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Chapter 84 - Shinobi Diplomacy
🕑 Added 2025-08-03 11:17:38 +0000 UTCI was annoyed. No, scratch that, I was angry.
I'd always danced around the idea that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t that unlucky and Naruto still had some of that protagonist plot armor despite not being the Nine-Tails' jinchuriki in this timeline.
Deep down, in that part of my brain that still clung to childhood fairy tales and happy endings, I wanted to believe that the universe wouldn't let the Child of Prophecy die. Certainly not from something as mundane as poison needles in a forest clearing.
Because if Naruto didn't have that mystical protection, if he was just as mortal and fragile as the rest of us, then the responsibility for saving this fucked-up world fell squarely on the shoulders of yours truly.
And that….. that one hell of a scary thought.
I was angry and disappointed.
Yet, I wasn't surprised that I was the one who'd managed to fuck this up so spectacularly. Of course.
I'd been so focused on appearing smooth and knowledgeable that I'd casually suggested he poison his senbon like it was some kind of tactical pickup line. Because apparently, my idea of flirting involved giving combat advice to enemy shinobi.
What a fuck up.
I looked at Haku, dropping all pretense of jokes or flirtation, though my voice stayed soft. "Please tell me you happen to have an antidote tucked away somewhere."
Haku shook his head slowly, then winced as the movement obviously sent pain shooting through his mangled shoulders. "I... I didn't have time to prepare one," he said, each word carefully measured despite his obvious exhaustion. "It's not lethal—designed to slow and disorient rather than kill. The effects should wear off in a few hours."
"Assuming his system can handle the strain," Sai observed with that clinical detachment that made him sound like he was discussing the mundane rather than Naruto's potential mortality.
I held Haku's gaze for a long moment, reading the micro-expressions that flickered across his pale, pretty features. The slight tightening around his eyes that suggested pain but not deception, the way his breathing remained steady despite his injuries.
Eventually, I nodded. He wasn't lying—it wasn’t wise, but I'd stake my life on that assessment, and given the circumstances, I might actually be doing exactly that.
Reaching into my pouch, I produced a small bottle of pills and shook three gray tablets into my palm. "Here," I said, pressing them into Naruto's hand. "These should help."
They weren't exactly an antidote—nothing that convenient existed in my arsenal—but they were the next best thing. Military ration pills designed to stimulate chakra pathways and boost blood circulation, essentially turbocharging the body's natural healing processes. Not a cure, but hopefully enough to keep Naruto's system from shutting down while it fought off whatever cocktail of toxins was currently having a party in his bloodstream.
Naruto took them without question, which was both touching in its trust and concerning in its lack of his usual suspicious paranoia. He was definitely feeling the effects.
"Are we quite done with this touching medical consultation?" Zabuza's voice cut through the tension like a rusty blade, dripping with mockery, "or should I wait for you to kiss his forehead and tuck him in as well?"
I glanced over at the missing-nin, taking in his current state with professional assessment. He could barely lift that oversized cleaver of his, his stance was unsteady, and the burns from my fireball were clearly taking their toll.
Still, I would be a fool — an even bigger one — to underestimate him even now. Cornered animals were often the most dangerous, and the Demon of the Mist hadn't earned his reputation by being easy to kill.
"Well, since you asked so nicely," I replied with a grin that was all teeth and no warmth, "maybe you should wait until I introduce you to our other guests first."
Zabuza's laugh turned into a wet cough that didn't sound particularly healthy. "I see they weren't traveling with your little squad," he wheezed, dark eyes glinting with something that might have been amusement. "Fresh meat, then."
"Guests?" Naruto asked, his voice heavy with exhaustion and confusion. "What are you talking about?"
Sai's posture shifted subtly, muscles coiling like springs as his pale eyes scanned the darkness around us.
I'd given our uninvited audience plenty of time to make a dignified entrance, but apparently, they weren’t the most mannerly. My gaze drifted to the shadows on our left, where the firelight hadn't quite managed to penetrate the mist and darkness.
