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

Three days after Roshi’s departure, word finally arrived.

Iwagakure had been driven out of the Land of Fire.

The exact battle details were classified, but the outcome spread quickly enough. The once-restless village began to calm, its anxiety replaced by relief and newfound stability.

Itachi, however, had his own suspicions.

”This must have something to do with my captain,” he said quietly.

”Why do you think so?” Izumi asked, resting her chin on her palm as she looked at him with curious eyes.

”It’s simple,” Itachi replied with certainty. ”A mission of that level would only be assigned to someone like him. His strength has always been... unfathomable. We’ve been on missions together, but he’s never once shown the full extent of it.”

He paused, thoughtful. ”The Third Hokage must know that too. That’s why he entrusted the task to him alone.”

Izumi gave a small, knowing smile. She was an ordinary ninja, talented, yes, but she knew her limits. Even after awakening her Sharingan, she was nowhere near the level of Itachi or his captain.

If Itachi said so, it must be true.

”Hmm,” she nodded lightly. ”You’re probably right.”

”I’m going to train,” Itachi said, standing.

”Good luck, Itachi,” she replied softly.

,

The village still hadn’t summoned them.

Anko was in the middle of training, but fragments of gossip kept floating to her ears.

Iwagakure had retreated.

Kumogakure was negotiating.

The Tsuchikage had been driven out of the Grass Country.

But there was still no word of Roshi.

She didn’t know where he’d gone, only that these victories surely had his hand in them. And yet, as a member of Team 5, she’d been left behind for being too weak.

By the time she finished training, the sky had already turned dark.

Dragging her tired body back to her apartment, she stopped short at the entrance.

”Ro...shi?” Her voice trembled, uncertain, as if afraid she’d mistaken him for someone else.

”Didn’t eat yet?” Roshi looked up, scanning her with calm eyes.

”Uh... not yet.”

”Then open the door. I’ll grab some water first, then we’ll call Itachi and go eat.”

Anko’s mind felt hazy, but her body moved on instinct. She unlocked the door, boiled some water, and watched as Roshi moved around her apartment, just like the first time he’d visited.

He quietly picked up her scattered kunai and scrolls, muttering about her bad habits.

Anko, too hungry to care, ripped open a cup of instant noodles. But there was only one left. With a sigh, she fetched a bowl so they could share.

”Hey! You gave me too little!” she complained when Roshi pushed a small half-portion toward her. ”Is this how a captain treats his teammate?!”

”I’ll treat you to real food later,” Roshi said without looking up. ”Eat too many instant noodles and you’ll turn into a potato.”

”What potato?! You, Roshi!” she yelled, baring her teeth like an angry cat. But he merely reached over and pinched her cheek, easily stopping her rampage.

She grumbled under her breath but eventually accepted her share, wolfed it down, tidied up a bit, and followed Roshi out to meet Itachi.

”Captain, you’re back,” Itachi greeted, eyes brightening briefly before returning to calm composure.

”Have you eaten yet?” Roshi asked.

Itachi hesitated, glancing at Anko’s grin. ”...Not yet.”

He lied without a flicker.

”Then let’s go. Feels like there aren’t many new restaurants these days.”

”I want tempura!” Anko raised her hand immediately.

”Itachi?” Roshi asked.

”Tempura’s fine.”

”Then tempura it is.”

Anko had a dozen things she wanted to say, complaints, questions, maybe even a little scolding, but somehow, none of them felt necessary anymore.

The war on the Western Front had ended. The streets were livelier. In the restaurant, laughter mixed with clinking cups as off-duty ninja celebrated hard-earned peace.

”We finally drove those Iwagakure bastards out!” A scar-faced man cheered, raising his sake cup. ”Finally got our revenge!”

”Even their— ”

”Hey!” an older shinobi beside him interrupted sharply. ”Battlefield matters are confidential. Watch your mouth!”

”Right... sorry,” the man muttered, his tone softening. ”Just remembered Kento... he covered for us and... they—”

The atmosphere dimmed instantly. Even Anko’s chopsticks paused midair as her eyes flicked toward Roshi.

The captain said nothing, only lowered his gaze and sipped his tea.

”I heard Kumogakure’s still stalling?” someone at another table asked, trying to lighten the mood. ”Negotiations have been going on forever. No result yet?”

”They’ve got no right to blame us after what they did here first!” another replied bitterly.

”If you ask me,” a voice chimed in from the corner, ”the Hyuga Clan shouldn’t have gone that far back then. If they’d just subdued him instead of killing him, we wouldn’t be in this mess—”

”What did you say?!”

The restaurant’s liveliness shattered into arguments. The owner hurried out from behind the counter, bowing and pleading for calm. Regulars at nearby tables joined in, scolding both sides for fighting on a night of victory.

To ease the tension, the owner sent out free plates of fried shrimp tempura. Slowly, the noise settled, replaced once again by the sound of clinking dishes and sizzling oil.

But the damage was done. Words spoken still revealed an uncomfortable truth.

Roshi bit into a piece of tempura. It was crisp and sweet, but the taste didn’t reach his heart. His mind lingered on the Hyuga matter.

During the two-front war, no one had time to dwell on details. But now, with external threats gone, internal cracks were surfacing.

After the bloody battle with Iwagakure, the casualty list was staggering. Negotiations with Kumogakure were bound to be tough, possibly even humiliating. All that frustration, all that grief, needed somewhere to go.

And so the people chose an easy target: the Hyuga Clan.

Even if logic said the Hyuga were victims, emotion demanded someone, anyone, bear the blame. It was far easier to resent the victim than to face the cruelty of war itself.

If the higher-ups didn’t step in to guide public opinion soon, that resentment would only keep festering.

And the end result... would likely be the same tragic ending he already knew.

Roshi didn’t know if Konoha in the original timeline had faced worse circumstances, bad enough to sacrifice one of their own to quell the storm, but from where he stood now, he couldn’t agree with such a choice.

Not yet.

Not when it could still be stopped.

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