Naruto: Being a Shinobi with no System But...

Inside the ninja apartment, the aroma of sizzling eggs filled the air. Itachi stood by the stove, carefully frying them to perfection. Across the room, Anko sat cross-legged, vigilantly guarding three bowls of instant noodles as if they were precious mission scrolls. Roshi, meanwhile, checked the time with the seriousness of a man waiting for fate itself.

The moment the poached eggs were perfectly done and plated, the three of them simultaneously tore open their noodle lids.

Hot steam rose between them. A heartbeat later, they were slurping in perfect synchronization.

After that first divine bite—springy noodles paired with runny yolk—a collective sigh of satisfaction escaped all three.

”Roshi,” Anko said through a mouthful of noodles, her words muffled, ”Lady Tsunade really came back, huh? Everyone’s talking about it.”

”Yeah,” Roshi replied between sips of soup. ”She’s back.”

”So that means our captain’s vacation is over? Are we getting the team back together?”

”No,” Roshi shook his head. ”Itachi will continue with the Chunin Exams, and you should focus on your own training for now.”

This meeting wasn’t for a new mission—just an update. His next assignments would be solo ones, issued directly by the Village, not outside requests.

Out on the streets, chatter about Tsunade’s return filled the air. Ever since rumors spread that she’d taken over Konoha Hospital, people’s excitement had been hard to contain.

After all—this was Lady Tsunade, the most legendary medical ninja in history.

When Hiruzen met Roshi that day, his expression had been complicated. Tsunade’s return was one matter—but Roshi’s quiet handling of Fugaku had truly opened the old man’s eyes. Still, Roshi had never spoken of it, and the Third Hokage hadn’t pressed.

”This mission requires you to go to the Fire Capital,” Hiruzen said, handing him a sealed scroll. ”Deliver this letter to the Daimyo and bring back his reply. While you’re there, keep an eye on the Guardian Twelve—the Daimyo’s ninja bodyguards.”

”Yes,” Roshi replied simply.

”No matter who you meet,” the old Hokage added, his tone deliberate, ”don’t hesitate.”

Roshi bowed in acknowledgment.

—

The Fire Capital—one of the most prosperous cities in the Land of Fire, even more bustling than Konoha itself.

At the city gate, a man leaned lazily against a wall, a half-burnt cigarette between his fingers. His dark jacket fluttered lightly in the breeze, the word ”Fire” stitched boldly into the waistcloth at his side.

Roshi recognized him immediately—Asuma Sarutobi, the Hokage’s son. The one who’d left the Village. Hayami and the others had once joked that he’d gone insane.

”Roshi,” Asuma greeted, exhaling a smoke ring. ”The Daimyo sent me to meet you.”

”Asuma-san,” Roshi nodded back.

It wasn’t exactly a warm reunion. For a man who’d left Konoha behind, Asuma wasn’t eager for small talk. After a brief silence, he stubbed out his cigarette and turned away. Roshi followed quietly, their footsteps swallowed by the noise of the capital.

The Daimyo of the Land of Fire looked utterly ordinary—soft face, gentle manner, not a hint of power or majesty. Yet everyone in the room deferred to him.

Seated at the head of the table, he was flanked by several guards, each wearing the same ”Fire” waistcloth. One stood out: a bald monk, serene yet commanding—Chiriku, whose bounty was twenty million higher than Roshi’s.

Asuma presented the scroll respectfully. The Daimyo didn’t open it right away. Instead, his curious gaze lingered on Roshi.

”Oh? You’re Roshi—a Jonin, correct?” he said slowly. ”So young… and already a Jonin.”

”I heard,” the Daimyo continued, ”that last year a young ninja led a mission to the Hidden Sand Village and stabilized our alliance. That was you, wasn’t it?”

”Your Excellency flatters me,” Roshi replied, bowing slightly. ”I was merely following orders—and fortunate not to fail them.”

”Humble,” the Daimyo chuckled. ”But our protectors are indeed remarkable.”

Before Roshi could respond, a man in richly embroidered robes—his features faintly resembling the Daimyo’s—interjected smoothly, ”Jonin Roshi, you’re being too modest. Konoha’s shinobi are the pride of the Land of Fire. Surely, someone of your skill must—”

Hmm? That tone... classic setup for humiliating.

Roshi looked up, meeting the man’s smiling eyes—eyes that held just a trace of veiled challenge.

”Masamune,” the Daimyo interrupted gently. ”The mining survey’s progress needs review, doesn’t it? Go inquire.”

Masamune froze, his expression tightening for an instant before he bowed stiffly. ”Yes, Your Excellency.”

Once he left, the Daimyo finally opened the scroll, scanning it with focus. After a moment, he nodded.

”The reply will be ready by tomorrow. You may rest here for the night,” he said casually. ”Asuma, see to his lodging.”

”Yes, sir.”

Roshi bowed and followed Asuma out.

They stopped at a quiet guest room.

”Here,” Asuma said shortly, turning to leave.

”Asuma-san,” Roshi called out. ”How’s life as a Guardian Shinobi? The missions, the pay, the benefits?”

Asuma blinked, a bit taken aback. ”It’s... fine. Not quite as rewarding as Jonin-level work in the Village. The missions are lighter, but the pay’s lower.”

”Oh, still better than Chunin-level missions, though, right?”

”I guess,” Asuma muttered, shrugging. ”Most of the time it’s peaceful—the Daimyo already has village ninja guarding him, so it’s not too hectic—”

He stopped mid-sentence, realization dawning. His expression darkened. ”Hey, don’t tell me you’re thinking of joining them.”

Roshi waved his hands quickly. ”No, no, just curious. I’ve been running around nonstop lately—even my vacation got canceled early.”

That complaint earned a sympathetic grunt from Asuma. ”Yeah, been rough for everyone lately. But hang in there—things settle down eventually.”

Once he started talking, Asuma’s tone softened. He stayed a bit longer, half-chatting, half-advising—like a senpai who couldn’t help himself.

”By the way,” Roshi asked casually, ”most of the Guardian Shinobi—are they from the Land of Fire?”

”Yeah,” Asuma said, lighting another cigarette. ”Some are rogue ninja disciples, some heirs of forgotten clans, others just wanderers who never joined a village.”

”I see…” Roshi’s gaze shifted. ”That nobleman earlier—the one beside the Daimyo—”

Asuma went quiet for a long moment before replying, voice low, ”That’s the Daimyo’s younger brother. Lord Maru Masamune.”

He turned to leave. ”Get some rest, Roshi. And once your mission’s done—head back to the Village right away.”

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