The next day, the roof of the Hokage's office was nearly blown off.
Naruto Uzumaki rolled around on the floor, kicking his limbs wildly in all directions.
"I don't want to catch cats! I don't want to weed! I want to fight big bad guys! I want to go on those super cool missions!"
Third Hokage Hiruzen Sarutobi bit down on his pipe, feeling his brain throbbing.
He glanced at Kakashi beside him, who also wore a deadpan expression.
Kakashi looked up at the ceiling, pretending not to see the leader's gaze.
"Alright, alright."
Hiruzen Sarutobi tapped the desk, causing the ashtray to rattle twice.
"Since you're so insistent, I'll give you a C-rank mission."
Naruto immediately bounced up from the floor, a snot bubble still hanging from his nose.
"Really? Old man, you're not lying to me?"
"An escort mission."
The Third Hokage waved his hand, and a drunken old man walked in through the door.
The old man clutched half a bottle of liquor in his hand, his face flushed red, wearing glasses.
"These are the ninja protecting me?"
Tazuna let out a drunken hiccup, pointing at Naruto, who was only as tall as his waist.
"Why are these all kids who haven't even grown their hair out? Especially this runt, he looks the most foolish."
Naruto was still grinning foolishly until Son Goten kindly reminded him with a remark.
"He's insulting you."
"I'm going to slaughter this old drunk!"
Just as Naruto rushed forward, Kakashi grabbed him by the back collar.
"This is the client, you can't kill him."
Kakashi sighed helplessly, glancing at the wall clock.
"Gather at the village gates in half an hour, go prepare your respective luggage and ninja tools."
"Dismissed."
Half an hour was enough for Son Goten to do a lot of things.
For instance, packing a few rations from Ichiraku Ramen, or "stocking up" from somewhere.
The Konoha Ninja Tool Shop.
This was a place Son Goten frequented, not to buy things, but mainly to see the store clerk.
The front desk was empty.
Son Goten familiarly skirted around to the back courtyard.
The courtyard door was ajar, revealing a narrow crack.
The rustling sound of friction from fabric came from within.
Son Goten had no sense of voyeuristic restraint, pushing the door open openly.
"Tenten, I've come to get..."
His words trailed off.
The sunlight in the courtyard was wonderful, spilling over the young woman standing before the mirror.
Tenten wore a brand-new red cheongsam.
This was clearly not a style suited for combat, but rather a more form-fitting casual wear that accentuated feminine softness.
She was lifting one leg, stepping onto a stone stool.
The hem of the cheongsam slid down with gravity, exposing a large section of white, taut thighs.
Those legs lacked an ounce of fat, possessing the tight lines of someone who practiced Taijutsu year-round, full of elasticity.
At that moment, Tenten lowered her head, her hands fiddling with the strapped ninja tool pouch situated at the top of her thigh.
The black straps cut into the snow-white flesh, leaving an extremely alluring, shallow indentation.
Because her movements were somewhat large, the side slit of the cheongsam was stretched open, revealing the same-colored undergarment edge within.
The sight was truly stimulating.
Son Goten stood at the door without even blinking his eyes.
Hearing the door open, Tenten immediately turned her head.
Their eyes met.
The air fell quiet for a moment.
"Ah-!"
A high-pitched scream pierced the sky.
Tenten's face flushed red, and without thinking, she snatched up a freshly sharpened Kunai from beside her and hurled it over.
"You perverted pervert! Who let you in!"
A cold flash.
The Kunai charged straight toward Son Goten's face with a rush of wind.
Son Goten didn't even move where he stood, merely raising his right hand casually.
"Clap."
That sharp Kunai was steadily pinched between his index and middle fingers.
He twirled the Kunai at his fingertips, a simple, disarming smile hanging on his face.
"Tenten, trying to murder your husband?"
Tenten hurriedly put her leg down, her hands covering the hem of her cheongsam as she shrank into a ball.
"You... why didn't you knock!"
"The door wasn't locked."
Son Goten walked over righteously, placing the Kunai on the stone table.
He uninhibitedly looked Tenten up and down, then rubbed his chin and began a serious critique.
