Chapter 31:
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Comissioned by the 8th Pirate King
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The notices were everywhere. Pinned to the mission boards, plastered to shopfronts, nailed into the beams of every inn and tavern. Even the trees at the edge of training grounds bore the red seal of proclamation.
The Shinobi Nations had split from the Daimyo.
Naruto had stood before one of those notices that morning, staring at the inked lines as though they might shift if he blinked hard enough. The words didn’t change no matter how many times he did so. The public coffers were closed. No more missions sanctioned by the Daimyo, no more funds routed through official channels. From now on, every assignment came from private hands. Merchants, guilds, nobles with grudges. Organized crime syndicates.
Naruto’s gut had clenched. His mind shot back to Wave Country, to Gato—the greasy tyrant who had bled the people dry while hiring shinobi like disposable knives. They were supposed to be above that. Supposed to stand for more. The thought of Leaf ninja being reduced to bodyguards for smugglers or enforcers for corrupt moneylenders made his stomach churn.
That was still burning in his chest when he pushed open the sliding doors of Choji’s favorite barbecue joint.
The air was thick with smoke and the rich smell of sizzling meat. Lanterns swung overhead, casting a warm glow that belied the heaviness of the times. Naruto spotted them immediately—Shikamaru slouched against the wall with his arms folded, Choji already tending a platter piled high with skewers, and Ino pouring tea with a too-bright smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Sasuke and Sakura were already there, sitting across from them.
Naruto slid into place between Sakura and Sasuke, the low table already set with chopsticks and steaming cups. The hiss of fat on the grill filled the silence until Sasuke broke it, his voice even but carrying a faint edge.
“Where is your sensei?” he asked, eyes flicking toward Shikamaru.
“That’s why we invited you here,” Ino said, setting the teapot down with a clink.
Her tone was practiced calm, but her fingers tapped restlessly against her cup.
“Worried about Asuma-sensei? Did something happen? Is he sick? Lung cancer?” Naruto asked.
“No.” Shikamaru’s voice was flat, but the way his eyes slid sideways told a different story. “He’s gone.”
Naruto froze, chopsticks halfway to his mouth.
“Gone? What do you mean gone?”
Shikamaru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“He said he was off to visit a monk friend. That’s all.” he explained.
“That’s it?” Sasuke pressed, brows drawing together. “Why is that cause for concern? With missions on hiatus, we all have free time. I was planning to spend mine caring for my brother after his surgery.”
Sakura leaned closer to Ino but pitched her voice just loud enough for everyone to hear.
“That means get to the point.”
Naruto hid his smirk at her attempt to translate Sasuke-ese. The man in question glowered.
The trio across from exchanged a look. Choji kept his eyes on the grill, flipping the skewers mechanically, but even his chewing had slowed.
“Asuma-sensei used to be one of the Guardian Twelve. Shinobi sworn to protect the Daimyo. You know how tied up that is with the temple system here in Fire Country.” Shikamaru spelled out.
Naruto felt a prickle down his spine. He didn’t know much about the Guardian Twelve—only that they had been powerful, trusted, and close to the very rulers who were now turning their backs on the shinobi.
“You think he’s planning to defect?” Sasuke’s question cut through the haze like a blade.
Shikamaru didn’t answer immediately. The silence itself was enough.
Translated from Sasuke-speak, Naruto realized, it meant: This is serious enough for me to care.
“No,” Shikamaru said at last. “At least… we hope not. Best case, he’s trying to ease tensions. The warrior monks will side with the Daimyo if this gets worse. If Asuma can cool that down, it buys us time.”
Naruto latched onto the word. Hope. Not think. Not believe. Hope. That told him more than anything.
He leaned forward, elbows on the table.
“What do you want us to do?”
Ino spoke this time, her voice firm though her eyes kept flicking toward the doorway like she expected someone to be listening.
“We just want you in the loop. Other shinobi are restless too. My clan knows—better than most—what people are whispering. Some hate the financial uncertainty. Some feel bound by old oaths, like Asuma. And some…” Her gaze flicked to Sasuke. “Some don’t like the idea of fighting side by side with those they once swore vengeance against.”
Sasuke’s face was unreadable.
Shikamaru picked up the thread.
“With Orochimaru at the same table as Mist, the possibility of horrific training methods and experimentation. With old grudges still simmering between Cloud and Stone… It’s not hard to imagine cracks forming. Cracks we might not be able to mend.”
Naruto’s mind drifted unbidden to Hinata. To the nightmarish story of her attempted kidnapping by Cloud shinobi when she was just a child. Anger welled in him at what they had planned to do to her. His chakra stirred, a hot pulse under his skin, and he clenched his fists beneath the table.
