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

After wrapping up official business, Roshi decided to walk Itachi partway home.

Given that Danzo had intercepted him earlier, it was better not to let the young Uchiha travel alone.

They hadn’t gone far when a figure leaning casually against a lamppost came into view at the fork in the road.

Noticing them, the man straightened up and smiled.

”Roshi-kun. Itachi.”

”Shisui,” Roshi greeted in turn.

Even though Shisui had already accompanied Itachi earlier, Roshi didn’t mind walking a little farther. He wasn’t in a rush to return anyway.

”Today, we really owe you one, Shisui.”

If not for his timely arrival, even Itachi—calm and sharp as he was—would’ve been forced into a defensive position against Danzo.

Shisui shook his head lightly, his smile easy but genuine. ”Itachi and I are both from the Uchiha Clan. He’s like a younger brother to me. There’s no need for thanks.”

Then, his expression softened, becoming more earnest. ”Compared to that, it’s Roshi-kun who deserves our gratitude. Without you, the Uchiha might still be wandering in circles, trapped between pride and fear.”

As one of the few Uchiha trusted by both the clan and the village, Shisui understood better than anyone how precarious their current peace was—and how much it had cost to reach it.

”The road ahead is long,” Roshi said quietly. ”And it won’t be smooth. Many of the coming steps will depend on your strength, Shisui.”

At those words, the young man’s smile vanished. He straightened, answering solemnly, ”Please give the order, Roshi-kun. For the sake of the clan—and the village’s future—I’ll do everything I can.”

Roshi gave a faint smile. ”Just call me Roshi.”

For a brief moment, Shisui blinked, then his grin returned, brighter this time. ”Alright, Roshi.”

Beside them, Itachi watched in silence. For the first time in a long while, a faint warmth settled in his chest.

With Shisui and his captain working together, he felt… perhaps the future really could change.

The three walked on until the faint outline of the Uchiha compound appeared under the moonlight. There, Roshi stopped.

”I’ll leave you here,” he said.

After exchanging farewells, he watched the two Uchiha disappear beyond the district’s stone gates before turning away—his own path leading not home, but toward the Hokage Building.

At this hour, Lady Tsunade was likely still awake.

When he arrived, he didn’t find her in the main office, but rather in the smaller adjoining room—her usual refuge whenever the ”old man” annoyed her or she was in no mood for bureaucratic nonsense.

He knocked once.

”Come in,” came her voice.

Roshi pushed the door open to find her leaning lazily back in a chair, spinning a half-empty wine glass between her fingers. The faint scent of alcohol hung in the air.

”What is it this time? Another lecture?” Tsunade asked dryly, though she gestured to the chair opposite her all the same.

If Roshi had come all the way to the Hokage Building to find her, it wasn’t for a trivial matter.

Roshi didn’t waste words. He quickly summarized Fugaku’s ”misunderstanding” with the Anbu candidate list.

Tsunade groaned and ran a hand through her hair in frustration. ”Honestly, how old is he? Still making people babysit his decisions? Fugaku’s the head of one of the most powerful clans in the Village—don’t tell me he actually doesn’t understand what that list means.”

Her annoyance sharpened. ”Alright. I’ll handle it. Tomorrow, I’ll have him resubmit the list—expand it to at least twenty names. We’ll say it’s for a broader screening and evaluation.”

Before Tsunade could thank him, he added, ”There’s one more issue. Regarding Advisor Shimura.”

Tsunade’s brows shot up before he’d even finished explaining. When she heard that Danzo had confronted Itachi directly, her palm slammed against the desk with a bang.

”That damn Danzo again! Root’s financial reports are already riddled with missing funds, and every time someone questions him, he acts like it’s classified! And the old man just keeps letting him do as he pleases!”

The Senju Princess’s temper flared as she ranted. ”And then I’m the one stuck dealing with these ’budget holes’ like they’re my problem! Meanwhile, Root’s accounts are overflowing with untraceable expenses! My grandfather didn’t even need an organization like Root to handle what Anbu was built for!”

She slammed her fist again, the desk rattling under the impact. ”Hiruzen’s really getting soft in his old age! Absolutely hopeless!”

Her chest heaved for several long moments before she managed to rein herself in with a sigh.

”…But now isn’t the time to move against him,” she said finally, voice quieter. ”The old man’s still protecting him. And until I officially take the hat, we can’t make any overt moves.”

With that, she drained the rest of her wine in one go, the faintest trace of weariness in her golden eyes.

Then she tossed the empty glass aside, pointing at the untouched stack of paperwork on her desk.

”I’m tired. You’re here, and you look like you’ve got nothing better to do—so, be useful. Go through these and check the data.”

Before Roshi could protest, she added drowsily, ”Don’t even think about slipping away… When I wake up, there’s still something I need to tell you…”

Within seconds, her words faded into soft, rhythmic breathing. Tsunade had already collapsed onto the nearby sofa, fast asleep, her expression surprisingly peaceful.

Roshi stood there for a long moment, staring at her, then sighed quietly.

I’m still supposed to be on vacation.

He really didn’t want to be stuck sorting documents again. But when he’d come in, he’d expected her to vent her irritation on him outright.

Instead, she hadn’t yelled. She hadn’t dragged him into her grievances—

Not like that one night at the Western Suburbs Old House.

Since then, she’d only trusted him with her silence.

