"Naruto!"
Just as he was about to step into the Hokage building, Naruto heard someone call out to him. Turning his head, he found the new generation Ino–Shika–Cho trio waiting outside the building.
The three stood at the entrance as if waiting for someone. Shikamaru leaned lazily against the wall, wearing his flashy fishnet undershirt, his usual dead-fish eyes on full display. Ino looked somewhat distracted, her expression uneasy. Choji, as always, hugged a bag of chips, crunching away.
"What are you guys doing here?" Naruto, familiar with them, didn't bother with politeness. He just reached his hand straight into Choji's chip bag.
Crunch! Naruto bit into one.
"Sensei Asuma got called away," Shikamaru explained with a sigh, glancing at the sky. "We're stuck waiting for him here."
He paused, then added, "So, Naruto… you should know about that by now, right?"
"Which thing?"
"That so-called God of Shinobi who made two announcements. Just two, and the whole village has been thrown into chaos."
"Oh, that guy." Naruto scratched his head with a grin. "I thought it was just some prank!"
"A prank? You're too dense," Shikamaru groaned, clutching his head. "An ability that can project messages straight into everyone's mind? No ordinary prank could do that."
"But man, that so-called God of Shinobi is a total pervert. Talking about long legs, about his friend's little sister, and other nonsense."
"No one's actually gonna believe that kind of rambling, right?" Naruto waved dismissively. Then he looked toward Choji.
Choji raised his brows, bit down on a chip, and muttered, "The Ninja Way of the Last Potato Chip."
"Only an airhead like you wouldn't believe it," Shikamaru sighed. "But what he said about the Hyūga clan—that's real."
"What do you mean?" Naruto asked, feigning ignorance.
"It's about—"
"Shikamaru! Asuma-sensei's here!" Choji suddenly called out.
"We'll talk later, Naruto. Gotta go." Shikamaru glanced at Asuma emerging from the Hokage building, waved at Naruto, and followed after Ino and Choji.
Ino hadn't spoken a single word to Naruto, not even glanced at him. But Naruto didn't care. Once the three were gone, he headed inside.
The Hokage building was in chaos—ANBU and ordinary chūnin running around with scrolls and documents. Whispers about the "God of Shinobi" filled the halls. Occasionally, Naruto caught the words "Hyūga" or "caged bird" in passing.
He tilted his head and continued upstairs toward the mission hall. Kakashi had punished him with twenty D-rank missions before he could return to Team 7.
Just as Naruto was wondering what kind of D-rank task he'd draw this time, angry voices echoed from the stairwell below.
"They want results in one day? Where the hell am I supposed to find answers?! Damn that so-called God of Shinobi—if I get my hands on him, I'll make him regret it!"
Ibiki Morino, head of the T&I Division, stormed past with his squad of interrogators, his scarred face twisted with fury.
"Scary as hell," Naruto shivered. Deep down, he vowed to stay hidden. Getting caught as the diary's author was absolutely not an option.
It wasn't Ibiki's strength he feared. It was… his perversion.
A towering scar-faced man, built like the burly "next-door neighbor" from certain special films, yet secretly a masochist who enjoyed pain. His entire arsenal of torture techniques? He practiced them on himself as well.
Just imagining Ibiki wearing that weird blend of agony and delight on his face made Naruto's skin crawl. Better to kill him outright than witness that!
"Here's your mission scroll, please take it." The mission desk worker handed him a scroll politely.
"Thanks."
Naruto stepped outside, opened the scroll—and groaned.
Mission: Pick up trash.
"Where the hell does Konoha get so much trash?!"
Grumbling, he still set off. Under the blazing summer sun, it wasn't long before he collapsed under a tree.
"Forget this." Tossing the trash bag aside, Naruto headed to a convenience store, bought two ice pops, and walked out, leaving the shopkeeper staring after him in disbelief.
Heat slammed him again outside. Sitting on the store's steps, Naruto devoured both ice pops leisurely. Nearby, a group of four scruffy kids gawked, drooling with envy—three boys and one girl, all around eight or nine, clothes ragged, skin tanned from sun. Clearly, Konoha orphans.
Naruto waved them over with a grin. "Hey, you want some?"
The kids exchanged wary looks but shuffled closer, drawn by his two-fisted ice pop feast.
"I'll buy each of you one," Naruto said, "but you have to answer my question first."
They hesitated, then nodded eagerly.
Naruto's eyes gleamed mischievously. Maybe one of these kids will grow up into one of those cliché orphan-protagonists?
"Alright then—finish this line: When odds change and evens stay the same… what comes next?"
The kids stared blankly. Not one answered.
Naruto sighed, disappointed, but went back inside and bought five ice pops anyway. Soon, all five of them—including Naruto—were crouched on the curb, happily munching together.
"Want to eat ice pops every day?" Naruto asked.
"Yeah!""Yeah!""Yeah!""…Yeah."
Four pairs of bright eyes sparkled with hope. Naruto grinned.
"Then you'll have to do me a favor."
By evening, the scene had shifted. Naruto lay comfortably in a hammock, an eight-year-old girl fanning him lazily.
The three boys ran up, sweating buckets, each carrying a full garbage bag.
"Boss! All done!" they reported excitedly.