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[NUT] Chapter : 17
🕑 Added 2025-05-28 10:38:22 +0000 UTC“Oh? Name?” Itachi asked, uninterested in the rank but curious nonetheless. As long as it wasn’t a genin, he wasn’t too worried.
“Yoshiji Yamamoto. Civilian-born. Known for his brute strength and massive chakra reserves. Konoha only offered ten million ryo for him, so I guess he didn’t have access to any of your village’s top secrets—wasn’t worth much.”
Juzo leaned back and continued, “He had vanished for years, changed his look, kept a low profile. But recently, he ticked off a wealthy individual who decided to double the bounty to twenty million and leaked fresh intel. That’s how he got exposed.”
Juzo casually recited the intel, silently mocking Itachi’s last-minute cramming in his head.
If only he’d asked sooner, Juzo thought smugly.
Little did he know, Itachi had asked back in the Rain Village—but Juzo had been too drunk to respond properly, and now he had the nerve to act superior.
“Why’s Pain assigning us to a mission like this now?” Itachi asked. “Aren’t we supposed to stay low profile for the time being?”
Juzo gave a small smirk, his voice calm. “As long as we don’t reveal who we are, no one will connect this to Akatsuki. And even if they did… they wouldn’t know what we’re really up to.”
“Oh… right.”
Itachi remembered that, according to the other villages’ intel, Akatsuki was still just a mercenary group—one that did whatever it was paid to do.
No need to overreact. Nothing to worry about… yet.
Later that day, the two entered the city quietly and checked into a small inn. They kept to themselves, looking no different from wandering travelers.
They’d hoped to scout the area by day—but the sheer number of people and watchful eyes made them abandon that plan. Their identities weren’t exactly spotless, so they decided to wait until nightfall to make a move.
“Is there a festival or something? Why’s the city so crowded?”
Itachi tossed his hat aside in their room and collapsed onto the floor, lying sideways in a lazy sprawl. One hand was planted in front of his stomach, fingers tapping the floor rhythmically like he was playing an invisible piano. His other arm propped up his head, legs draped casually one over the other.
Juzo shot him a disapproving look, then picked up the teapot on the small table, poured a cup, and downed it.
“I’ve never been here before,” he answered, calm and cryptic as ever.
“…Would it kill you to drop the act?” Itachi groaned, pushing himself upright and sitting cross-legged. Feeling a bit stuffy, he unfastened the top of his robe.
Itachi’s robe slipped slightly, revealing the mesh-lined undershirt beneath—and a pale collarbone.
He lazily poured himself a cup of tea, took a sip… and frowned.
“Tasteless,” he muttered. “Let’s switch to something stronger.”
Juzo shot him a look of disdain.
“Drinking with you is so dull. You sip a single cup like it's some ancient ceremony.”
Itachi shrugged.
“We’re not in the middle of nowhere anymore. The setting’s decent, the mood’s not bad—I wouldn’t mind a few drinks now.”
His voice was calm, emotionless, as if explaining something mundane.
The room fell into an awkward silence, Juzo seemingly at a loss for words at Itachi’s shameless attempt to justify his sudden change of heart.
“So, old man,” Itachi said after a pause, “how do you think we should handle this mission?”
“Easy,” Juzo replied without hesitation. “Once night falls, we expand our sensory range, split up, and scan for all chakra signatures. Weed out the target—he's bound to show up.”
“Not bad,” Itachi said mildly, though inwardly he sighed.
Very Juzo… direct and reckless.
Juzo blinked at the unexpected praise. For a moment, Itachi didn’t seem quite as annoying.
“Heh. Alright then,” Juzo said, sitting up straighter. “Let’s hear what you would do.”
“I actually think your method is solid—simple and direct,” Itachi said, nodding. “But if it were me… I’d wait. With a bounty this high and a target tied to Konoha, there’ll be plenty of other bounty hunters sniffing around. Let them wear each other down first. When the dust settles… we step in and finish the job.”
Juzo pictured the chaotic scenario Itachi described and shivered slightly.
“I dunno… seems risky to me. If too many people show up, we might be in over our heads. We’re just two.”
