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

”Sunagakure is in no rush for an answer. Take your time to consider it, ally.”

Ebizo’s frail hand waved lazily through the air. At his cue, two Sand shinobi silently appeared by the doorway, motioning for their guests to leave.

Roshi maintained his calm, unreadable expression, gave a polite nod, and turned to exit with Anko and Itachi close behind.

As they stepped into the corridor, the faint creak of a door opening caught Roshi’s attention. At the far end, another Sand ninja was ushering someone inside—a man clad in the dark garb of Iwagakure. His presence here, in the heart of the Sand, could only mean one thing. The generous gift Ebizo spoke of had already arrived.

The three Konoha ninja were escorted into a modest waiting room.

Anko started to speak, but Roshi raised a hand, silencing her. His expression remained composed—calm to the point of reassurance—and the small smile tugging at his lips was enough to steady her nerves.

So this is how it is.

Two questions formed clearly in Roshi’s mind.

First: why did Sunagakure want to meet with Iwagakure?

Second: why did they also call for Konoha?

The answer was simple—Sunagakure was playing both sides, weighing who could offer more.

They were auctioning their alliance to the highest bidder.

But that also revealed the limits of the game. Iwagakure wasn’t wealthy; they had little beyond manpower and stone. Konoha, on the other hand, still had resources, land, and food—things that could keep a desert village alive.

Ebizo was using Iwagakure’s visit to inflate his price, waiting for Konoha to pay more. But could that really be all?

No.

The recent incident with the Kumogakure envoy—losing control right in Konoha’s heart—had cast a long shadow. It wasn’t just an embarrassment; it was a question of strength. The world was watching, doubting whether the Leaf still had the power to command fear or respect.

And that doubt was poison.

If Konoha negotiated from weakness, no matter how much it offered, it would only invite greed. Sunagakure could easily abandon them, joining hands with Iwagakure—or worse, with both Iwa and Kumo—to carve up the Leaf from all sides.

That would mean annihilation.

So, Roshi thought, showing our hand isn’t what matters. Showing our will is.

When the door finally opened again, a Sand ninja entered with food. Roshi and his teammates didn’t touch it. The long wait dragged into the night before they were summoned once more before Ebizo.

This time, the old man didn’t waste breath on courtesy.

”Sunagakure wants the full mission quota from the Land of Rivers,” he said flatly.

Ebizo studied Roshi’s impassive face, then continued, ”As compensation for aiding Konoha through this war, the Suna demands—”

Roshi interrupted, his tone as calm as before.

”I don’t think Advisor Ebizo needs to ask for this or that.”

A faint glimmer of irritation flashed in Ebizo’s eyes.

”The Land of Wind is vast,” Roshi went on evenly, ”but only a handful of oases can actually sustain life—and a hidden village. Even so, Sunagakure maintains a military almost equal to the other great nations. That burden must be… considerable.”

He clasped his hands behind his back. ”Konoha maintains this alliance because it serves both sides. You receive food and supplies to keep your village running; we, in turn, ensure peace on our western border.”

”If we were to accept your current demands, Sunagakure would become a gold-devouring beast we’d need to constantly feed to maintain.”

His gaze hardened slightly. ”If peace becomes more expensive than war, then Konoha might as well transfer its resources to Iwagakure instead. It would cost less… and send a clearer message.”

Ebizo’s face twitched—barely perceptible, but it was there.

”The Land of Earth is poor in resources too,” Roshi continued. ”Iwagakure seeks only wealth—and if peace with Konoha offers more profit than war, Ōnoki will not hesitate to take it.”

The old man’s patience snapped. He slammed his hand on the armrest and stood.

”Arrogant fool!” Ebizo barked. ”Sarutobi must truly be senile to send a child to discuss such matters! The downfall of Konoha will begin with you!”

”With three Great Villages moving against you at once, what chance does your precious Leaf have?”

Roshi chuckled—a low, cold sound.

”Three Great Villages attacking at once?” he echoed. ”You misunderstand, Advisor. There’s no such thing.”

He raised a hand and ticked off points on his fingers.

”Kumogakure can’t fight. Cut off their food supply, and they’ll crumble in months. How many ninja do you think it takes to starve a mountain village, Ebizo? Five? Ten?”

His voice lowered, almost casual. ”They won’t get a single grain from the outside world.”

”As for Ōnoki…” Roshi smiled faintly. ”He’s a loyal ally.”

Ebizo froze—then burst into a rasping, incredulous laugh.

”Hah! You’ve got a sense of humor after all! Ōnoki, a loyal ally? Hahahaha!”

He laughed until his shoulders shook, the wrinkles on his face twisting like dry parchment.

But behind that laughter, he understood perfectly what Roshi meant.

Ōnoki was ruthless. If the rewards of peace outweighed those of war, he’d betray Sunagakure without hesitation.

When the laughter finally subsided, Ebizo sank back into his chair, the amusement fading from his eyes.

”Enough jokes, Roshi,” he said quietly. ”Show me Konoha’s hand. Sunagakure’s patience is not endless.”

Roshi inclined his head slightly. ”Originally, peace talks with Kumogakure were nearly concluded. The food embargo on the Land of Lightning was about to be lifted. But since the situation has changed…”

He paused, watching Ebizo’s expression.

”This shipment of food that can no longer go to the Land of Lightning will instead be sold—at the lowest price possible—to the Land of Wind.”

He smiled faintly. ”Our demand is simple: that Sunagakure treat it as an unconditional gift.”

That was precisely what the Sand needed most—food. There was no argument to be made against it.

Ebizo said nothing, his eyes narrowing slightly.

”Sunagakure wants two-thirds of the Land of Rivers’ mission quota,” he finally said, raising two crooked fingers.

Roshi met his gaze evenly. ”One-sixth.”

What followed was a long night of tense negotiation—the sound of palms slamming against the table, voices hard with calculation, the clinking of teacups gone cold.

Eventually, a fragile consensus was reached.

Ebizo leaned back, rubbing his lower back with a soft groan. ”I’m old,” he muttered. ”Not as spirited as you young ones.”

After a moment’s rest, his eyes flicked open again—still sharp, still gleaming with interest.

”So,” he murmured, ”would you like to see the generous gift?”

”If you can bring him in,” Roshi said lightly, ”that would be ideal.”

Ebizo didn’t reply. He merely lifted a hand and gestured toward the door.

Moments later, it creaked open.

A man in Iwagakure attire stepped in, a self-satisfied smirk on his face—until his gaze fell upon the three Leaf ninja.

Shock froze him mid-step. Confusion, panic, and fear flickered in his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak—

—but a flash of black light cut through the air.

A kunai buried itself in his throat before he could utter a word.

The Iwagakure envoy staggered, hands clawing desperately at his neck as dark red blood gushed between his fingers. He made a choking sound, fell to his knees, and collapsed forward with a dull thud.

Roshi lowered his arm from the backhand throw, face calm as ever.

He inclined his head politely toward Ebizo. ”May the friendship between Konoha and Sunagakure be long-lasting.”

Ebizo let out a slow, raspy chuckle.

What a ruthless, dangerous boy, he thought, stifling a yawn. Just like the Hokage he serves.

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