A.N.: Hello, author here. I would like to inform you that my April fool's chapter has been removed and moved to a separate collection on AO3, which is why this is still 'only' chapter 18. Also, for the duration of this upcoming 4-5 chapter arc I will upload 1 chapter per week starting today.

Leave a review if you enjoyed. I need them to sustain my soul in the mortal plane.

Chapter 18: Papers, Please

Although lacking an affinity turned out not to be an insurmountable problem if given enough practice, it was still a chore. Only thanks to my clones' continued—and begrudging—efforts polishing my control did I manage to somewhat keep up with my teammates' progress. Not all too impressive considering Akuma was the only one of us who'd even graduated past step one—lighting a leaf on fire.

Yuu was about 70 percent done with his own goal, which involved solidifying a clump of earth so it wouldn't break apart when thrown at a target. Meanwhile I could barely manage to make it look like a leaf had collected some morning dew—far off from turning it soggy as I was supposed to.

I would have probably given up even pursuing elemental ninjutsu entirely if not for Hayate insisting that our progress was prodigiously quick compared to the average chunin—something I personally thought said more about the average chunin than about my own skill. Prodigious or not, my efforts were too slow to nail down the Hiding in the Mist technique as soon as I hoped.

A shame, since robbing my enemies of their sight would have paired well with my sensory ability, and—more importantly—would have provided a way to prepare team seven for their eventual confrontation with Zabuza.

Because yes, they indeed somehow still managed to be assigned to exactly the same mission as they canonically had been.

How had Kakashi managed to be so diligently out of character, and yet still taken the exact same mission to Wave? Was their act in the mission office all just a charade and Hiruzen had long assigned him the mission or something? Was this just some predestined fate of the universe? Was it the result of some two-bit author who couldn't come up with more creative events than following the canonical storyline?

Whatever. It was probably for the best that they got the mission instead of some other team, like mine, anyway. Team seven completed it without casualties originally, and they were a lot more prepared this time than last—not in the least because I helped Naruto pick out every conceivable item he might need for an extended mission.

A medkit, extra food, reading material, antivenom, soldier pills, and about two dozen explosive tags—I'd finally found a design I was happy with after much trial and error. None of all this extra prep stopped my nerves from going on overdrive on the day of his departure, however.

"Are you sure you have everything you'll need?" I asked for what must have been the hundredth time.

"You're the one who helped pack the storage scroll," Naruto responded, rolling his eyes.

Said scroll was tucked away somewhere inside his backpack beside other objects he might need without the added hassle of unsealing them first.

"Yeah, but maybe I forgot something," I argued. "Let's just double check to be sure."

Naruto hoisted his bag off the floor and out of my reach. "I'm not gonna unseal and reseal everything again. If I really forgot something I can just buy it in the village when we get there."

I held back a wince. "I guess you're right. Just… be careful out there. Missions aren't always what they seem."

"Yeah yeah, look underneath the underneath," Naruto said. "You don't need to act like Kakashi-sensei. I'll be fine," Naruto assured once again, slinging the backpack over his shoulders. "And if not, you gave me enough explosives to level a building."

I grimaced. Hopefully the bridge would be alright—my savings certainly weren't.

"Okay… I guess this is goodbye then," I reluctantly said, before wrapping him in a tight hug. "Also, if you happen to see a beautiful girl, she's not your enemy."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind." Stupid, Satoya. "Just uhh, pay attention to people's hearts."

Naruto snorted. "Are you giving me love advice?"

"Nevermind."

"Whatever you say, ~Satoya~."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll see you in a few weeks, Naruto. Don't annoy the client too much."

"Only if they don't annoy me," he replied with a noise of dissatisfaction. He then gave me a mock-salute and headed outside to meet his team.

I could stop him. There was still time to come clean about my knowledge and tell Naruto everything. To save him from the heartbreak of Haku and Zabuza's deaths. To stop the conflict before it—

I snapped back to attention when I felt the cool metal of my door handle in my palm. What am I doing? I hadn't even put my shoes on yet. Hell, I was still in my pyjamas. I sheepishly returned to my room to change into my training gear.

Satwoya was analysing a barrier array at my desk. "You didn't do something we'll regret, did you?"

"No," I replied. "Do you really have so little faith in me?"

"Just keep in mind that no matter how loyal Naruto is to his friends, he loves the village just as much."

I held my tongue and focused on getting properly dressed. Besides the various weights strapped to my body underneath, most of my outfit was fairly nondescript. Standard issue dark grey pants and a purple t-shirt with self-forged metal body armour overtop.

Oh, and of course you couldn't forget about the sandals worn by seemingly everyone in the Land of fire. I hated them, but I hated the idea of getting a custom pair even more—you wouldn't catch me dead in steel-toed boots. At least it made disguising myself easier if I didn't need to transform the shoes.

