[Starting in Naruto with a Daily Login System] Chapter 53 The Babysitting Chronicles I

If Danzo thought I was just going to sit around and let him maneuver his way into controlling Konoha’s future, then the old war hawk was even more senile than I gave him credit for.

I wasn’t just going to play his game.

I was going to break the board.

Danzo’s network was good. I’d give him that. Root operatives were ghosts—faceless, emotionless, and disturbingly obedient. He’d spent years cultivating his little army in the shadows, hiding behind Hiruzen’s leniency. And now? Now he thought he could make moves unchecked.

So, I made a few pranks of my own

Little things at first.

A few of his informants suddenly stopped reporting in. Key Root operatives found their missions disrupted, always just narrowly missing completion. Blackmail material went missing from his vaults—sealed scrolls, hidden dossiers, things that shouldn’t have even been possible to steal.

And because I’m me, I made sure Danzo knew exactly who was behind it.

A single note left on his desk, written in perfect, untraceable calligraphy:

Try me.

Would it stop him? No. But it would make him hesitate. And in this game, hesitation was fatal.

I barely had time to enjoy my sabotage before I got the inevitable summons.

The Hokage’s office smelled like ink, old paper, and disappointment—Hiruzen’s disappointment, to be precise. He sat behind his desk, hands folded, looking at me the way a father looks at a child who’s been caught setting fireworks off inside the house.

"Kakashi," he said, his voice carrying that I’m not mad, just deeply exhausted tone. "I assume you know why you’re here."

I slouched into the chair across from him. "If this is about the mission reports, I swear, the typos aren’t intentional."

Hiruzen sighed. "This is about Danzo."

Of course it was.

"You’ve been making… moves." He chose his words carefully, but his eyes were sharp. He knew what I’d been doing. "I can’t ignore it any longer."

I tilted my head, all innocent curiosity. "Moves? I’m not sure I follow."

"Kakashi."

Alright, fine. I gave him a lazy shrug. "If I was making moves, hypothetically, it would be in response to Danzo’s own... hypothetical moves. If I were to notice a certain someone quietly plotting against the village’s best interests, wouldn’t it be irresponsible not to hypothetically respond?"

Hiruzen pinched the bridge of his nose. "I need to keep the peace, Kakashi."

"Funny. So do I."

His gaze flickered, just for a moment, something unreadable in his expression. "Danzo is not someone you can simply remove from the equation. He’s part of Konoha’s foundation, whether we like it or not."

"Termites are part of a house’s foundation, too," I pointed out. "Doesn’t mean you let them stay."

Hiruzen exhaled through his nose, but I caught the ghost of amusement in his eyes.

"Don’t push too hard, Kakashi," he warned. "If you make Danzo feel cornered, he will retaliate."

I stood, stretching like I hadn’t just been warned not to poke the bear. "If he retaliates, then he’s not as smart as I thought."

Hiruzen sighed again, but he didn’t stop me as I turned to leave.

Danzo thought he could outmaneuver me.

He had no idea what he was up against.

Hiruzen’s warning wasn’t unexpected. The old man was too soft on Danzo, always had been. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was just habit. Either way, I wasn’t about to sit on my hands and hope the Hokage’s gentle approach would keep Danzo in check.

After the chat with Hokage-sama, Danzo went quiet. And by "quiet," I mean it was like the guy had vanished off the face of the earth. No more backdoor dealings, no cryptic messages, no operatives lurking in dark corners. Just—nothing.

And honestly? It was weird. Like, too weird. Danzo’s whole vibe is to stir the pot every five minutes, so when he goes all ghost-mode on me, something smells fishy. I’m not saying he’s plotting something, but if I were a betting man, I’d say he’s in full "I’ll get revenge when they least expect it" mode. Classic move.

But here’s the thing: I don’t have time to babysit an old man in a bandage mask who thinks he’s the puppet master. The old hawk’s silence was a temporary truce, not a victory. And while he’s licking his wounds in the shadows, I’ve got other things to handle. Like making sure Naruto doesn’t accidentally get kidnapped again or making sure the Uchiha don’t spontaneously combust.

So for the time being, I’m letting Danzo simmer in his own little stew. I mean, come on. The guy can’t go more than a few weeks without pulling some ridiculous stunt. Let him think he’s won for now, it’ll make the eventual showdown even more entertaining when it comes.

I’ve got my own priorities to juggle. Naruto’s a walking target with a giant bullseye on his back, and I’m not about to ignore that while I wait for Danzo to make his move. Yeah, sure, I could dive back into some elaborate scheme to take down Danzo in the meantime, but why bother? It’s like trying to catch a greased-up rat—it’s not worth the effort until the moment’s right.

