Naruto : The System Files

Chapter no.44 Enter Umino Iruka

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Naruto, disguised as Tenten, found himself in the peculiar position of walking a tiny Japanese Chin dog through the park.

"Come on, you little bastard, or I'll punt you," he threatened the dog, though his heart wasn't really in the threat.

The dog, completely unfazed by Naruto's frustration, decided that moment was perfect for a bathroom break—right on Naruto's pants. Naruto's eyes widened in disbelief, and for a split second, he contemplated sending the tiny canine into orbit.

But before his annoyance could transform into action, a system notification popped up, diverting his attention.

[ Alert: World Quest Generated ]

[ Due to the close reputation between Umino Iruka and Player Naruto, a new quest has arisen from Iruka's current existential crisis. ]

[ Alert: World Quest ]

[ Quest Title: Iruka's Cheer-Up Mission ]

[ Objective: Umino Iruka is going through a tough time. As someone with a close bond to Iruka, your mission is to cheer him up. This can be achieved through thoughtful gestures, spending quality time, or providing meaningful assistance to lighten his burdens. ]

[ Rewards: ]

- [ 100 Reputation with Iruka. ]

- [ 10 Fuinjutsu Scrolls ]

[ Failure: ]

- [ Iruka is depressed. ]

[ Action Required: Acceptance or Declination of Quest ]

"Yatta!" he exclaimed, startling the dog, which scampered back a few steps, its eyes wide.

With a grin that stretched ear to ear, Naruto hurriedly returned the dog to its owner, barely containing his joy at having found the perfect excuse to ditch the dog. The mission was over, and Naruto couldn't have been happier to leave the little bastard behind.
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The sun wasn't yet up.

Konohagakure no Sato was clouded over by the sweet afterglows of early morning fog. Dewdrops of water drooped, coruscating, and the soft cold air hung in abeyance. The sky was tinted a brief dark blue. The birds were drugged and the insects were mute.

It was in this early tranquility, in which even the most fervent and steadfast of mothers would banish the thought of rousing from their depths of slumber, and the most eager of shop owners would assuage themselves that time was in their favor, that a brown haired man worked.

The Training Ground was desolate. One would easily be thought a mad man, to have been found present there at the ungodly hour. Yet, this was the strange, peculiar case. A rhythm had begun with the sound of labored breaths, not the variety expected of more sensitive activities of the night, oh no, rather, it was the sort that one would oft find coming from men who were fleeing from their lives, running, being chased, as though cheetahs had metamorphosed into demons from the beyond, and were hot on their tails.

Grunts of exertion followed in the same manner. The sounds, echoing dryly into the night air that one would have been forgiven if they assumed a vengeful spirit had risen with the intent of haunting the location with all the subtlety of a scorned lover plotting a swift comeuppance.

Beads of sweat mirrored dew drops. Falling in their own manner unto moist soil, mixing with the earth and forever marking it with the scents of human effort. The man in question allowed himself a brief sigh, a quick reprieve, before he rose, stretching his arms as far back as he could.