I eventually wanted to add some gauntlets too, but those were still a work in progress. Nevertheless, I thought the young man in my wardrobe mirror looked quite dashing in his shinobi outfit.

"You gonna ogle your reflection all day or will you leave me in peace to meet with your team?" snarked Satwoya. "You don't need a mirror to check yourself out anyway."

I stared at Satwoja who was still in his pyjamas and hunched over the desk like a gremlin.

"Ehhh, I'm not too sure about that," I noted aloud as I grabbed my ninja tools and reluctantly fastened a tanto to my side.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I left his question unanswered and was out of earshot a moment later.

After team seven was sent on their first C-rank mission, it was only a matter of time for other teams to follow suit. Hayate handed us ours after a few days, stating he'd gotten 'one of the good ones'—whatever that meant.

The client was a merchant by the name of Tsuruhide Morimoto whom we would escort across the land of Fire, ending up in a major city by the name of Yao, situated near the border to both the Land of Canyons and Land of Grass. We would remain there for a few days so Tsuruhide could sell off his wares before returning back to Konoha.

According to Hayate this C-rank was routinely cycled between genin teams as an introduction to long-distance travel. It was a good deal for the merchant, since he was basically getting jounin-level protection for cheap. Not that we expected to face any real opposition; from what I could tell we'd mostly just act as a deterrent.

Unlike for Naruto's mission, I wasn't all too concerned about what things I needed to bring along to ensure my survival. Instead, I used our last two days of prep time to brush up on all manner of regional geography and add the finishing touches to my hopefully realistic-seeming bundle of records regarding the BBEGs of this world.

While I didn't trust Konoha's leadership to not go off and do something stupid like try and take over the world if I told them everything I knew, I still wanted to stop Akatsuki before they got out of hand. I also included some more near-term relevant information—such as a warning about the chunin exams—since I didn't want to risk any of my friends dying because of pesky butterflies.

Of course, I needed to make sure the supplied info wouldn't be traced back to me. Doomsaying required more authenticity than some kid spouting 'trust me bro'. Decreasing my risk of getting mind-whammied by Inoichi or mentally compelled by Danzou's stolen Sharingan was also a nice bonus.

The meat of the issue was figuring out how to anonymously hand over information—ideally to someone Konoha trusted—without making it seem like baseless BS.

Jiraiya to the rescue… maybe. I had no idea how his spy network actually functioned. Nor did I know how spy networks on Earth had functioned. I also had no clue who I would need to contact.

Hopefully any break of protocol would be brushed aside in light of the news I brought. If I framed it in a way that made it seem like the information's procurer had died, and handing it over in an unconventional way was a result of some fallback plan, perhaps Konoha would lend it a bit of credence.

Especially once my predictions about the chunin exams and beyond started coming true. To my luck we'd be close to the Hidden Sound, which should add some authenticity.

So, after a long slog of crafting a ton of intentionally messy, but still thorough and hopefully realistic notes—thank you Kage Bunshin—I shoved the whole collection into a storage seal and hid it away at the bottom of my travel kit. All that was left to do was to deliver it to some kind of courier service.

Details for future Satoya to figure out on the road.

We met our client at the crack of dawn to get as much travelling done while the sun was out as we could. We would be making a few detours, so the trip was expected to take about two weeks before reaching our final stop—more than enough time to plan.

"Good morning, Tsuruhide-san," Hayate greeted. "Have the preparations gone well?"

Wares from Konoha's chakra-savvy craftspeople could fetch quite a high price across the country—as Akuma's dad could attest. In addition to a crate of security seals hidden under the front cart's driver's seat, the wagons were filled with the village's finest tools and luxury goods.

"Yes, everything is in order," Tsuruhide confirmed. "I hope getting up early wasn't a problem?"

That question seemed directed at my friends and me rather than Hayate, so I answered, "Our training starts early every day. We are quite alright."

"Speak for yourself," Akuma grumbled, getting hip-bumped by Yuu in response.

Our client smiled at the exchange. "I will be in your care, then."

Tsuruhide would be riding a horse in front, while the two freight wagons trailed behind. The rest of us would be walking on foot alongside the two carts to cover the sides while Hayate would act as our rearguard. After a few last minute safety checks at the gate, our group set off.

I was quite excited to see what a city from a fantasy manga universe might have to offer. In my eyes, anything would be a step up compared to the drab cuboid erections populating most modern day metropoles. Sadly, no matter how amazing our end-goal might be, the trip itself was rather disappointing.

We spent most of our days surrounded by forest on either side, travelling along a well-trodden dirt path, with occasional changes in scenery in the form of crop fields, rivers, and hills. By the time night fell we'd stop at various small hamlets tactically placed along the road.