The Hyuuga alone were a huge risk of a schism due to cloud nation. Attempting to kidnap your daughter, sister, and cousin to use for forced breeding was beyond forgiveness, no matter the shared enemy.
He was amazed the Hyūga hadn’t already drawn blood during the two-week war with the orks. He doubted they’d make it through the next conflict without it.
The table had gone quiet when movement at the door drew every eye. Kakashi entered, as casual as ever, but beside him stood Rock Lee, his green jumpsuit shredded at the shoulders, arms bare and gleaming with sweat. His posture was rigid, his expression composed, but Naruto could see the fatigue in the lines around his eyes.
He also looked like he'd been beefing up. Training for strength instead of just speed.
Kakashi raised a hand in half a wave.
“Sorry to interrupt. I’m here to collect Naruto and Sakura. Mission briefing.”
The words were soft, but they landed like stones. Missions, already? So soon after the split?
Naruto and Sakura exchanged a look, then pushed back from the table.
Naruto glanced back at Sasuke as he rose.
“Ask Itachi if he can help with their concerns. When his eyes heal up.”
Sasuke gave the faintest of nods, enough to show he understood.
And then Naruto followed Kakashi and Lee into the night, the warmth of the barbecue left behind, replaced by the chill certainty that the world was splitting faster than anyone could stop it.
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Naruto trailed after Kakashi through the doors of the Hokage’s office with Sakura and Lee at his side, still chewing on the last bite of grilled pork he’d stuffed into his mouth before leaving Choji’s restaurant. The savory taste died on his tongue the instant he saw who was waiting inside.
The room was packed with power.
Nagato sat in his wheelchair with his arms folded, Konan at his shoulder like a silent shadow, Kakuzu lurking nearby with his eyes gleaming avarice even with his face completely covered. Princess Koyuki sat upright, regal as ever in a white-trimmed coat, her pink-haired retainer hovering close—Naruto squinted, trying to remember her name, but it slipped away like snow on warm stone.
On the other side Gaara stood with Temari, calm as a still dune, his gaze flicking toward Naruto for only a moment before turning back to the Hokage’s desk. Two masked ANBU leaned against the far wall, one with a pale mask painted in wooden grain, the other in stark black-and-white strokes that reminded Naruto of brush art.
Even Naruto, who never cared for stiff formality, felt the weight in the air. This wasn’t a casual debrief. This was war council, and he wasn’t sure what he was doing here.
Tsunade leaned forward on her elbows, fingers laced, gaze sweeping the room.
“Good. You’re all here.” Her voice was steady, but Naruto could hear the fatigue in it. “With our split from the Daimyō, food and funding are now our most urgent concerns.”
Nagato’s deep voice cut through.
“Up until now shinobi have not involved themselves in industry. In farming, especially. That must change. We won’t announce it until the next summit, but we are forming new public sectors—for agriculture, for manufacturing, for supply chains outside the Daimyō’s control.”
Naruto blinked. His brain lagged two steps behind the words.
“Okay, hold on.” He raised a hand like he was back in the Academy. “Can you explain that again? You know—like I’m an idiot? Shouldn’t be too hard, considering… I am one.”
A light smack landed on his shoulder. Sakura glared at him.
“Don’t self-deprecate like that, Naruto. You’re asking the right question.”
Koyuki inclined her head gracefully, taking pity.
“Think of it this way: the Daimyō and their subjects control the farmland. They control the forges and the looms. Until now, all food and goods we shinobi use have flowed from them, through their coffers, into ours. With this divorce, they will shut their gates. We must feed ourselves. Clothe ourselves. Forge our own weapons.”
Naruto’s mouth made a little “oh.” The weight of it sank in slowly, like a stone dropping into a deep pond.
“So wait…” He looked around at the gathered heavyweights. “We’re not planning to, y’know, take it, are we? That’d be straight-up war.”
Gaara’s voice was calm, precise.
“Quite the opposite. We will grow our own crops. Mine our own metals. Manufacture our own tools. What we begin here will be independence, not theft. And the people in this room are best suited to make it happen.”
Naruto’s frown flipped into a grin. His eyes lit up.
“Oh! Right! Uncle Nagato can make it rain! And—” he jabbed a finger at the wooden-masked ANBU—“mystery man here can grow whole forests! That’s our lumber and fresh water problems solved. And Gaara, you can just carve canyons in minutes—instant mining crew!”
For the briefest instant, Nagato’s mouth twitched into something resembling a smile at Naruto's use of the word "uncle". He schooled it away so quickly that Naruto wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it, but the warmth lingered in his chest.
“I can do more than dig,” Gaara added, folding his arms. “Sand is a filter. I can sift mountains, separate out ore from stone, even extract trace metals—iron, gold, micro-diamonds. Manufacturing will require them all.” His gaze shifted. “And then, of course, there is you.”
