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

’So, you’ve found new teammates, Itachi.’

’And who was that boy… who could sense my gaze?’

A tall man walked leisurely through the forest, long hair swaying behind him. His face was hidden beneath a tiger-striped, single-eyed mask; dark robes draped his form.

When he brushed past a thick tree trunk, his figure slipped through it as if the wood were nothing but smoke—solid matter held no meaning for him.

”Zetsu,” came the low, distorted voice from beneath the mask, ”where is he?”

A reply slithered out from the earth itself.

”He’s just ahead.”

Moments later, a half-black, half-white figure emerged from a nearby tree, twisting and blooming like some grotesque plant taking root.

”Most of Konoha’s forces have been drawn away by the border skirmishes,” Zetsu reported. ”Around the Hidden Cloud envoy, only their own guards and a few Konoha ANBU remain. The window—three minutes, at most.”

”That’s enough,” Obito replied, his tone detached.

He cast a glance at Zetsu’s split face. ”Iwagakure’s really throwing money around. Where did they dig up so many worthless mercenaries?”

Zetsu chuckled darkly. ”Hehehe… The war’s ending. Many rogue and wandering ninja can’t survive between the great nations, so they’re all drifting west. As long as Ōnoki keeps the borders locked, these men have nowhere to go. For them, this ’commission’ is a rare lifeline.”

”Hmph.”

”Commission or not, I would’ve acted anyway.”

Akatsuki’s name was beginning to spread across the ninja world—and this job had come precisely because of that growing reputation. Yet even without the contract, the objective was the same.

Letting Konoha enjoy peace and ally with the Hidden Cloud? Unacceptable. Stability only strengthened the system that needed to be destroyed.

No single village should rise above the rest. From chaos would come rebirth—that was true salvation.

His body shimmered, becoming a shadow, and slipped silently toward the envoy.

A Hidden Cloud guard sensed a faint disturbance in the air.

”You—”

That was all he managed to say before the sound died in his throat.

Two guards crumpled like empty sacks, their bodies limp and silent. Only the faintest hairline marks along their necks betrayed what had happened.

From the darkness, a hand reached out and clamped around the envoy leader’s throat.

Akai, head of the diplomatic mission, gasped—eyes wide, air cut off, terror reflecting in the Sharingan gleaming from the single eyehole of the mask.

”Find an opportunity…” Obito’s voice rumbled, deep and hypnotic. ”…to disrupt the peace talks.”

”…Yes…”

The word rasped out from Akai’s throat, his pupils dilating, mind drowning in illusion.

From beneath the ground, two pale, viscous figures oozed upward—White Zetsu clones. They crawled over the fallen guards, absorbing the lingering chakra from their bodies as their forms twisted and reformed into perfect copies—same uniforms, same faces, even the same faint expressions.

When the clones were done, the scene was spotless. No blood. No noise. No sign of intrusion.

The glaze over Akai’s eyes faded, returning him to his apparent ”normal” self.

Just then, a Konoha patrol squad arrived, drawn by the faint sounds of struggle.

”What happened here? Trouble?” the leading Jonin asked, scanning the perimeter sharply.

Akai turned, his tone flat but laced with impatience. ”Nothing serious. Just a few pests. We’ve handled it. Seems your patrols are a bit slow, as usual.”

He waved dismissively, signaling them to leave.

The Jonin frowned, eyes sweeping over the disturbed earth and faint traces of movement—but seeing the two uninjured guards behind Akai, his doubts eased. Given the wave of minor attackers they’d faced lately, the explanation seemed reasonable enough.

”Understood. Please remain cautious,” the Jonin said formally, before leading his men away.

As they disappeared from sight, Akai’s lips curved upward in a faint, unnatural smile.

Under the coordinated efforts of Konoha’s Jonin and Chunin, the Hidden Cloud envoy’s final approach to the village proceeded smoothly.

Team 5 soon received their updated orders: the envoy had been safely settled in a secure farmhouse outside Konoha, and they were to return to the village to await further instructions.

With the mission concluded, Guy’s temporary assignment came to an end.

”Roshi-kun! Itachi-kun! Anko-san!”

Before parting, Guy’s voice thundered once more, brimming with uncontainable enthusiasm. His teeth glinted under the afternoon sun as both thumbs shot upward.

”Every moment fighting alongside you has made my youth burn even brighter! This farewell is merely the beginning of an even more passionate reunion!”

He clenched his fist. ”Next time, we’ll ignite an even greater blaze of youth together!”

Roshi, expression neutral, nodded. ”Guy-senpai, thank you for your efforts.”

Itachi bowed politely. ”We appreciate your guidance.”

Anko offered an awkward smile. ”Well… goodbye, Guy-senpai.”

As Guy’s figure vanished into the distance, Roshi couldn’t shake a lingering unease. Those earlier attacks—their scale, their timing—what had been their true purpose?

And that footprint… the one that made them all tense during their night watch—whose was it?

He forced the thoughts aside. Not every scheme in this world succeeded. Perhaps whoever orchestrated this had simply been probing for weakness, nothing more.

Still…

His thoughts turned toward the Hidden Cloud envoy. From what little he remembered of the ”original story,” this envoy wasn’t exactly known for it’s manners.

Then again, that fit the Hidden Cloud’s reputation perfectly—loud on the battlefield, louder in diplomacy, and not above a little theft when opportunity presented itself.

The most absurd incident of all had been the death of the Third Raikage.

A Kage, fighting alone for three days and three nights against ten thousand Iwagakure ninja to cover his comrades’ retreat—only to die of exhaustion.

Three days and nights! By that time, the Fourth Ninja War could’ve ended twice over. And yet, the Cloud had simply let him fight to his last breath.

What truly happened back then—no one knew. Both the Cloud and Iwagakure had sealed those records tightly.

But that didn’t matter now.

Roshi decided he’d report his concerns to the Hokage personally. After three years stationed along the Hidden Cloud border, he knew that village’s temperament well enough.

That, after all, was part of what it meant to be a Jonin.

Even as a Special Jonin, one could walk into the Hokage’s Office at any time.

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