We did a bit of training when we found the time, but since this was a paid job we couldn't really justify distractions—much as I disliked just walking around and keeping an eye out for danger that never came. At least Hayate was lenient enough that I could keep a clone on my shoulders to work on nature transformation or continue analysing the barrier seal I'd recently purchased.

The long trek also afforded me the opportunity to ask about that courier service I was hoping existed. Hayate and Tsuruhide were both more than willing to broach the subject, and I honestly felt kind of stupid when I heard Tsuruhide's piece of advice.

The courier ninja service. Tsuruhide sang their praises, citing their outstanding performance and discretion. He hadn't outright stated it but definitely gave me the impression that courier ninja were a lot more trustworthy for this kind of thing than regular ninja.

Hayate was less keen on them—likely because they worked outside of Konoha's jurisdiction—but even he had to agree that they took their jobs seriously and were a good choice if you wanted something delivered without hassle, especially across borders.

There was but one issue: money. Ninja were expensive, and courier ninja weren't an exception. Delivering a single letter cost as much as a D-rank mission, while delivering something heftier was closer to C-rank. The cash I'd packed was barely enough to pay for their service plus a couple of snacks from a street vendor.

Alas, beggars couldn't be choosers. With security as my primary concern, visiting the courier ninja post office in Yao would almost certainly be my best option. An unknown face wouldn't stick out in a tourist city.

All I was left to do for now was wait until we got there.

After an excruciatingly long trek across the country that was about as densely populated as rural Northern America, followed by a steep hike along a mountain range, we finally arrived.

Nestled in between the base of two mountains sat the entrance to Yao—a giant wall carved from sturdy, smooth stone with two watchtowers on either side and a large metal portcullis in the middle. Add some spikes and it could be mistaken for the gate to Mordor. Even the giant line of carts, horses, and pedestrians all crammed onto the same narrow pathway looked a bit like an army on its way to besiege the city.

Or less fantastically, like the line at your average airport check in.

I grimaced from the memory. "How long does this usually take?"

"We're here just a day shy of the annual Fire Festival," Tsuruhide remarked. "With this many visitors we'll likely need to wait at least two hours."

Darn. "Does there happen to be a secret passage guarded by a giant spider somewhere we can use instead?"

Tsuruhide laughed. "Boy, if there was such a thing, I'd be the first to suggest it."

Double darn.

Shelob could have been some good practice for the forest of death. It would probably dampen the mood, though—or any giant predators stalking the nearby wilderness for that matter. Then again, according to the bits of geography knowledge I'd gathered, Yao's fortified position allowed it to remain intact throughout the warring states period and all three shinobi world wars. It could probably handle some pesky predators.

Back in the day it had even been governed as a self-sufficient sovereign city-state and was only seized about seventy years ago when the Daimyo hired the newly united Konoha shinobi to depose its leadership. Behind those walls stood some of the oldest architecture in the whole continent.

Not that this changed how I felt about standing in line, or being around such huge crowds, or even just walking around for hours on end.

"Despite such a high number of people, it shouldn't possibly take that long," Yuu said, speaking from my soul. "Not unless the gatekeepers are especially slow."

Tsuruhide chuckled. "Don't underestimate bureaucracy. Yao has many foreign visitors that all require special permission to enter the city. The border guard truthfully got a lot more efficient than it used to be. When the system was first implemented this line could have taken us five hours."

Akuma looked like someone just spat in her cereal. "Don't we get special permission as Konoha nin? Why can't we just skip ahead?"

"Your ninja registration documents aren't enough to allow entry into most establishments, including our hotel," Hayate explained, "We will need to get ourselves permits as well."

"I'd like to see 'em try and keep us out," Akuma said with a challenging smirk.

Hayate cleared his throat. "They won't allow us legal entry. Not that I wouldn't enjoy the challenge of smuggling three genin past a few guards, but I'd prefer not sharing my bed."

"Who said anything about sneaking?" Akuma interjected.

"A martial display would surely quell the rabble," Yuu agreed. He then aimed a wink at Akuma and held his hand out in front of my face. "Squire, hand me an explosive."

"My my, how the noble hath fallen. Has your lust made you forget that subtlety is the cornerstone of class?" I asked. "I'm with Hayate; infiltration is the better choice."

"Still not a choice I recommend," Hayate cut in. "And as we're getting close to the line, we best quit talking about causing harm."

"Without causing harm, then," Akuma agreed. Then, chuckling evilly as she stepped up beside me, she stage-whispered, "You got good calligraphy. What about forging some documents?"

"I'd need to know the format first. Maybe if we get one from the border contro-oh wait. I guess it's hopeless."

She rolled her eyes. "Spoilsport."

