused on him.

He reached a hand up to gently touch at his new high ponytail with a disgruntled expression, before dropping his hand and focusing once more on the old lady. ”If you weren’t expec-”

”Stand up!” She barked, kicking at his side. ”Don’t sit in the dirt all day! Stand up straight!”

”Alright, alright!” He grumbled, raising a hand to defend himself from her kicks as he rose into a standing position once more.

”Straight! Stop slouching!” She growled again, fishing rod used to swat at his back until he straightened up. Her face softened slightly as he did, before she shook her head and started walking towards the door of the interior. ”...Just like him.” She faintly muttered.

He stood awkwardly in place, debating on whether or not he should just leave while he had a chance. This chance was immediately wasted as she turned back to him and barked another order. ”Stop standing around, lazyfeet! Come inside!”

”You said you weren’t expecting me, though?”

”Just kidding!” She laughed mockingly, throwing her head back to do so. ”My mind hasn’t gone yet, brat!”

He was pretty sure that was a lie. Grudgingly he followed behind the senile woman who had been tossing him around for the crime of responding to her invitation.

The interior was just as expansive and expensive looking as the exterior, if still pretty barebones overall. He was led through until reaching a relatively cozy looking dining space, mats on the ground and a little table in the middle. A warm pot of tea in the middle, with a handful of cups scattered around, and doors leading into other rooms.

There was another figure inside, which Chiyo practically ignored as she returned to her seat. An old wrinkly man with massive grey eyebrows, which hung off the sides of his head like misplaced mustaches. His head was covered in a tan turban, and his body was covered in the same sort of long plain robes and short mantle.

The old man and he blinked at each other, before he turned to Chiyo. ”Oi, Sister! Who is our guest?” He asked in the sort of scratchy tone that only an old man could manage.

She sipped her tea calmly, loudly, before setting the cup down and answering. ”...A scamp I found at the door.” She answered in a way that provided no actual answers.

Ryoma restrained the urge to sigh, and instead performed a polite bow. ”Jonin Ryoma, Honored Elder Ebizo. I was told by Captain Gentai that Lady Chiyo wished to speak with me.”

Elder Ebizo turned to him, eyes so deeply recessed into his head that they were difficult to make out, blinking before giving a little nod. ”Ah. I see. Well come sit down, I’ll pour some tea out for you.”

”Thank you.” He responded promptly, walking over to settle down into one of the kneeling-mats as the old man flawlessly poured out a cup full of the steaming drink and gently pushed it towards him.

Ryoma performed another little bow in thanks before taking up the cup, taking a little sip, and complementing the taste. ”It’s very good.” He asserted genuinely, despite having no actual opinion on the flavor.

The old man nodded in gratitude, before sipping his own tea.

Silently, the three of them sat in a room and quietly drank tea. Well, not silently, Chiyo was sipping as loudly and obnoxiously as possible, but there were no words being exchanged at the moment.

He got about halfway through his cup before she spoke. ”You gave that girl a replacement arm.” She stated calmly, taking another sip before continuing. ”One of Arada’s bunch. A puppet arm to replace the one she lost.”

Oh so she was done pretending that she didn’t remember inviting him? He wasn’t sure who ’Arada’ was, but there was only one person she could be talking about right now. He set his own cup down as he nodded. ”I did. A missing arm could potentially compromise the mission, so I fashioned one with my field-tools and left its use to her discretion.”

”Hmp. And how long did it take for you to come up with the idea?”

”I- instantly?” Ryoma responded, slightly confused. ”It seems like a very obvious solution to a missing limb. I had it drafted out as a contingency in case I ever lose a limb in the field since… maybe halfway through the academy?”

”Something you picked up from my grandson, I suppose then.” She muttered, taking another sip of her cup.

His well-prodded pride was finally sufficiently poked to rear its head. ”Sasori spent most of his time laughing at my notes and rambling about art.” He pointedly stated, an annoyed expression aimed squarely at his super-elder. ”No. I figured most of this out on my own. The only thing he taught me was to stockpile extra rice for moody egomaniacs who show up in my apartment.”

Chiyo glared into his eyes for a few moments, before letting out a little laugh and smirk. ”Ho! Took you long enough, scamp. I suppose the pride of a puppeteer was somewhere in you after all.”

”Deliberately annoying people to find the point at which they stop being polite is a bad hobby.”

”I’m old, I’m allowed to be rude.” She waved off.

”Can I leave yet or is this conversation going anywhere?”

”Bah! Am I not allowed to talk to my grandson’s friend? Many would kill to be in your position, brat!”

”The best part about my visit so far has been the reception of Elder Ebizo, thank you Elder Ebizo.”

”You’re welcome, Ryoma-boy.”

”Shut!” Chiyo barked in a rude fashion, before slapping the table towards him. ”Now then- tell me about what you’ve been working on recently. You can leave after, if you want.”

Ryoma reached up to scratch at the side of his face, lips pulled down into a little scowl. ”Well… my old puppetarmor had been thoroughly ravaged during the last mission, and it was getting pretty tight anyways, so I had to ask Lord Kazekage for time off to build its replacement. I also had to ask Captain Gentai for one of the workshops to build the thing- it’s not going to fit in my apartment.”

He let out a slightly stressed sigh. ”And he said he’ll send a supervisor over when the space is ready for me- but no one has shown up yet so I can’t exactly start on it. It’s mostly just been a matter of going over my notes a few times over to make sure I have all the plans ready.”

”Mh! Tell me about your old puppetarmor!” She gently demanded, taking a quiet sip of her tea before setting the cup down and letting her brother pour her another serving.

”The Wood Dragoon? I- I mean it’s a prototype puppetarmor. Hard to describe it as anything less than a learning experience, there’s too many issues with it for me to get into… I’m hoping to address them in the mk2, but it’s entirely possible my solutions are going to introduce their own issues- It’s gonna be a good three or five iterations before I have everything hammered out, I think…”

It took a few hours for him to ramble all the way through his thoughts on the mk1, and for him to finally be allowed to leave.

Overall, the visit was better than he feared, but worse than his hopes. An evaluation that applied to most of life, if he was being honest.