The air in the Hokage's office always smelled like ink, tobacco, and bad decisions.
I stood next to Naruto in front of the Third's desk, trying not to fidget in my too-big clothes. The knock-off sailor top hung off one shoulder if I wasn't careful, the dark pink shorts kept threatening to slide south even with the black belt, and my light brown hair was frizzing out from dried canal water and cat fur. My glasses slid down my nose again.
Naruto bounced on his heels beside me like a hyperactive metronome.
"So?!" he demanded. "You said we could get a better mission, right? Something real this time?"
Behind us, Kakashi-sensei lounged with his hands in his pockets and his orange book out, eye curved in lazy amusement. Sasuke stood on Naruto's other side, arms crossed, looking like he'd rather die than admit he cared about the answer.
The Third Hokage tapped the end of his pipe on an ashtray, regarding us over steepled fingers. Deep lines cut into his face, but his chakra felt steady—heavy, patient, like an old tree that'd seen too many storms to bother being impressed by fresh rain.
"I did say," he replied, "that we might test your team on something more challenging than chasing cats."
Naruto flinched at the word "cats." Tora-related trauma ran deep.
Sarutobi turned to one of the chuunin standing by the wall. "Bring in our client."
Client.
My stomach did a small, anticipatory flip.
Here it was. The mission that would teach us about the world, about what "shinobi" actually meant beyond training grounds and classroom drills.
The chuunin opened the door.
In lurched a middle-aged man with white stubble on his chin, a faded bandana on his head, and a bottle of sake dangling from his hand like it belonged there more than the hand did. His clothes were worn, patched in places but sturdy. His chakra… crackled.
Not in the way Naruto's did, loud and wild and bright. Tazuna's felt like a frayed wire behind drywall—strained, buzzing, one bad jolt away from snapping.
He took one look at us and stopped in the doorway.
"These are my bodyguards?" he said, voice rough with booze and irritation. "A scarecrow and three snot-nosed brats?"
Naruto detonated on cue.
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SNOT-NOSED?!" he yelled, jabbing a finger at his own chest so hard his bandages crinkled. "I'm Uzumaki Naruto, future Hokage! I'll protect your scrawny old butt just fine!"
"Future Hokage," Tazuna repeated flatly. "In those ridiculous clothes."
Naruto puffed up. "HEY! MY CLOTHES ARE COOL!"
"To children, maybe," Tazuna muttered, taking a swig from his bottle.
I watched him over the rim of my glasses, squinting past the alcohol stink to get a better read on his chakra.
He was scared.
Not normal "I'm a civilian meeting ninjas" nervous. The strain ran deeper than that, dragging at his energy like a weight. His fear spiked whenever he glanced at the Hokage, then dipped in a weird, guilty way when he looked at us.
Under all the bluster and cheap insults, Tazuna was terrified we weren't enough.
He thinks he's lying to us already, I realized. And he hates that he has to.
"Lord Hokage," Kakashi said mildly, cutting through Naruto's shouting. "Could you clarify the mission parameters?"
Sarutobi nodded.
"This is Tazuna," he said. "A master bridge builder from the Land of Waves. Your mission is to escort him safely back to his country and protect him until he completes building a bridge that is of critical importance to his people."
C-rank escort. Bridges. Land of Waves. My heart did another flip, half excitement, half dread. This was still early, then—just a bridge on a scroll and a drunk old man at our side. But the shape of it clicked into place in my head like shogi pieces: small, 'safe' missions have a way of turning into the kind that leave names on monuments. I didn't know the details. I just knew how easily this could get messy—and how much any real mission meant to Naruto.
Tazuna squinted at us again, skepticism dripping off him like spilled sake.
"Protect me, huh?" he said. "From bandits? Thugs? What happens if we run into something worse? Are these kids going to cry at them?"
"I don't cry," Sasuke said coolly.
Naruto jabbed a thumb at himself. "We can handle it! I beat that jerk Mizuki, remember?"
Tazuna blinked. "Who?"
"Traitor chuunin, tried to steal the Scroll of Seals, almost killed Iruka-sensei?" Naruto rattled off, as if that cleared anything up. "I CREATERED HIM."
"Cratered," I corrected under my breath.
"Exactly!" Naruto said, mishearing me entirely. "I did a crater."
Tazuna stared at him like he was assessing whether Naruto's skull contained a brain or a raccoon.
"Look," I cut in, before Naruto could start re-enacting the Mizuki fight with interpretive flailing. "We're Genin, not Academy students. We've trained under Kakashi Hatake." I tipped my head toward our jonin, whose reputation was technically classified but functionally legendary. "We're not helpless."
Tazuna snorted. "You look like you're playing dress-up."
I glanced down at myself.
Okay, fair. The too-big not-quite-uniform with pink accents, the ink stains on my fingers, the black glasses slipping constantly, light brown hair constantly tangled… I did look like a background character in a school anime who'd wandered into the wrong genre.
But underneath that, I was chakra and seals and the memory of dying once already. I wasn't planning on doing it again.
