All eyes in the Hokage's office turned as a short, disheveled old man shuffled in. He wore a shabby gray work smock and waved a sake bottle dangerously as he walked, hiccupping and reeking of booze — the kind of man who'd clearly been drinking for a long time.
"Hic — these kids look weak. Can a bunch of genin really escort me back to the Land of Waves safely?" Dazuna hiccupped, squinting at Team Seven with drunken suspicion.
Naruto pinched his nose. "Ugh — he stinks!" The smell of alcohol hit him like a gust of rotten rice wine.
"That dark-haired kid looks solid," Dazuna muttered after a long swig, glancing coolly at Sasuke. Then he turned to Naruto with a scornful sneer. "This idiot — a ninja? Go home and drink milk, kid."
Sasuke snorted with disdain and didn't bother to hide the tiny curl of his mouth. The old man's dismissal stung Naruto like an insult to his pride.
"You bastard! You can't talk to us like that!" Naruto's forehead creased with a furious little hashmark; he sprang forward like an angry weasel.
Sakura yanked him back, glaring. "Naruto! Respect the client — or it'll make the village look bad!"
"Let go, Sakura! I'll punch this grandpa until he sobers up!" Naruto struggled, all righteous fury and flailing limbs.
Dazuna ignored the racket and stared straight at the man lounging on the sofa.
"And who's your lead jonin?" he demanded. "Is it you?"
Ayato — white hair, an easy, pretty face, a lollipop between his lips — lounged with his legs crossed. He wore no ninja headband, no standard flak jacket; he looked like a rakish nightlife regular, not an officer of the village.
Ayato smiled lazily. "That would be me."
Dazuna stumbled forward, bottle in hand, inspecting Ayato like a drunken critic. "You? You look weak — like a barfly who scams women for money."
Ayato flipped through a copy of Make-Out Paradise and deadpanned, "I'm strong, don't worry."
Dazuna squinted and staggered. "Still, that black-haired kid seems more reliable than you." He nodded toward Sasuke.
Ayato's smile curdled into an amused half-grin. He leaned forward just enough to murmur, "Go rot, you old drunk."
Sakura gaped. "Ayato-sensei! Don't say stuff like that!"
Dazuna scowled and turned to Hiruzen. "Hokage-sama — can't we get a more… dependable jonin?"
Hiruzen pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Ayato's reputation — and his personality — made the old man's head ache. He should have assigned a different team for this errand.
Ayato, however, was in no mood to be underestimated. He rose, approaching Dazuna with a sudden seriousness that made the drunk blink.
"You brought one thousand ryō as payment," Ayato said, grabbing and tugging at the old man's beard with a casual hand. "That's only enough to cover three genin as a bare escort. I'm just accompanying them for moral support."
He straightened and leveled his voice.
"If you want a jonin to take this on personally, come back with one hundred thousand ryō. If you want me to accept solo, bring twenty million ryō."
The room froze. Twenty million ryō.
Dazuna nearly choked on his sake. "T—twenty million? Ten thousand? I don't even have a hundred thousand!"
The Land of Waves was broke — piracy and a monopolizing company had strangled the ports. Dazuna had scraped together one thousand ryō; it was everything he had left. He'd spent what little remained on bridge-building to rebuild his village — this payment was his last lifeline.
And this white-haired libertine was asking for twenty million ryō like it was pocket change.
Hiruzen merely inclined his head. In silence he answered Dazuna's incredulous look.
As Third Hokage, Hiruzen knew Ayato's value. Ayato had a history of taking on extraordinarily dangerous, A- and S-rank jobs — he'd hunted high-profile rebel ninja before. His mission completion rate was effectively flawless, and when he captured high-value targets, bounties sometimes went to him personally. A man like Ayato had a price.
The team stared at Ayato in bewilderment. The man who spent his time flirting and provoking elders really commanded that kind of fee? Naruto tried to do quick math in his head and only managed, "Two—twenty million—how many bowls of ramen is that?"
Dazuna glared, indignant. "You ask for two million? Who do you think you are?"
Ayato shrugged and patted the old man on the head. "If you've no money, don't get cocky. But okay — I'll accompany the brats on this escort as their teacher."
He had one immediate goal: finish the master–disciple task in the allotted time so he could get the prize — the ability connected to the Resonating Thunderfruit. With those powers? Messing with lightning would be much more entertaining.
Dazuna took a long swig and, defeated, muttered, "We're counting on you, then."
Ayato's gaze turned cold for a moment.
He'd already pieced together the hidden stakes behind Dazuna's little escort job: the real threat wasn't a handful of hillbandits. There was a mist-shinobi with a reputation in the Land of Waves — a real problem. If they ran into the Mist's specialist, things could escalate fast.
Ayato smiled faintly. If trouble came, he intended to sit Dazuna down and then renegotiate the fee on the spot. The Land of Waves was poor now, but once the bridge Dazuna was funding went up, the country would prosper — and he could demand his due.
Dazuna swallowed hard and said nothing. His expression was ugly.
Team Seven exchanged confused looks. An escort to the Land of Waves and a few bandits along the way? Where was the danger? What was Ayato smirking about?
Ayato already had a plan.
"Let's move," he announced, tossing a casual look over his shoulder. "Don't forget snacks."
"S-Sensei, this is a mission!" Sakura protested.
Ayato waved her off. "Ramen first, scolding later."
Dazuna watched Ayato's retreating back and exhaled. What does this carefree man know? he wondered. If he truly knows something, would he bring the kids into it? But the thought that Ayato might be weak and everyone would perish gnawed at him.
Soon, Ayato led Team Seven out of Konoha and into the road toward the Land of Waves — a small escort mission on paper, but with rumors and hidden teeth beneath its surface.
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