So, for now, I’m going to let the old hawk chill in his creepy lair. Maybe he’ll hatch another master plan. Maybe he won’t. But whatever happens, I’ll be ready. Danzo’s a problem. But right now? I’ve got bigger problems, and I’m not about to play his game for the next twenty years.

When he decides to show up again—and trust me, he will—I’ll be waiting. And this time? It won’t be fun for him.

But until then? The village has got its own drama to deal with. I’ll be in the background, quietly observing, probably making sarcastic comments about it in my head. You know, the usual.

—

Some days are meant for relaxation. And then there's my life. Which, let's face it, has never really understood the concept of ‘rest.’

It was supposed to be a quiet afternoon. I had agreed to help Kushina with Naruto for a few hours while she ran errands. But of course, nothing was ever simple.

Naruto, still just a year old, was in full toddler mode. Which meant crawling around with the speed of a caffeinated squirrel, throwing things (mostly rocks and anything that could be classified as ‘dangerous’), and generally being a chaotic mess of limbs.

And then, just to spice things up, Mikoto showed up with baby Sasuke, who was also a year old and in full competition mode with Naruto. Sasuke wasn’t quite as rambunctious as his counterpart, but he sure as hell wasn’t shy about making his presence known. I had no idea how I ended up in this mess, but here I was: two toddlers, both trying to crawl up my legs at once, with the force of an impending hurricane.

“Hey, Kakashi, mind watching them for a minute?” Mikoto asked, her usual smile wide but tired. “I need to run a quick errand.”

I looked down at the two of them—Sasuke pulling at my mask like he was trying to rip it off, and Naruto attempting to bite my shoelaces.

“Sure,” I said, making my voice sound breezy. “No problem. This is exactly what I wanted to do with my afternoon.”

Mikoto gave me a grateful smile before walking off, leaving me to the chaos.

I was about to say something sarcastic about the whole situation when I caught sight of Itachi in the distance, walking toward us with that calm, serene air he always carried. The kid was six now, but he seemed like he was already seventeen, like he’d lived a hundred lifetimes.

He gave me a glance, and I waved him over.

“Hey, Itachi,” I greeted, leaning against a nearby tree as Naruto managed to get one of my kunai pouches open, spilling it all over the ground. "You got a minute?"

Itachi, ever the composed little adult in training, raised an eyebrow at the scene before him. "I thought you were supposed to be taking care of them, not letting them destroy your gear," he said dryly, though I could see a faint smirk tug at the corner of his mouth.

“I was trying,” I said, deadpan. “But apparently, I’m not as interesting as your mother’s errands. They’re clearly unimpressed by my complete lack of enthusiasm for child-wrangling.”

Itachi gave a soft chuckle before squatting down to help Sasuke with a toy that was, ironically, in the shape of a kunai. “Is this really what you spend your days doing?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

“Unfortunately, yes,” I said, hands on my hips, trying to keep both toddlers from pulling each other’s hair. “It’s my new life. Babysitter extraordinaire, coming to a village near you.”

“Right,” Itachi murmured, amused. “Do you ever think about... doing something different? I mean, you’ve been a shinobi for as long as I can remember. Don’t you ever wonder if there’s more to life than just… missions?”

There it was. That question. The one I’d been waiting for. The one I knew would come up sooner or later.

I rubbed the back of my neck, considering my answer. “Yeah, I’ve wondered,” I replied after a moment. “Sometimes I think I could retire and become a full-time, highly-skilled napper. But, well... it’s not like I’m cut out for a desk job. I’ve got responsibilities. And sometimes, it’s not about being happy or comfortable. It’s about doing what’s right, even when it sucks.”

Itachi watched me, processing my words carefully. For a six-year-old, he was frighteningly perceptive.

“But what if doing what’s right isn’t enough?” he asked, his voice unusually heavy for his age. “What if it only leads to more pain?”

I gave him a sidelong glance. “That’s a good question,” I said, keeping my voice neutral. “But sometimes, you have to keep moving forward, even if it feels like you’re walking through mud. You can’t just stay stuck. You’ve got to make choices. And those choices don’t always turn out how you want them to. But you learn from them.”

He seemed to mull over that, as the two babies started fighting over a block. I sighed dramatically as Naruto managed to shove Sasuke aside and snatch the toy.

“Ah, the joys of babysitting,” I muttered, trying to intervene before Sasuke let out an angry squeal. But of course, Naruto just laughed and stuck the block in his mouth, like it was a prize.

Itachi glanced at me, amused. “Is this your idea of ‘keeping them in line’?”