Naruto blinked.
“Me?” He pointed at himself.
“You,” Nagato said, matter-of-fact. “Your strength in war is obvious. But your ability to manifest a thousand laborers at will—that may prove more valuable still. A thousand hands, a thousand eyes, every day. Industry at your fingertips. With guidance, you can become a one-man workforce.”
Naruto’s grin stretched wider.
“Well, when you put it like that…”
The masked ANBU stepped forward then. The wood-patterned mask lifted, revealing a square-jawed face with tired eyes.
“My name is Tenzo,” he introduced himself with a short bow.
His companion slipped his own mask away, showing a pale face with dark eyes that didn’t quite match his painted smile.
“I am Sai.” His tone was as flat as his expression, but when he smiled wider, it made Naruto’s skin crawl. “My jutsu allows me to create with ink. Animals, tools… anything I draw can serve a purpose. In terms of industry my nest use to fly and drop seeds or pesticide over a large area. With the Amekage's rain and Tenzo's wood style, lumber is less of a finite resource.”
"And I heard from Shikamaru that Temari can cut entire forests down in a single blow, so there's your logging." Naruto said.
The blonde woman smiled at his praise.
"We actually hadn't thought that far ahead." she admitted.
Princess Koyuki continued smoothly, ignoring the exchange.
“The Land of Snow has the best terrain for lumber production, despite its climate. With Tenzo’s wood style, production can be accelerated. Sai will accompany him, as he said, his flight is great for spreading things like fertilizer and seed over a large area.”
Tenzo nodded curtly. Sai simply smiled wider, which somehow made the fakeness of it worse.
Naruto rubbed the back of his head.
“Okay, okay. That covers farming and lumber. But what about us?” He jerked a thumb at himself, Sakura, Lee, and Kakashi.
Tsunade’s eyes met his.
“You four will be deployed on a diplomatic mission. To a place the four of you have visited together once before.”
Naruto squinted, rifling through his memories. Missions, missions… him, Sakura, Kakashi, Lee… then it hit him. He snapped his fingers.
“The Crescent Moon Kingdom! Wow, yeah, they’re loaded! You want us to invite them into the alliance?”
Tsunade nodded.
“We need funding. And they owe us a debt. You four are our best chance of convincing their prince.”
Naruto grinned, confidence returning full force.
“Oh, this’ll be cake. Hikaru once offered to make me his vassal!”
The silence that followed was thick. Every person in the room stared at him.
“…And you turned him down?” Kakuzu’s gravelly voice broke first, laced with disbelief.
“Well, yeah,” Naruto said, blinking at the incredulous faces. “He was a prick back then. And I’m gonna be Hokage anyway. Being some kid’s servant didn’t exactly sound like a great plan.”
The stares deepened.
“Do you have any idea what you actually turned down?” Kakuzu asked, stepping closer.
His tone wasn’t even angry—just stunned, like a banker watching someone set fire to a vault.
Naruto shrugged.
“A job? Been offered plenty of those.”
Kakuzu walked over to him and bent low with his stitched mouth close to Naruto’s ear. The number he whispered in his ear made his jaw drop.
“HOW MUCH MONEY?!” The shout shook the paper screens.
Birds scattered outside the window.
Everyone was still staring at him, but now with pity, even Gaara.
Naruto gripped his head, then turned on Tsunade.
“I want a do-over in life!”
“Welcome to the exclusive club that includes everyone,” Tsunade muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. "And if you had told any of us that this happened, or written it in your report, I would have ordered you to take him up on the offer."
Naruto blinked at her.
"But, I'm a Konoha shinobi. Wouldn't that have made me a rogue ninja?" he asked.
"Not if you took the role of vassal as a mission from me, which would have split that very big number of dollars between you and the village." Tsunade said. "Konoha would be sitting very pretty right now in terms of finances."
"But... my training!" he asked.
"Do you really think master Jiraiya-sensei would have said no to moving out to the crescent moon kingdom to train you?" asked Konan. "With all the pretty women in bikinis and pareos?"
Nagato nodded along with her point.
"Sun dresses? Tank tops? Sunny weather and mixed drinks with tropical fruit?" Nagato added.
Naruto clutched his head at his own idiocy.
"No more time to mourn your past mistakes. Get ready to leave." Tsunade ordered, her tone iron again. “You four will join Nagato, Konan, and Kakuzu for this mission. Do not fail.” she said. "This will solve our financial problems and then we can focus on food and industry."
Naruto folded his arms and closed his eyes in consternation.
"Well for food, why not send me to ask Lady Haruna for an alliance too?" he asked.
They shared glances, trying to place the name.
"Daimyo of the land of vegetables?" Konan asked. "The only female Daimyo in the elemental nations? How do you know her?"
