Chapter 39: Little Flying Stick is Coming!!
"Ahhh, that feels good."
Naruto soaked in the hot spring, feeling the tension in his skin slowly unwind. Eyes closed, he let out a satisfied moan as the steam rose around him.
Outside, a heavy downpour hammered the village. After his reckless antics yesterday, Anbu surveillance on the jinchūriki had been reinstated. So, Naruto decided to spend his day in the hot springs.
All he did was overturn a mask vendor's stall. Was that really such a big deal?
And besides, didn't he pay?
Was money thrown into the air not still money? Didn't the shopkeeper end up catching it—with his face?
On the rooftop opposite the bathhouse.
An Anbu ninja stood there with a dark expression, trying his best to stay hidden, yet the relentless rain had nearly soaked through his underwear.
His heart felt as cold as his damp shorts. Suffering was part of being Anbu; that much he could endure.
But watching his surveillance target leisurely soaking in the hot spring, blowing bubbles, sipping water, and even casually dining in the bath… that was soul-crushing.
Just as this Anbu was beginning to feel like his life was bleaker than a brat's, as his shinobi spirit wavered in the downpour—
Bang!
Another Anbu suddenly appeared through the curtain of rain.
"Shift change, Yama."
The one called Yama turned around. His lifeless eyes startled his comrade.
"Yama! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Yama muttered, shaking his head and exhaling heavily into the rain, his voice low and rambling. "Maybe I should try a hot spring sometime. But the captain never gives us a single day off…"
"Must be nice, soaking in a steaming pool. So warm, so comfortable. Damn it, why did I choose to be Anbu? I knew this job was endless overtime."
"But if I weren't a ninja, I'd have to go… 'entertainment industry.' Being a host at a pleasure house doesn't sound that bad, actually. Maybe I should quit after this shift and tell the captain…"
His replacement stared at Yama's dejected back and swallowed hard.
"Yama… his soul's already been corrupted by the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki!"
The awkwardness of middle age spares no one, not even Anbu. After all, Konoha doesn't feed the idle. Once a shinobi passes thirty—the golden age—they have to consider… going to sea—no, transitioning.
Usually, ninja from big clans shifted to managing clan affairs by their late twenties.
From blood-soaked fighters to socially adept Konoha bureaucrats, they'd become the steady, loyal bearers of the Will of Fire.
There were plenty of such examples—like Neji's late father, Hyūga Hizashi, or the previous Ino-Shika-Chō trio.
As the saying goes: dragons birth dragons, phoenixes birth phoenixes; strategists' sons become strategists, the Hokage's disciples become Hokage. And what is the true essence of the Will of Fire? Effort over talent?
Of course not.
"The Will of Fire is hereditary scripture," Naruto mused from the pool. "No wonder they say the Third Hokage was Konoha's greatest Hokage. They weren't wrong."
"Capital theory? Seven-god theory? Child of prophecy? All just little brothers compared to the bloodline theory of the Will of Fire."
Splash.
Naruto rose from the hot spring and slowly headed for the edge, a smile suddenly curving his lips.
"Dragons birth dragons, phoenixes birth phoenixes. The Hokage's disciples become Hokage. The strategist's sons become strategists. And the commoner's son… stays a commoner."
...
Mid-summer. Rain poured in sheets.
The gray sky loomed like an upturned bowl pressing down over Konoha.
It was already afternoon. Naruto, still without a forehead protector, walked toward his apartment in a loose black robe, feet slapping through puddles.
Kids without umbrellas can only run harder—Naruto wholeheartedly agreed with that sentiment.
He'd just watched one sprint past him, pants rolled up high, each stride sending water splashing half a meter.
"Hashirama! Forgot your umbrella again today?" an old man at a shop entrance shouted to the boy.
"Don't worry about me, Grandpa Sora!" the boy shouted back, full of fiery spirit. "I'm gonna be Hokage someday!"
Naruto's eyelid twitched.
Was that kid aiming to be Tsunade-granny's man or the Third Hokage's man? He was still pondering that when—
Bang!
The boy hit a puddle wrong, slipped hard, and went down face-first. Muddy water and yellow-brown splatters covered him head to toe.
[Give the boy your umbrella. Let him feel human warmth. Reward: Four Symbols Seal mastered.]
[Walk away indifferently. On your way out, spit on the boy. Let him feel human malice. Reward: Shukaku's favor.]
Naruto froze.
What kind of twisted, psychopathic, god-tier choice was this?
Did they realize how devastating a spit could be to a teenager who just wiped out like that? Ugh!
Sighing, Naruto's face softened with a hint of compassion as he walked up to the boy, big black umbrella in hand.
Little flying stick incoming… no, more like a Giant Buddha arriving.
The boy on the ground inhaled sharply as he tried to get up. Blood was seeping from his pant leg, yet his face still wore a sunny smile.
Just as he was about to crack a self-deprecating joke to ease the embarrassment, a big black umbrella appeared over him. A blond boy in a black robe was standing there, looking down at him.
Hashirama's eyes widened in surprise. Why was this blond stranger standing here?
Could this… be the start of one of those passionate, boyhood friendships from the youth novels?
Just as Hashirama was about to offer a friendly greeting, the umbrella was suddenly thrust into his hands. The blond boy's voice was calm.
"Here."
Instinctively, Hashirama wanted to refuse—but then thought maybe this could be the perfect chance to spark a new friendship. Why not?
"Thanks."
He gripped the handle, about to introduce himself, already imagining chasing dreams alongside his new friend.
"My name's Hashirama. You're really—"
Before he could finish, Naruto snatched the umbrella back and walked off without a word.
"…Huh???"
Crack. The golden-hued daydream of friendship shattered instantly.
Hashirama's face flushed crimson. Watching the retreating back, he shouted:
"Psycho!!!"
[Ding! Four Symbols Seal acquired. Automatically mastered.]
Naruto was already far away. The umbrella had left the boy's hand for less than three seconds, but it still carried his warmth. Having an umbrella on a rainy day did feel… quite nice.
Choosing the Four Symbols Seal had been an easy decision—physical control over the Nine-Tails.
Carrying a ticking time bomb in your gut was no fun. He'd try talking first. If that didn't work, he'd flip the table.
With the Four Symbols Seal, he could shrink the fox's cage—and then give it a proper lesson in bondage and restraint.
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