Uchiha Makoto casually rolled up the appointment letter stamped with the word "Chunin," still carrying the distinctive smell of ink paste from the Hokage Building, and tucked it into the innermost compartment of his Ninja Tool Pouch.
He had not even had time to figure out what perks he could squeeze out of today.
A brand-new scroll bearing a mission number landed in front of him.
Uchiha Makoto stared at the scroll, then at Orochimaru across the desk, whose expression was as placid as though he had just finished a glass of water. Makoto felt the vein at his temple doing a tap dance.
"Sensei! I haven't even broken in my Chunin vest yet!"
He tried to melt Orochimaru's sympathy-which might well have been colder than ten-thousand-year-old ice-with his most sincere gaze.
"Even if we don't get a celebration, at least let us catch our breath!"
Orochimaru could not even be bothered to lift his eyelids. His pale, slender fingers tapped the scroll, his voice as flat as though he were reading a textbook's table of contents.
"Being a Chunin means a higher mission quota and more direct responsibility. A promotion is not a vacation."
Beside him, Kakashi had already begun his habitual inspection of his shuriken edges and the number of explosive tags in his Ninja Tool Pouch. Without looking up, he chimed in.
"Things haven't been peaceful lately. There's constant friction along the borders with the Land of Wind and the Land of Rain. The village is a little short-handed. A lot of teams already have missions scheduled through next month."
He paused, then added, "Our team's workload has been relatively light so far. We already have Sensei's reluctance to take routine missions to 'thank' for that."
That hit the nail on the head. Uchiha Makoto pursed his