"Saved her a bunch of times on a mission. And saved her nation. Choji and Hinata were there too." He explained. "She even asked me to marry her in a roundabout way."
Everyone stared at him. Again. Save Tsunade who was rubbing her temples as if fighting off an oncoming headache.
"And you said no?" Koyuki asked him this time.
"Yeah. Same reasons really. She was a real piece of work. The old you and her would have really gotten along." Naruto told her. "No offense."
"None taken." Koyuki told him. "I was a real piece of work when you first met me too."
Kakashi tapped him on the shoulder.
Naruto looked at him.
"You do realize if you had taken her up on the offer you could have become Kage for the land of vegetables before Gaara took up the hat for Suna, right?" he asked.
Naruto shook his head.
"The land of vegetables doesn't have a hidden village though?" he said.
Even Nagato face palmed.
"You could have MADE ONE!" Sakura said. "As the Daimyo's husband, in a land in need of rebuilding, and a lot of money available, you could have just... made your own hidden village. Like Orochimaru did! Village hidden in the flowers. You would have had immediate allies with Konoha and Suna. Hell, you wouldn't have even needed to build up your forces, you could have just snatched up all the people you'd saved. Ranmaru, Isaribi, Sasami. That's three ninja clans with kekkei genkai. Hell, with just the Fuma clan you'd practically already have a village."
"The Fuma clan owes allegience to you?" Gaara asked.
"Okay!" Tsunade all but exploded. "Are there any other powerful, well connected people who owe you life debts or want to marry you?"
Naruto crossed his arms again and thought.
"I dunno... There was that cross dresser in the land of birds pretending to be a ghost... the entirety of the hidden star village... oh and those gangsters! I wonder how old man Jirochi is doing."
"The Wasabi family!" Tsunade roared. "That does it! You're redoing all of your past mission reports because you clearly didn't do them right the first time! Honestly! You left out on offer of vassalship and a marriage proposal with a Daimyo?"
Naruto had no excuse, and so he wound up leaving the Hokage's office with a backpack full of all his past mission reports, and an equal number of blank reports for rewriting them.
-
Sora busied himself sweeping the outdoor patios of the temple.
The broom’s bristles rasped softly against the stone steps of the Fire Temple, each stroke scattering fallen petals and windblown dust. He worked methodically, as he always did, though his eyes flicked more often than usual toward the great hall behind him.
From within, the muffled rise and fall of heated voices echoed. The monks were in an uproar, their chants and calm meditations replaced with arguments that shook the wooden rafters. Politics. Always politics. The word tasted bitter on Sora’s tongue. His master had told him he was too young for such ugliness, that his time would come to wrestle with the burdens of men. For now, he was to sweep, to serve, to learn.
He exhaled and pushed the broom again, as though the dust might carry away the sound of quarreling elders.
It was then he noticed them.
Four figures approaching from the long road that wound through the forested foothills. At first, they were little more than silhouettes against the afternoon sun. But as they drew closer, Sora’s young eyes drank in every detail.
Two women led the group. The first had hair like crimson fire and a beauty mark near her lips that drew his gaze before he forced himself to look away, shame flushing his ears. He had lived his entire life among monks, cloistered from women, and beauty in the flesh was something he still didn’t quite know how to process.
The second woman wore a pale kimono, black hair trailing like ink down his back, her features soft and delicate to the point of effeminacy. Sora’s brow furrowed. On closer look, that was no woman at all. A man, fine-boned and graceful, his eyes downcast but sharp. The realization only deepened Sora’s confusion.
Behind them came two men. One with the thick shoulders and calloused stride of a laborer, his very frame speaking of strength earned through toil. The other… the other Sora could not so easily name.
He was older, white hair catching the sun, a scar cleaving across his face diagonally. In his hand he carried a pilgrim’s staff, iron rings jingling softly with each step. There was a weight to him; a presence. His eyes met Sora’s even from a distance, and Sora felt the faintest shiver along his spine—as if the man could see past his skin, down into the marrow of who he was.
The four mounted the steps together, and when they reached him, the white-haired pilgrim inclined his head in greeting.
“Hello, Sora,” he said, voice deep, patient, resonant as temple bells.
Sora swallowed, fingers tightening on the broom.
“You know my name?”
The pilgrim’s smile was faint, unreadable.
"I know a great deal, and I will share all of it. But first..."
He bowed low enough that the rings of his staff chimed together like windchimes.
“Would you be so kind,” the man asked, “as to tell Chiriku that a fellow member of the twelve is here to see him?”
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A special thanks to the 8th Pirate King for comissioning this chapter.
Yes, you can comission me to continue my own stories. I charge half my usual rate, so about 50 bucks per chapter. And of course thanks to my patrons and viewers like you leaving feedback.