"Come on out, folks," I called into the darkness, letting that familiar easy charm creep into my voice, because you never know. "The show's already started, and it's rude to keep lurking in the cheap seats. Don't make me come over there and drag you out—I'm having a bad enough night as it is."
A long moment of silence stretched through the trees. Then a voice cut through the darkness, smooth and professional.
"As expected of the Red Claw of Konoha."
Two figures materialized from the shadows with the fluid grace of shunshin, landing silently on the opposite side of our little clearing.
Hunter-nin? I deduced from the animal masks and Anbu gears.
Zabuza's scoff was audible even through his bandages. "Oh," he spat, voice dripping with contempt. "You bastards never learn, no matter how many of your kind I've sent to early graves."
The lead hunter-nin, wearing what looked like a wolf mask, stepped forward. "Zabuza Momochi," he began in a rehearsed tone that screamed 'read from the manual,' "by order of the Mizukage, you are charged with treason, murder of fellow Kirigakure shinobi, and—"
"Spare me the speech, pup," Zabuza laughed, the sound wet and harsh. "I've heard it from dozens just like you. Most of them are worm feed now."
The second hunter-nin's hand moved to his sword at the taunt, but Wolf-mask held up a restraining hand. His attention shifted to me, and I could practically feel the political calculation behind that blank animal stare.
"Red Claw-san," he said with careful, dare I say forced, diplomatic courtesy, "I hope you understand that this is an internal matter for Kirigakure to handle."
That was when Naruto struggled to his feet, swaying slightly but with fire burning in his blue eyes. "No!" he said before I could answer, voice cracking with exhaustion but still carrying that stubborn determination that was so quintessentially him. "We're not done with him yet! He needs to apologize for what he did to Haku, and—and he can't just keep treating people like tools!"
I put my hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Naruto. No."
On any other occasion, I'd be more than happy to indulge the golden boy's shonen protagonist tendencies—especially if it might lead to some quality time with our pretty ice princess over there. But I'd fucked up enough things for one night, and I wasn't about to let my hormones and soft spot for idealistic speeches get my team killed.
But apparently, I'd underestimated just how deep Naruto's convictions ran on this particular subject. He shrugged my hand off his shoulder with surprising force, turning to face me with eyes that blazed with something that went beyond simple stubbornness.
"I can't just let this happen, Eishin," he said, and there was something raw in his voice that made my chest tighten. "Not when I know it's wrong."
Wrong? The whole world was built on the wrong. You won’t survive in the shinobi world if…..
What do I know? The show name’s Naruto.
"Hah," Zabuza wheezed, and there was something almost like respect in his tone. "You're either the bravest little shit I've ever met, or the most naive. Going this far for someone who should be your enemy..."
"I don't care about that!" Naruto shot back, fists clenched at his sides. "Enemy or not, nobody deserves to be thrown away like garbage! Nobody should have to live their whole life being told they're just a weapon!"
"Enough." The word came out of my mouth with more steel than I'd intended, cutting through Naruto's impassioned speech. "This is Kirigakure's business, Naruto. We shouldn't interfere."
Naruto turned to me then, and the look in his eyes was something I'd never seen before—earnest and pleading and so desperately hopeful that it physically hurt to look at.
"Come on, Eishin," he said quietly, and there was none of his usual bluster or bravado. Just raw, honest need. "Just this once, don't let them take him. Please."
What the—
My jaw worked silently as I stared down at him. Honestly? I didn't give that much of a shit about Zabuza or Haku in the grand scheme of things. Sure, I liked them as characters from my favorite show, and I'd prefer to see them alive rather than dead, but I wasn't about to risk my team's safety for a couple of missing-nin I'd known for all of twenty minutes.
But... but this was the first time Naruto had ever asked for something that really mattered to him. Sure, he'd pestered to pay for ramen, or help him with pranks, or explain some jutsu theory, but this... this was different.
