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

Danzo sat alone in the center of the tatami room.

Heavy curtains blocked most of the daylight. What little light slipped through fell in narrow bands across his dark kimono, trembling faintly with the shifting wind outside.

His fingers moved unconsciously, rubbing the head of his cane.

Again.

And again.

It was too quiet.

Since Kakashi had reported that Yakushi Nono and Yakushi Kabuto were unreachable, his status had shifted.

From ”guardianship.”

To ”surveillance.”

Homura had visited once, asking about the envoys traveling between Sunagakure and Iwagakure.

Danzo had given nothing.

Caged beasts do not volunteer secrets.

He was waiting.

Waiting for the fire outside to spread.

Once the situation grew dire enough, once Konoha found itself cornered—

The man who had ”seen it coming” would naturally be summoned.

The cage would open without needing to be broken.

He would step out. Clean the mess. Reclaim power.

He knew exactly what cards Rasa held.

The Dragon Vein had passed through his hands—delivered by Orochimaru.

With that power as leverage, Orochimaru should have secured Sunagakure’s trust.

And if Orochimaru cooperated properly—Rasa was already a dead man walking.

Sunagakure without its Kazekage. A power vacuum. Internal instability.

A weakened ally that would eventually bend into vassalage.

And through control of the Rouran bloodline…

The Dragon Vein’s boundless energy would, in time, fall under his command.

Everything had been calculated.

Every variable is anticipated.

A flawless script.

So why—

Why had the first act stalled?

The chaos he expected had not erupted.

No desperate summons had arrived.

No one had come to unlock the door.

Why…

Why has no one come to release me?

—

Baki returned with nothing.

No promise. No concession. Not even a token gesture.

At this stage, Roshi already knew—

Negotiation would yield nothing.

The terms Konoha demanded, Sunagakure could never accept.

And what could Sunagakure offer?

Mission quotas? Funding? Peripheral resources beyond the Land of Wind?

Konoha either already possessed more than enough of those—

Or it could now control them indirectly through its superior position on the battlefield.

They were not bargaining chips.

They were scraps.

So the standoff would continue.

As for crushing Sunagakure outright—

Aside from the era of Senju Hashirama, every great ninja village possessed, at least in theory, the capacity to destroy another.

Iwagakure had two Jinchūriki.

And Ōnoki—master of Dust Release. Capable of flight.

Kumogakure and Kirigakure both had Tailed Beasts and their own hidden trump cards.

Push any of them into true desperation, remove all restraints—

They would not storm fortified villages.

They would strike where it hurt most.

Unprotected towns.

Civilians.

Infrastructure.

And now, Sunagakure had flight capability.

If they abandoned all restraint, they could do the same.

The Land of Wind problem could not be handled crudely.

Sunagakure’s betrayal had to be punished.

Otherwise, Konoha would lose credibility—both internally and externally.

But the punishment required precision.

Enough pain to carve the lesson into memory.

Not so much that they would bite back in madness.

Standing at the edge of the desert, heat waves distorting the horizon under the blazing sun, Roshi narrowed his eyes.

The sand shimmered endlessly.

A battlefield.

”Lord Roshi.”

A communication ninja appeared, kneeling respectfully and presenting a sealed scroll.

”Urgent message from the village.”

Roshi took it, broke the seal, and scanned its contents quickly.

The first section concerned Sunagakure: the Hokage required the front-line commander’s evaluation and recommendations.

The second addressed the November Joint Chunin Exams. Despite the pressure, the higher-ups were leaning toward proceeding as planned.

The final line was brief.

Kakashi had located Yakushi Kabuto.

He was in the Land of Rivers.

Roshi’s eyes stilled for half a second.

Then he rolled the scroll closed.

”Send a reply,” he said calmly.

”I will confer with Shikaku regarding Sunagakure’s disposition and submit our recommendations shortly.”

The wind swept across the dunes.

And somewhere in the shifting sands of the Land of Rivers—

Another thread of Danzo’s design had surfaced.

—

Along a dusty trade route in the Land of Rivers—Shikaku stood beneath the brittle shadow of a withered tree, hands tucked lazily into his sleeves. His half-lidded eyes swept across the merchant caravan resting not far away.

Pack animals snorted, sides heaving. Their fur was matted with sand and sweat. The merchants themselves looked no different from the countless desert caravans traveling between the Land of Wind and the Land of Fire—sunburned skin, torn cloaks, weary expressions.

Ordinary.

Too ordinary.

”…So it really is here,” Shikaku murmured.

The task Roshi had handed him revolved around the mysterious surplus supplies that had flowed out of the anomalous border outpost—supplies that had vanished once they entered the Land of Rivers.

After eliminating the possibility of large-scale destructive use, the remaining explanation was far more subtle.

Settlement payments.

Hush money.

Resources meant to maintain silence.

Supplies moving quietly through the Land of Rivers, blending into civilian trade routes—if one wanted to hide something, there was no better cover than the endless caravans drifting between Wind and Fire.

And these desert traders?

They were everywhere.

Which made them perfect.

”Shikaku-san.”

A familiar voice sounded beside him.

”Kakashi…” Shikaku didn’t turn, but the corner of his mouth lifted faintly. ”I see. So the line you were tracing… and the thread I followed… lead to the same place.”

”Mm.” Kakashi gave a small nod. ”Supply records from multiple outposts. Investigations into suspected strongholds. The last confirmed communication point.”

”All roads end here.”

”Then it seems,” Shikaku exhaled lightly, straightening from the tree, ”that my mission target is indeed among them.”

Kakashi did not reply.

He simply lifted one hand and gave a subtle signal.

In the next instant—

Two Anbu squads materialized soundlessly around the caravan.