Roshi’s gaze lingered briefly on Tsunade’s sleeping face. Her head rested against the arm of the sofa, her expression—finally—peaceful, though exhaustion had carved faint lines around her eyes.

He sighed quietly, then walked around the desk, sat down, and picked up the first document from the towering stack.

It didn’t take long to understand the source of her frustration.

Though the war had ended, the aftermath still weighed heavily on Konoha. Death benefits for fallen shinobi, resettlement of bereaved families, welfare for the wounded and retired, personnel transfers, and the restructuring of post-war mission systems—none of it was simple.

The previous year’s backlog of high-level missions had finally been cleared, but now low-level missions were falling short.

And to honor alliance agreements with Sunagakure and Kumogakure, part of Konoha’s mission quota for the Lands of Rivers and Hot Water had been ceded.

The surrounding small nations, each with their own minor Hidden Villages, could only offer limited requests. At the same time, a new batch of Genin had just graduated—young, eager, and desperate for low-level missions to gain experience and income.

Without those missions, there would be no team development, no steady flow of funds, no sense of order.

Roshi rubbed his temples, then picked up a pen. He couldn’t authorize anything on Tsunade’s behalf, of course, but he could still check data, flag inconsistencies, and organize proposals. Once he focused, his hand moved quickly across the paper, marking notes with neat precision.

Half an hour passed in silence before a faint rustling came from the sofa.

Lady Tsunade stirred, rubbing her eyes groggily. Her golden hair was slightly disheveled, her eyes still hazy with sleep and faint traces of alcohol.

When she saw Roshi sitting behind her desk, pen in hand, calmly cross-checking figures, she blinked in surprise—then smirked.

”Tch. You’d better not write anything wrong,” she murmured, stretching lazily. ”Otherwise I’ll have to fix it later…”

She yawned, then tilted her head. ”So? How does it feel—getting a taste of the Hokage’s paperwork?”

Terrible, Roshi thought grimly.

No wonder Tsunade had bolted the moment Kakashi could take over. And Kakashi, for his part, had handed the job to Naruto without hesitation.

Being Hokage might have sounded glorious—but in reality, it was pure masochism.

Strength alone wasn’t enough; the position demanded endless patience for politics, finances, and logistics that could grind even a battle-hardened shinobi into dust.

And as the village grew, so did the complexity of its problems. The Hokage’s burden would only get heavier, never lighter.

To Roshi, the conclusion was simple: whoever wanted that job could have it.

”It’s… very difficult,” he said aloud.

”Hmph. Good. At least you realize that.” Tsunade rolled her shoulders, eyeing the empty wine glass on the desk before turning serious again. ”But this is all just internal clutter. The real focus this year lies beyond the Village walls.”

She crossed her arms. ”The Chunin Selection Exams will be expanded this year. We’ll officially invite other major villages to participate. Only the major ones—no small fry.”

Roshi looked up, waiting for her to continue.

”Konoha’s internal promotions are fine,” she went on, ”but without comparison, they don’t mean anything. This year, we’re showing the world that even after everything, our next generation stands strong.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, a glint of pride beneath the fatigue. ”That includes Uchiha Itachi. He’ll be participating. This is Konoha’s chance to prove that even after the wars, our roots haven’t withered. The future still grows.”

She leaned back slightly, voice cooling into pragmatism. ”Of course, it’s not just about pride. Without public competition, without a display of strength, the Daimyo and the wealthy clients won’t be convinced to approve the revised annual mission quota—especially the expansion of low-level missions.”

”The shortfall this year is significant,” she continued. ”If the redistribution plan doesn’t pass, things will get messy fast.”

She picked up a file, flipping it open with one hand. ”Iwagakure’s office already sent a reply—they declined outright. Hidden Mist is as mysterious as ever, no plans to participate.”

Her expression didn’t waver. ”Doesn’t matter. Those two aren’t essential. The real focus is Sunagakure and Kumogakure.”

”For Kumogakure, I’ll send Shizune to deliver the invitation and handle the negotiation.”

She set the folder down and looked straight at Roshi. ”As for Sunagakure… that’ll be you. You’ve worked with them before—Ebizo, Rasa, both know you. Make sure they send a solid team this time.”

Roshi met her gaze silently for a moment.

”Respected Lady Tsunade,” he said at last, voice dry, ”I just finished a diplomatic mission. Perhaps someone else could—”

”Perfect. You already know the route,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. Then, as if remembering something, she added, ”Oh, and Hidden Rain has already confirmed participation.”

She tapped her chin. ”Only Grass Village hasn’t responded. After you finish in Sunagakure, stop by there on your way back and check it out.”

”…Lady Tsunade,” Roshi said, expression unreadable, ”Grass Village and Sunagakure aren’t anywhere near each other.”

”It’s close enough,” she said with a perfectly straight face. ”You’ll manage. I’ll have a team arranged for you tomorrow.”

Before he could protest, she suddenly stood, grabbed him by the back of his collar, and all but shoved him out the door.

”Now go, I’ve got work to do,” she said briskly, slamming the door behind him.

The muffled sound of paper rustling followed, along with her muttering something about ’idiotic budgets’ and ’drunken reports.’

Roshi exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

”Vacation’s officially over, I see,” he muttered to himself, before walking off into the corridor lit by the last pale light of dawn.

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