Chapter Text
It took two more days before shinobi from other villages finally started coming, and Naoki starts decreasing the amount of times he's been outside, not wanting to start a fight with the ones coming from Kumo. He supposed that it was a perk of arriving earlier than the others, he muses with no small amount of satisfaction, more or less content with all the frozen treats he's gotten to taste all over Konoha.
(He doesn't think about the fact that he's the one picking fights with them most of the time, never failing to taunt them with passive-aggressive remarks that they never fail to see through. It wasn't like he was trying very hard to hide his disdain for them anyways.)
But decreasing didn't mean stopping, so Naoki took the liberty of accepting the offer of one Mitarashi Anko for a taste of some cold hanami dango—which she had promised to pay for.
He took his time walking on his way to the dango shop she supposedly frequents, buying a few scoops of ice cream on the way since he can. While he enjoys his treat, he keeps an eye on any foreign chakra signatures that could've snuck past him. After all, it won't do him any good if he slacks off and lowers his guard, even if he has enjoyed his time so far here in Konoha.
Nothing stood out to him so far, sensing no one but civilians, which wasn't exactly as reassuring as it sounds. A shinobi could put a tight enough leash on their chakra, and pull it back enough to match a civilians.
So it's not exactly a very reliable method of feeling out outliers in a crowd when they can blend into it, but Naoki does it anyways—as a precaution if anything.
He finishes his ice cream before dismissing the genjutsu once he has his face covered again, just in time when he spots a head of purple hair standing just outside a dango shop. Quietly, with her back to him, he approaches with steady steps.
"You've certainly got a lot of energy to look this chipper so early in the morning," he says in greeting, smiling when the shinobi Anko was talking to flinched, looking at him in equal parts of surprise and caution.
Anko turned to him, mischief in her eyes and looking unsurprised at his sudden appearance. "There you are!" She grins with teeth, crossing her hands as she leans on her hip. "We were wondering when you'll show up."
He raises a brow, and she merely blinks innocently at him. "You did not just seriously offer to pay dango for a Suna-nin."The shinobi next to her placed his hand over his head, looking and sounding to all the world like a stressed out babysitter.
"There's no rule saying I can't," Anko retorts, directing her attention back to Naoki and ignoring the unimpressed look the shinobi was giving her. "Sorry about Asuma, he's not exactly a morning person," she whispers to him, cupping a hand over her mouth as if she's uttering him a secret.
Sarutobi Asuma rolls his eyes at her, before ultimately deciding to ignore her as he pulls out a cigarette. "I can tell," Naoki whispers back, leaning towards her as he stares and squints at Asuma.
He's certainly not judging this guy for smoking at seven in the morning, but if he was, he wouldn't be able to say anything about it since he ate ice cream just earlier without eating anything else before hand.
Anko snickers, patting him on the shoulder in a manner that tells him she approves of him playing along with her. He winks at her in response, making her grin cheekily up at him—which was much friendlier than the first one she greeted him with, he muses.
With haste, she grabs him, and Naoki let's her tug him inside the shop. Oddly enough, he takes note of how she grabs his cloak instead of his arm, like she did the first time when they met a few days ago.
— - —
He carefully picks up the stick of cold dango, eyeing the different flavors with glee. "We have hanami dango in Suna, but I'm in a bit of a food spree since we got here." He tells Anko as he starts eating under a genjutsu, ignoring how Asuma was squinting at him.
As if that would let him break past the illusion and let him see Naoki's face.
Jokes on him, his genjutsu isn't so easy to see through, since hiding his face from others was part of the reason he started using genjutsu. Though, admittedly he wasn't so good that a genjutsu specialist or an Uchiha won't be able to break his illusions, but it's enough to keep other people from seeing too much.
"I bet," Anko says through her own piece, she ignores Asuma's reprimanding look as she swallows. "I kept seeing you around, walking in and out a couple of Akimichi restaurants with all the glee of a kid on a sugar rush."