The previously noisy scene collapsed into absolute silence.

Merchants froze mid-motion. A waterskin slipped from someone’s hand and hit the ground with a dull thud.

Panic spread like wildfire through their eyes.

The caravan leader—a middle-aged man with sun-cracked skin—went pale. His hand instinctively moved toward his waist.

It never arrived.

His body locked in place, as though invisible ropes had wrapped around him.

His shadow stretched long under the sun—

Pinned.

Firmly connected to the shadow extending from Shikaku’s feet.

The Shadow Possession Technique held him immobile.

”No need to panic,” Shikaku said mildly. ”If you’re a Konoha shinobi, cooperate with the investigation. As long as there’s no issue, nothing will happen to you.”

His tone was almost lazy.

Which made it all the more terrifying.

Kakashi stepped forward, boots crunching softly over sand.

He walked past the frozen leader.

Past the trembling merchants.

Until he stopped in front of a thin boy wearing a worn headscarf. The boy’s shoulders shook faintly, head lowered, as if too frightened to even look up.

Kakashi’s visible eye remained calm.

”Yakushi Kabuto.”

”I bring news from the orphanage.”

”Your mission is over.”

The boy jolted, lifting his head abruptly. Panic flooded his face. His voice trembled convincingly.

”You... you’ve mistaken me, Ninja-sama. I’m just a merchant’s assistant. I don’t know anything. …”

Kakashi’s tone did not change.

”The two orphanage directors have already explained everything.”

”And there’s something else you likely haven’t been told.”

A pause.

”Yakushi Kabuto.”

”Yakushi Nono was also deployed as a spy after you.”

”Her situation is far more dangerous than yours.”

The trembling stopped.

The panic froze.

Then shattered.

Like a cheap porcelain mask cracking under pressure.

Behind the round glasses, the boy’s gaze sharpened instantly—cold, calculating, unmistakably that of a trained shinobi.

Yakushi Kabuto was no longer a frightened merchant’s helper.

He was awake.

Kabuto was escorted to the Land of Rivers, near the border of the Land of Wind.

He stood ramrod straight, hands resting calmly at his sides.

A picture of obedience.

Not far from him, Kakashi—who now claimed the authority of Root’s new head—and Shikaku were speaking in low voices with a young black-haired shinobi.

Roshi.

Kabuto kept his gaze fixed forward. He did not let his eyes wander.

This was Konoha’s frontline defense against Sunagakure. In the current climate, his identity was no longer merely classified—it was dangerous.

Danzo, the man who had dispatched him, was under house arrest. According to Kakashi, both he and Nono had been executing missions so secret that even the Hokage’s direct command structure had been unaware of their full scope.

Which meant—

They had lost the only superior capable of confirming their status.

Lost the shield that proved their loyalty.

At any moment, they could be labeled… traitors.

Shikaku spoke quietly to Roshi.

”The supply route has been clarified. The excess materials were used as transfer compensation for the Rōran tribe. Danzo promised to relocate them to the Land of Fire eventually.”

”Sara and her daughter have already been moved.”

”Kabuto and the caravan leader were assigned as observers.”

Roshi listened without interrupting. Then his gaze shifted, settling on Kabuto.

The boy still looked young. Too young.

”Was it Nono who escorted Sara and her daughter?” Roshi asked.

”Yes.” Kakashi nodded. ”The Rōran survivors confirmed it. A blonde woman. It matches Nonō’s description.”

A brief silence followed.

Then Roshi turned slightly toward Kakashi.

”Kakashi… you once carried out a mission in Rōran, didn’t you?”

Kakashi’s visible eye narrowed faintly.

”How did you—”

He stopped himself.

Of course. Roshi worked frequently in the Hokage’s office. Access to mission archives was not surprising.

”That was many years ago,” Kakashi said slowly. ”I don’t remember the details.”

A pause.

”Minato-sensei must have erased them.”

As an elite shinobi, Kakashi had long sensed the gaps in his memory—subtle fractures where events should have been. Especially missions of the highest classification.

That operation had involved Namikaze Minato, Akimichi Chōza, and Aburame Shibi.

The mission had succeeded.

And afterward, the blanks remained.

There was only one person capable of erasing memories from all of them simultaneously—and ensuring the records raised no suspicion.

The identity of that person required no explanation.

”Still,” Kakashi continued, his tone turning grave, ”the power tied to the Ryūmyaku is no small matter. From the fragments I retain, the battle was brutal. Even Chōza-san and Shibi-san struggled.”

”And now …”

He glanced toward the distant desert horizon.

”With Sunagakure closer to Rōran than we are …”

Shikaku picked up the thread, his voice low and analytical.

”I’m afraid this isn’t a matter of ’if.’”

”Roshi’s earlier speculation is likely correct. The Ryūmyaku is Rasa’s true gamble.”

He folded his arms.

”If we remove Roshi as an unpredictable variable, Sunagakure’s greatest weakness has always been national strength: sparse land. Limited resources. Weak long-term war sustainability.”

”They can field a standing army comparable to the other Great Villages, but their logistical depth is fragile.”

He paused.

”If they possessed the Ryūmyaku …”

The sentence trailed off.

None of the three needed to finish it.

An inexhaustible energy source.

A way to offset Sunagakure’s most fatal flaw.

And the Ryūmyaku had been sealed personally by the Fourth Hokage.

For it to resurface now—The implications were obvious.

Shikaku’s expression darkened slightly.

”That former advisor,” he said quietly, ”is playing a very dangerous game.”

Not far away, Yakushi Kabuto listened without lifting his head.

Behind his glasses, his thoughts moved swiftly.

The board was larger than he had anticipated.

And the pieces were beginning to shift.

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