I shrugged. In all seriousness I probably couldn't successfully forge an official document even if I had the needed tools. In the end, we simply had to stand in line, which wound up taking closer to three hours than two thanks to some idiot from Wind Country getting himself caught carrying illegal narcotics by a hired Inuzuka guard. On the plus side, our own documents were processed relatively quickly due to said Inuzuka being acquainted with Hayate.

When we finally stepped beyond the wall, the narrow canyon expanded into a wide open valley—an idyllic space hidden behind mountaintops as if carved by a deity's hands. The setting sun added to the effect, giving the place a picturesque, golden glow.

The geography alone would have already been enough to make hikers swarm the place, but whatever magnificent bastards were in charge of designing the city had done their damnedest to outdo nature.

Walking toward our hotel downtown was like going on a trip backwards through time, the buildings shifting from modern designs similar to Konoha to ancient Japanese architectural styles. The crown jewel of opulence sat at Yao's very centre, an imposing palace that would turn even Louis the 14th green with envy.

I'd obviously be lying if I said I wasn't impressed, and based on the sparkles in my friends' eyes I wasn't the only one. However, the sour, slimy cynic inside my soul surmised such splendour never came free.

Peering past the downtown bluster toward the distant districts, I was disappointed to find those presumptions validated. Near the valley's edge where flat ground turned perilously steep, beautiful houses turned into cobbled together shacks. As a former wage-slave the obvious wealth disparity left a bitter taste in my mouth.

Yao had a slum. Why had neither Hayate nor Tsuruhide mentioned this? Under the guise of innocent curiosity I asked, "Who designed those buildings on the mountainside?"

"Designed? Don't make me laugh," Tsuruhide replied with a sneer. "No architect worth their salt would erect such hideous houses. The people living there built them themselves."

"What hideous houses?" Akuma asked.

"The immigrant districts," Hayate supplied. "Past wars have forced many people from their homes. Yao was a safe space for them."

"But there's nothing forcing them to stay here now," Tsuruhide grumbled. "The lazy louts just don't want to get back to working real jobs. Why would they, when stealing from visiting travellers is so much easier?"

Hayate's aura hitched and he gave me the same look that my mom used to give me when I brought up the LGBTQ+ community around my grandma. I must have just stepped on a landmine.

Thankfully, Yuu came to our rescue before Tsuruhide could launch into a tirade. "The inner-city style rather reminds me of the architecture in the Land of Iron. Did Samurai ever live here?"

"Hah, while it's a commonly held belief that Yao copied its designs, historical records actually indicate…"

To our collective relief, the distraction worked, and we soon reached our hotel, checked in, and got ready for bed; it was too late for sightseeing and we were all pooped from the endless walking.

After a buffet-style breakfast early next morning came the time to execute my master plan.

Sneak away.

Deliver the package.

?

Profit.

I already hit a snag on point 1. The hotel room was shared, and the bathroom was attached to our suite. That made the ol' clone switcheroo a whole lot harder. Not an impossible obstacle, it just cost me a little pride to tell my team they wouldn't want to enter the bathroom once I was done with it.

After a bit of groaning to disguise the clone's summoning sound that I hadn't quite perfected suppressing, my clone headed off to join my comrades. I stayed behind, silently frozen in place for a couple of minutes before commencing step 2.

Dropping off the parcel necessitated a good disguise. What did that entail? For one, it couldn't be traced back to me, meaning that neither chakra signature nor appearance should in any way resemble 'Satoya Ibui'. The chakra upkeep also had to be low enough for the technique to last multiple hours.

I was stuck in a catch 22, since the technique's cost increased the more I strayed from my natural shape. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, it turned out 'natural shape' was a flexible statement when it came to transmigrated souls.

Poor Jonathan Golsby had seen better days. Haggard, gangly and downtrodden—it was a miracle the man even managed to stay upright as he trudged down the street. Just being stuck in his body was depressing, or maybe that was just the faulty brain chemistry speaking.

Judgy people certainly didn't help matters. Local pedestrians kept throwing nervous glances and whispering about 'troublemakers'. Snippy tourists had the gall to scoff as they passed by in their carriages. Even innocently asking for a pamphlet with a city map from a newspaper stand was accompanied by the cutting words that 'perhaps this can help find your way back to where you belong'.

Eugh, whatever. Jonathan didn't look anything like me, yet cost a pittance to maintain. I just had to suck it up for a few hours. That is, if I even managed to go that long without getting arrested for disturbing public order. I felt like it was only a matter of time before some concerned citizen reported me to a patrolling guard.

I should have given Jonathan a facelift before leaving the hotel.

It was too late to change things now. People had already seen me out and about, so it'd be twice as suspicious if a healthier-looking version suddenly popped up out of nowhere. I was almost at the post office, anyway. Only around one more corner, up a few steps, and… I came face to face with a big bold sign nailed to the front door.

"No service without legal documentation."