I marveled at the realization that this must be what Talk no Jutsu felt like from the receiving end. And apparently, I was just as weak to it as everyone else in this ridiculous universe.
With a sigh that came from somewhere around my gut, I looked at the lead hunter-nin and let a smirk spread across my face. "Well, now, that's pretty bold of you guys, sweeping in here to take credit for all the hard work my team just put in." I gestured lazily toward where Zabuza and Haku were looking distinctly worse for wear. "These two are both in the Bingo Book, and I'll be damned if I'm letting you walk away with my bounty."
"Zabuza Momochi is a missing-nin of Kirigakure," Wolf-mask replied, his voice taking on a grave tone. "It is our village's right and responsibility to—"
“Hey,“ I shrugged, cutting him off mid-sentence. "I can't help you with your village politics, friend. But if you want your missing-nin, I'm feeling generous today." I spread my hands in a gesture of mock magnanimity. I immediately regretted it; the kunai was still stuck in my shoulder. "Tell you what—you pay me what they're worth, and I'll hand them over right here and now. Saves me the hassle of dragging them all the way back to Konoha, and you get to look efficient to your boss. Everybody wins."
Naruto eyed me with confusion written all over his face, muttering under his breath, "What are you doing?"
I nodded at him, keeping my voice low and reassuring. "Just let me handle this, alright? Trust me."
Surprisingly, he actually nodded back without further argument, though I could hear him grumbling something about perverts and their weird negotiation tactics. The poison must have been doing wonders for his usual stubborn streak—I'd never seen him this compliant before.
Turning my attention back to Wolf-mask. "So, what do you think of that deal?"
I couldn't remember Zabuza's exact bounty off the top of my head—Sai had mentioned it, but the number had gotten lost somewhere. What I did know was that it definitely wasn't small change, and these hunter-nin definitely didn't have that kind of cash lying around in their gear pouches.
This nonsense was just establishing stakes and a righteous cause, really.
Standard shinobi diplomacy 101: make it clear you have skin in the game, present your terms, and then see how the other party responds.
Either they'd retreat to report back to their superiors, miraculously produce a briefcase full of money, or, most likely, we'd end up in some strength-testing skirmish while they evaluated whether I was worth the trouble.
But it didn't have to reach that point. Not when I had the Devil's Whisper.
Wolf-mask tilted his head slightly. "The bounty on Momochi Zabuza is... substantial," he admitted slowly. "Perhaps we could discuss alternative arrangements."
"Exactly what I was thinking," I replied, letting just a hint of my power seep into the words. "It would be so much easier for everyone if you just... let us handle the cleanup here. Professional courtesy between shinobi, you know? We've already done most of the hard work."
"The Mizukage's orders were quite specific about bringing back missing-nin," Wolf-mask continued, but there was something almost thoughtful in his tone now. "Though I suppose if the targets were to be... eliminated in the field due to resistance, that would satisfy the mission parameters as well."
What the fuck do you mean? Since when has Kirigakure—or any shinobi—cared about keeping a target alive? Most Bingo Book entries are marked 'dead or alive,' sure, but the second part is more courtesy than command. A formality, typo, or a waste of ink—half the time, it might as well say ‘dead preferred.’
Shinobi kill. That’s what they’re good at. Not much else.
"See? You're a reasonable man," I said, smile widening as I prepared to push just a little harder with the Whisper. "Why complicate things when we can all walk away happy? You get to report mission accomplished, we get our bounty, and everyone goes home in one piece."
Yeah, something was not right. Wolf-mask didn't seem nearly as bothered by my interference as he should have been, and his partner looked almost... relaxed? Like they were exactly where they wanted to be.
As if to confirm my growing suspicion, the wolf-clone I had left hidden around voluntarily dispelled. The rush of memory was two headaches and some.
These fucking bastards were stalling for time.
Comments
Boobby hill
Thanks for the chapter