"Leg shape full marks, straight enough and taut, definitely packs a punch when kicking."
Just as Tenten opened her mouth to hurl insults, Son Goten changed the subject.
"But this outfit won't do."
Son Goten shook his head, reaching out to point at the side of the cheongsam.
"The slit is too low."
Tenten froze, "Huh?"
"Those who practice Taijutsu value freedom of movement."
Son Goten spouted nonsense with a straight face.
"Your slit only reaches the middle of your thigh; if you execute a high leg split, the outfit is definitely going to burst open."
He stepped forward two paces, standing right in front of Tenten.
That distance exceeded normal social boundaries, allowing him to catch the faint scent of the young girl's perspiration.
"Besides, from an aesthetic standpoint, going up another three inches would perfectly showcase those top-tier beautiful legs of yours, Tenten."
Tenten was left completely dumbfounded by his words, lowering her head to look at her own skirt hem.
"R-Really?"
"Of course, I'm a professional."
Son Goten grinned broadly.
Only then did Tenten snap out of it, her face turning even redder.
"A professional my foot! You just wanted to look!"
She raised her hand to strike, but Son Goten gently caught her wrist.
"Don't move."
Son Goten reined in his smile, his gaze falling upon the top of Tenten's head.
Hairpins were inserted into Tenten's twin hair buns; due to her previous panic, the left one was slightly crooked, and a few strands of stray hair hung down.
Son Goten raised his hand, gently tucking the loose hair behind her ear before straightening the hairpin.
His fingertips inadvertently brushed past Tenten's burning earlobe.
Tenten's body tightened, her breathing skipping a beat.
She looked at this face close at hand.
Though he usually looked like an overgrown brat, when he was serious, those dark eyes made her skip a beat.
"There, it's straight."
Son Goten withdrew his hand, taking the opportunity to lean close to Tenten's ear and lower his voice.
"Next time I'll personally design a set for you."
The hot breath sprayed into her ear, tickling.
"Guaranteed to show off your figure even better than this, and also be much... more convenient."
Tenten felt as though her entire person was about to smoke.
She shoved Son Goten away, spun around, and dashed into the room.
"You... you wait! I'll get your ninja tools!"
Two minutes later.
Tenten ran out with a red face, shoving a bulging package into Son Goten's arms.
"Take it and go! Get lost already!"
Son Goten weighed the package in his hands.
Shuriken, Explosive Tags, Kunai, and even a few packs of Soldier Pills and dried meat.
Full weight, all good stuff.
"Thanks, Tenten."
Son Goten strapped the package to his back, walking away with a satisfied expression.
Reaching the doorway, he suddenly paused, turning around to wave.
Under the sunlight, the young man's smile was bright and exuberant.
"When I get back, remember to wear that high-slit outfit to welcome me!"
"Get lost!"
A shoe flew out from the courtyard, striking the door frame.
Son Goten ran off laughing heartily.
The gates of Konoha Village.
Naruto and Sakura were already waiting with large and small packs.
Sasuke stood with his hands in his pockets, leaning against the gatepost with a cold expression.
Kakashi watched Son Goten arrive empty-handed and raised an eyebrow.
"Where's your luggage?"
Son Goten patted his ninja tool pouch, then pointed at Naruto's huge backpack.
"The food is with Naruto, and I grabbed the supplies from Tenten, what else do I need to bring?"
"I'm going on a trip... ah no, I'm going to protect people, not moving houses."
Kakashi shook his head speechlessly.
"Fine, let's move out."
The group of five plus Tazuna, who was still burping from alcohol, walked out of the gates of Konoha.
The outside world was vast and expansive.
Son Goten walked at the very back of the procession, a strand of dogtail grass plucked from the roadside clenched between his teeth.
This mission seemed somewhat interesting.
He hoped to encounter a few people who could actually fight.
Otherwise, this long journey would lack any real entertainment aside from teasing Sakura.
Meanwhile.
On both sides of the road ahead, within a seemingly ordinary puddle of water.
Two cold pairs of eyes stared intently through the surface at this completely unprepared group.
Before you continue