"The mission parameters are clear," Kakashi said, reining things back. "Escort to Land of Waves, guard duty during construction, defense against bandits or low-level enemy ninja at most. C-rank."
Underneath his bored tone, I could feel the way his chakra tightened at the edges. He knew as well as I did: civilians didn't usually come all the way to Konoha just to hire a basic babysitting squad.
Sarutobi held Tazuna's gaze a little too long.
"Is there anything else you wish to disclose about the threats you face?" he asked, voice mild. "We assign missions based on accurate information, Tazuna."
Tazuna hesitated.
His chakra spiked, fear flaring bright, then dampening down under a layer of stubbornness and shame.
"Well," he said. "There may be… some bandits you could call… unusual."
Suspicious. Very suspicious.
"If this were truly B-rank or above," the Hokage said, "the cost would be significantly higher."
He didn't say: and you look like you can barely afford that bottle of sake.
Tazuna's shoulders hunched a fraction.
"It's a poor country," he said roughly. "We don't have much. But this bridge… it's our hope. If I don't finish it…" He trailed off. The fear in his chakra twisted into anger, then back into fear, like he was caught in his own loop.
I muttered, mostly for myself, "He's way more scared than a normal drunk grandpa."
Naruto looked at me. "Huh?"
"Nothing," I said under my breath. This is not staying C-rank. No way.
Sarutobi sighed, the kind of quiet, resigned sound that came from years of making choices where every option got someone hurt.
"Kakashi," he said finally. "You are an experienced jonin. Do you feel your team can handle potential… complications?"
Kakashi didn't answer right away.
For a moment, his lazy-surfaced chakra went very still, like deep water during a pause in the wind. He glanced at us.
At Naruto, vibrating with eagerness and stupid, sincere bravery.
At Sasuke, tense and hungry for something real to fight.
At me, glasses slightly askew, fingers ink-stained, heart pounding way too hard for someone trying to look calm.
His eye curved.
"They'll do," he said.
Naruto punched the air. "YEAH!"
Sasuke sniffed. "Obviously."
I exhaled, tension and excitement tangling in my chest.
Land of Waves. Zabuza. Haku.
The arc where Naruto first really sees what being a shinobi costs. Where lines between enemy and ally blur, and the world gets a little bigger, and a little harsher.
And I was walking into it with foreknowledge and a body that could bleed again.
"Then it's settled," Sarutobi said.
He straightened, all the warmth of the "kind old grandpa" aura fading, leaving behind the Third Hokage of the Hidden Leaf Village—leader, strategist, man who juggled a thousand invisible knives.
"Team 7," he intoned. "You are hereby assigned a C-rank mission: escort and protect Tazuna of the Land of Waves until his bridge is complete."
We bowed.
Naruto nearly toppled forward from sheer enthusiasm. "We won't let you down, Old—uh, Lord Hokage!"
"See that you don't," Sarutobi said, a hint of a smile returning at the corners of his mouth.
Tazuna drained the last of his sake and set the bottle down with more force than necessary.
"Fine," he grumbled. "You kids better not die on me. It'd make the bridge look bad."
"WE'RE NOT GONNA DIE!" Naruto shouted. "We're gonna show you how awesome we are!"
My heartbeat stuttered at the word "die," but I shoved the flash of memory—mud, blood, a log in the woods—back into its box.
"Come on, Naruto," I said, nudging him toward the door. "We need to pack. You can yell at him on the way."
"I'm not yelling," he protested, already yelling. "I'm just very passionate!"
"About screaming," Sasuke muttered.
We filed out of the office, Kakashi bringing up the rear like a bored scarecrow with a hidden kill count.
As the door swung shut behind us, I glanced back once.
The Third watched us go, pipe smoke curling around him, eyes sharp and sad. Tazuna stood stiffly by the desk, shoulders tight.
Two old men with too many ghosts.
In the hallway, Naruto spun around, walking backwards so he could talk with his whole body.
"Did you see that?" he crowed. "Our first real mission! We're leaving the village! We're gonna go to another country! This is gonna be so cool!"
His chakra flared bright and hot and wild, joy drowning out the scraps of leftover frustration.
I smiled despite myself.
"Yeah," I said. "Cool."
And terrifying. And important.
Land of Waves had broken me the first time I'd watched it.
This time, I was in it.
I adjusted my glasses, tightened my grip on my pouch of ink and tags, and told the nervous part of my brain, You survived one stupid forest. You can survive this.
Probably.
Maybe.
"Hey, Sylvie," Naruto said, falling into step beside me. "Race you to the gate once we're packed?"
"Absolutely not," I said.
"Yes," he translated, and took off running anyway.
Sasuke sighed, then followed at a slower pace.
Kakashi drifted along behind us like a shadow that read smut.
I walked in the middle, heartbeat loud in my ears, thinking of bridges and mist and a boy with a hunter's mask and a girl's face, and of how many ways a world could break people even when they meant well.
This is not staying C-rank, I thought again, with grim certainty.
But then, neither was I.