Omake 1 - The Hokage's Request | In Naruto With An Achievement System

Not a full-chapter, just a small Omake. This doesn't really affect the story overall, so this may or may not be “canon� it's up to you.

— Omake: The Hokage’s Request —

My back cracked like a dry twig as I stretched, arms reaching for the sky.

It was the fifth day of this agricultural marathon. The insides of my nails were stained permanently with dirt, my chakra coils felt like they had been scrubbed with sandpaper, and I was pretty sure I smelled like wet dog and fertilizer.

Still, looking out over the valley, the results were undeniable. Rows upon rows of shimmering, chakra-infused herbs swayed in the gentle breeze. We had enough stockpiled now to supply the front lines for months, with enough seeds left over to start a natural, self-sustaining cycle here and in several other places after the war. Just a few more days and we’d be done.

I was about to sit back down and start prepping the next batch of seeds when I saw him approaching.

Hiruzen Sarutobi walked across the tilled earth, his usually confident stride looking... hesitant. He looked serious, which was normal, but there was an underlying nervousness to his posture that I’d never seen before. What could possibly make the God of Shinobi look like a kid about to ask his parents for money?

"Hokage-sama?" I asked, eyeing him warily.

He didn't stand on ceremony. He sighed and sat down right on the dirt next to me, his combat gear creaking slightly. He reached into the pocket of his pants, so close I could feel a small infusion of chakra as he pulled out his pipe, tapping it against his knee before filling the bowl with practiced ease.

Then, he offered it to me.

I blinked, staring at the wooden stem. "Sir?"

"Go on," he said, gesturing vaguely.

I took it. In this life, I was technically a child. In my previous life, I’d had my fair share of vices. It felt odd holding a pipe again, the weight of it familiar in a hand that shouldn't know it.

Hiruzen snapped his fingers, a tiny, controlled flame of chakra igniting at the tip of his thumb. He held it over the bowl as I took a tentative drag. The tobacco caught, glowing cherry-red.

I exhaled a long, thin stream of grey smoke, watching it curl and drift into the afternoon sky. The nicotine hit was mild, but the act itself... it was grounding. I felt the tension in my shoulders drop a fraction of an inch.

"Sometimes," Hiruzen murmured, watching the smoke disperse, "you give me the impression of a much older man, Yuuki-kun."

I was too tired to panic about my cover or come up with a witty deflection. I just hummed around the stem of the pipe, letting the smoke do the talking. His tone wasn't accusatory, just observant.

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked.

"It was relaxing," I admitted, handing the pipe back to him.

He took it, wiping the stem absentmindedly with his thumb before taking a drag himself. He held the smoke for a moment, then let it out in a heavy sigh.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked suddenly. "For sending you to face the Nine-Tails?"

The question was blunt. No politics, no flowery language. Just an old man asking a kid if he hated him.

I looked at him. "It's... complicated. I understand why you sent me. Logically, it was the right call. Strategically, it saved the village." I picked at a loose thread on my pants. "But understanding doesn't stop it from sucking."

"I get it," he said softly.

The sunlight caught his face, highlighting the deep lines around his eyes and mouth. He looked ancient at that moment, far older than his years.

"You aren't the first, you know," he continued, his gaze distant. "Tsunade... She struggles with my decisions too. It is the curse of this hat. Whoever puts it on becomes responsible for everyone. Not just themselves, not just their family, but the whole village. And sometimes, protecting the whole means sacrificing the one you care about."

He looked at me, his dark eyes sad. "It is a heavy thing, to trade a life for a village. Even when it is necessary."

"I understand," I said. And I did. It didn't make the memory of the burning chakra any less painful, but I understood.

We sat in silence for a minute, passing the pipe back and forth once more. The tobacco was nearly burned through.

Hiruzen tapped the ash out onto the ground. He looked at the empty bowl with a critical eye.

"Now," he said, his voice shifting, becoming lighter, almost conspiratorial. "If only I had stronger tobacco. This stuff... it barely takes the edge off these days."

He turned to look at me, a small, sly smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I stared at him. The realization hit me a second later. The nervousness. The heart-to-heart. The sharing of the pipe.

I let out a dry chuckle, shaking my head. "You came over here just to get me to make you mutated tobacco, didn't you? All that about the curse of the hat... that was just the setup."

His lips twitched. "Can't a conversation have more than one reason?�

"Unbelievable," I muttered, though I couldn't help the grin that formed. "The God of Shinobi, hustling a genin for a better smoke."

"A Chunin now," he corrected smoothly. "And think of it as... a contribution to national security. A relaxed Hokage makes better decisions."

I stood up, brushing the dirt off my pants. "Get the seeds here tomorrow. I'll do it for a few generations only. I'm not responsible if you get addicted to chakra-infused nicotine."

"Deal," he said instantly, standing up with a spryness that belied his earlier weariness.

Across the field, I saw Orochimaru and Tsunade approaching, probably wondering why the Hokage and their student were sitting in the dirt smoking.

Hiruzen winked at me, pocketing his pipe. "Our secret, Yuuki-kun."

"Yeah, yeah," I sighed. "Just bring the seeds." Despite that,

I felt my lips form a dry amused smile.