His earlier bravado had vanished, replaced by cautious realism.
“I’ve already sensed a lot of movement. There are some dangerous ones out there, and they’re all in their prime,” Itachi said, explaining patiently. “Your plan might draw too much attention—and provoke the crowd. We could become the new target.”
He’d praised Juzo’s plan up front on purpose, knowing the man’s pride could get in the way. Compliment first, then counter—classic soft strategy.
“They might not even dare to challenge us,” Juzo grumbled, not fully convinced.
“Maybe not at first,” Itachi admitted. “But once they see us take the bounty right from under their noses… you think they’ll just let that slide?”
He paused, then added quietly,
“No plan is flawless. Three parts planning… seven parts power.”
There was a hint of melancholy in his voice, as if speaking from experience.
"Let’s talk about it tonight."
Juzo’s voice was calm as he responded to Itachi’s rather thoughtful comment. In his mind, Itachi was simply overthinking things.
After all, Juzo himself was an S-rank rogue ninja, one of the original Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist. He held countless secrets of the Hidden Mist Village—and yet here he was, still alive and well.
Even though he was considered a defector, Juzo didn’t believe that the Hidden Mist, one of the Five Great Villages, was any weaker than Konoha.
As for Itachi, his background was even more intriguing. He and his younger brother were the sole surviving members of the once-feared Uchiha clan—descendants of the legendary Uchiha Madara.
His brother remained protected within Konoha’s walls, untouchable. Meanwhile, Itachi had become a figure of global attention. The potential of his bloodline alone would attract hunters from across the shinobi world, should his identity ever be revealed.
Juzo’s eyes drifted to the bamboo hat lying beside Itachi and couldn't help but feel a quiet sense of unease.
"Alright then, I’m taking a nap," Itachi said as he stretched out on the floor and closed his eyes.
Juzo watched him in silence for a moment before muttering under his breath, “Kid’s got no respect for his elders…”
Bored, he reached into his robe and pulled out a half-finished wooden carving. Gripping a kunai, he resumed his work, whittling away in the fading light.
But after just a few strokes, he paused.
The image in his mind—the figure he was trying to recreate—had begun to blur. Details once etched clearly in memory were slipping away.
Time passed quickly, and by late afternoon, Juzo was still holding the barely-carved figure. He sighed in frustration and tucked it away with a look of quiet defeat.
He stepped out briefly, asking a passing waiter to bring food to their room. They’d need to eat before moving into the night’s work.
The sound of the door opening stirred Itachi from his light sleep. Without a word, he sat up and reached for a drink.
"The food will take a while. Why’d you get up?" Juzo asked, pouring himself tea.
"I noticed the noise outside has calmed down. It’s almost time for us to eat—and act."
Setting down the teacup, Itachi’s tone was soft, but his demeanor had grown sharper.
Juzo didn't reply. He paced the room instead, stretching out his legs. Hours of kneeling had made them stiff and numb.
Despite the hotel being busy, the food arrived swiftly.
They ate in silence, embodying the old rule of dining without speaking, their focus entirely on the meal.
Before long, the table was cleared, and their plates were empty.
Itachi picked his teeth absentmindedly, an act that made Juzo visibly cringe.
"Kid, look at me—razor-sharp teeth and not a speck stuck. But you? Barely Fourteen, and you’re always picking food out of your teeth. Cut down on the sweets."
Itachi offered no reply, only a glance.
After the waiter cleared the dishes, the two donned their bamboo hats and left the hotel.
Night had settled over the city. The once-busy streets were now calm, most shops shuttered for the day. Only a few lingered—late-night diners, loitering drunks, and wandering troublemakers.
As they reached a fork in the road, Juzo asked quietly, “Split up or stay together?”
“Together,” Itachi replied coolly. “We’re just mapping the area. No need to overthink it.”
“Got it.”
They continued down the dimly-lit streets, the soft glow of lanterns casting long shadows behind them. But as they walked, Itachi couldn’t help but feel self-conscious.
We really stand out, he thought.
Their attire—particularly the bamboo hats—drew odd looks from passersby.
Who wears a straw hat at night?