I gave him a blank look. “If by ‘keeping them in line’ you mean ‘surviving their attention span,’ then yes, this is my approach.”

Sasuke, still trying to reclaim the block, began to make some incoherent baby sounds—more like little growls than actual words. Meanwhile, Naruto was happily babbling at me in his own baby language, pulling at my mask again as if trying to reveal the secrets of the universe, or maybe just my face. Either way, I wasn’t in the mood for a mask reveal.

“Why do they insist on pulling on my mask?” I grumbled.

“Because they think it’s the key to everything,” Itachi said with a grin. “And you’re not helping by hiding it.”

“Not hiding it, just keeping some mystery alive,” I muttered, lifting Naruto off my lap before he started gnawing on my kunai pouch again. “Also, this is definitely not what I imagined when I signed up for this ‘babysitting’ gig.”

“It’s not so bad,” Itachi said, eyes twinkling with amusement. “You’ve got this. You’re basically a pro at handling chaos.”

I snorted. “Chaos is one thing. This is full-on pandemonium. I’m just hoping no one ends up with a concussion or worse by the end of this.”

As I spoke, Sasuke managed to grab the block back from Naruto, who immediately let out a loud, disapproving baby shriek.

“Kashi!” Naruto protested, but of course, it came out as more of a garbled baby sound that didn’t quite resemble words, just an impassioned grunt.

“Yeah, sorry, Naruto. I think Sasuke has better taste in toys than you,” I teased, watching Sasuke triumphantly wave the block around, pleased with his victory. Naruto, not to be outdone, reached for another toy to make sure the competition was still alive and well.

“Guess I’m not getting any peace for the rest of the afternoon,” I said, rubbing my forehead.

Itachi didn’t answer right away. He was too busy watching the two toddlers with a mix of interest and mild concern. Then, as though he’d been thinking about our conversation earlier, he spoke again.

“You know, Kakashi, sometimes I wonder if this is all just practice for something bigger.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Big plans for the future, Itachi?”

He looked at me seriously, his little hands folding over his lap, giving off an air of someone who’d lived a few more years than he had. “Maybe. But I think... sometimes you just need to take a break, like you said.”

I smiled faintly, ruffling his hair. “You’ll figure it out, kid. Just remember to not let it all weigh you down. Life’s not all about doing what you have to do—it’s about finding a balance.”

Itachi nodded thoughtfully, watching Sasuke now make some baby noises that could only be interpreted as a victory dance over the block. I could tell he was taking everything in, processing it all in that way only he could.

“Well,” I said, looking around at the absolute mess we had going on, “since I’ve successfully avoided any more diaper explosions, I think that’s enough babysitting for today.”

Itachi grinned, clearly entertained by my struggle. “You’re still more of a softie than you let on.”

I snorted. “Let’s just keep that between us, alright?”

As I handed Sasuke back to Mikoto, who had just walked in with that graceful air she always carried, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction. Mikoto smiled warmly at me as she took Sasuke from my arms, the little guy half-asleep, nestled against her chest.

“Thanks, Kakashi,” she said softly, her voice carrying that familiar motherly calm. “You really are a lifesaver sometimes. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Just doing my part,” I replied, fighting the urge to smile.

She gave me a knowing look, one that only a mother could give, as if she was seeing right through my gruff exterior. “You’re a good guy, Kakashi. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

I just shrugged, trying to dodge the compliment, and turned to Itachi, who was already heading for the door. "You better get going. The night won’t be the same without you brooding in the corner," I teased.

Itachi paused, then turned back, his usual stoic expression breaking into the smallest of smiles. “Take care of him,” he said, nodding toward Naruto, who was now bouncing on his little feet, clearly more interested in running off than staying put.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll try not to let him break anything," I muttered, but Itachi was already walking away, his quiet steps disappearing into the distance.

As I turned back to the task at hand, I noticed Mikoto was preparing to leave. She gave me one last glance. “Just Naruto left, huh?”

“Yep. Just me and the little whirlwind,” I said, trying to hide my tired smile as I ruffled Naruto’s messy hair.

Mikoto chuckled, adjusting Sasuke in her arms. “Good luck. I’m sure he’ll be the easiest one to handle.”

“Oh, sure. Easy,” I muttered under my breath as Mikoto waved and walked off.

Now, it was just me and Naruto. The kid looked at me like he was deciding whether to trust me with his life—or maybe just his snack.

“So, what’s it gonna be, kid?” I said, dropping down to one knee to his level. “You want to nap, or do I need to entertain you with something ridiculous?”

Naruto flashed a grin that could only mean one thing: chaos was about to ensue.