He snorts, chewing slowly and savoring the strawberry one before swallowing it. "Didn't know eating food from different restaurants warranted a stalker friend," he casually bites into the white one, humming at the sweet taste of the original dango flavor.
Asuma glanced at him, raising a brow. "You're not a shinobi from Konoha, it's protocol that any active Konoha-nin keep an eye out for outsiders."
Naoki rolls his eyes, before pointing the stick with the remaining matcha dango at him. "I'll be honest with you," he starts, glancing between Anko and Asuma. "I wasn't supposed to come this Chuunin Exam—I kind of just tagged along."
He took the last dango on his stick when he finishes, leaning back on his stool, chewing as he watches them process what he just told them.
The first one to do so was Anko, who barked out a laugh, looking at him with a spark in her eyes. "Well, no wonder why you seem like you're having the time of your life!"
"I am," he affirms, picking up his second stick of dango with no small amount of glee.
Asuma blinks at him, before sinking heavily into his seat and tiredly staring up at the ceiling, as if it held all the answers. "No wonder why indeed," he mutters seemingly to himself, then he sits up, glaring at him. "You weren't in the list expected to arrive just so you know."
"My bad," he says, with not an ounce of sympathy.
He hears Anko failing to hide her laugh, watching as Asuma closes his eyes before taking a long drag, not wanting to look at Naoki, who is smiling with his eyes.
— - —
After the second plate of dango, they bid Asuma farewell when he decided to head back to meet back with his team. Naoki personally thinks he's running away, but he opted to spare him from further teasing so he doesn't say anything.
The shinobi in Konoha aren't so bad, but he knows that they aren't as nice as they say they are, and with all that propaganda about the 'Will of Fire'—he can see that being true. Fire burns everything into nothing, after all, it doesn't discriminate.
He supposes that it's what's kept Konoha standing for this long. Despite its innocent facade and good reputation, it's more likely to have its own dark secrets. The brighter the light, the darker the shadow—or maybe it's more like: the bigger the tree, the deeper the roots go?
Naoki gives a mental shrug, tucking that away for future him to debate about before taking his third plate of dango and finally accepting that this might as well be his breakfast, considering its past eight in the morning at this point.
"You're still going to pay for this, right?" He asks as he bites off a piece, enjoying the strawberry flavor. It might be his favorite between the three flavors.
"Yep! I offered to, after all." Anko grabs for her own dango, it being her fifth plate.
It was a bit suspicious when she first approached him, but almost every caution he had was thrown out the window when she practically handed him a promise for a free treat. Though thinking about it now, it was a bit more like a deal than a simple offer.
"You can eat all the cold dango you want and I'll pay for it," she had promised, looking expectantly at him. "But you'll have to do me one favor—no questions asked!"
He had merely raised a brow at her, eyeing her with a bit of suspicion. "Are you bribing me for an IOU?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at her for a long, long moment.
Then, with a shrug, he accepted without so much as a thought.
Naoki wasn't so openly patriotic to his village anyhow, so it hadn't exactly been a secret to anyone that he wasn't as loyal as Baki—which was a high bar to match if he was going to be honest.
It was rather hilarious when he recalled the momentary shocked look Anko had when he accepted her offer so easily, even more so when he proceeded to shake her hand in a done-deal and sealed fashion. She immediately wiped off the shock on her face, and had grinned almost wildly up at him.
"So," Anko starts, finishing her fifth plate and going for her sixth. "Since you weren't on Suna's list, I never really got your name."
He smiles around the rim of his cup, sipping on iced tea. "Must've slipped my mind," he says, noncommittal. "Naoki," he tips his head, meeting her prying gaze.
"The most renowned puppet master's recent apprentice." She hums, more of a statement than a question. "Mitarashi Anko," she grins, all teeth and jagged fangs, like a viper ready to strike.
For a long moment he stares at the hand she offers him, but—as if something clicks into place, he takes her hand. "The snake sannin's former student," he smiles almost serenely, not unlike the calm before a sandstorm. "What a pleasant surprise."
It seems, Naoki thinks, that this was going to be the start of a life-changing friendship.
