[Starting in Naruto with a Daily Login System] Chapter 47 The Meaning of Life (According to an Overtired Jonin and a Five-Year-Old Philosopher)

The air was crisp—the kind of autumn chill that made you question why you ever left your house in the first place.

I had just wrapped up a mission that should have taken at least a month but, through sheer force of competence (and maybe a little bit of dumb luck), ended in a week. I was looking forward to a long, well-earned nap. Maybe some ramen if I was feeling ambitious.

Then I saw him.

A tiny figure sitting beneath a tree, staring at a handful of fallen leaves like they held the answers to the universe.

Itachi Uchiha.

Five years old, yet already carrying the air of a retired war veteran.

I sighed. I could walk away.

I did not walk away.

Instead, I sat down next to him with all the grace of a man who had already accepted his fate.

Itachi blinked at me, his tiny, serious face clearly not expecting company. "You are Kakashi-san?" 

Itachi and I met once, when I went to meet Fugaku, related to work. 

"Hey, kid," I greeted, leaning back against the tree. "What’s with the dramatic leaf-staring?"

He hesitated. "I was thinking about life."

Of course he was.

"Alright," I said, folding my arms. "Hit me."

Itachi looked down at the leaves in his hands. "The way they fall… it reminds me that all things are temporary."

"True," I said, nodding sagely. "But you know what else is temporary? My patience. So let's speed this up—where’s this train of thought going?"

Itachi frowned slightly, as if I had personally offended his philosophical process. "I’ve been thinking about purpose. Why we fight. Why we exist. What it all means."

I hummed. "Deep stuff for a kid. I like it."

"You think about these things too?"

"Sometimes." I shrugged. "Then I remind myself that no matter how much I think about the meaning of life, I still have to pay rent. Kind of puts things into perspective."

Itachi blinked. "You… pay rent?"

"Metaphorically speaking."

He looked like he wasn’t sure if I was being serious. Which was fair. Even I wasn’t sure half the time.

"Listen, Itachi," I said, stretching my legs out. "You can spend your whole life searching for meaning, but at the end of the day, sometimes it’s just about doing what you can with the time you have. Find something worth protecting. Something that makes you happy. And if all else fails…" I gestured vaguely. "Eat some ramen."

Itachi stared at me for a long moment.

"...That’s it?"

"Yep."

He frowned. "That doesn’t seem very profound."

"Life isn’t always profound. Sometimes it’s just about getting through the day without losing your mind."

He absorbed that, then looked back at his leaves. "Ramen, huh?"

"Ramen," I confirmed.

"...I’ll consider it."

"Good." I gave him a pat on the head before pushing myself up. "Don’t think too hard, kid. You’ll give yourself wrinkles."

He looked up at me, completely deadpan. "Is that what happened to you?"

I gasped, clutching my chest. "Betrayed. By a five-year-old."

Itachi almost smiled. Almost.

I walked away, leaving him with his thoughts. Maybe he’d still dwell on the meaning of life. Or maybe he’d just go get some ramen. Either way, I considered this a success.

For some reason, I kept running into Itachi over the next few days.

It wasn’t intentional. I wasn’t actively seeking him out. But every time I found a good spot to exist in peace, Itachi was already there—staring at leaves, contemplating life, and generally being the most introspective five-year-old I had ever met.

So, naturally, I sat down with him again.

"You again," I greeted, leaning back against the tree.

Itachi glanced at me. "You keep showing up."

"You keep brooding."

"I’m thinking."

"Thinking is just brooding with extra steps."

He didn’t argue, which meant I was right.

We sat in comfortable silence, watching the village go about its day. The gentle hum of life carried on around us—shinobi training, civilians chatting, the occasional yell from an angry shopkeeper.

After a while, I asked, "So, any progress on figuring out the meaning of life?"

Itachi was quiet for a long moment. "I don’t know yet."

"That’s fine," I said. "Most people never do."

Itachi frowned slightly. "But if there’s no meaning, why do we fight?"

I shrugged. "For the same reasons people do anything. To survive. To protect what’s important. To make sure we can wake up tomorrow and eat a good meal."

"That doesn’t sound very noble."

"Who said it had to be noble?" I pointed out. "Sometimes simple is better."

Itachi mulled over that, clearly not convinced.

That was fine. I wasn’t expecting to change his entire worldview overnight. I was just here for the company.

A few days later, I found Itachi sitting under the same tree.

This time, though, he looked different. There was a quiet sort of determination in his expression—like something had finally clicked into place.

Before I could say anything, he turned to me and said, "My brother was born."

I blinked. "You have a brother?"

He nodded. "Sasuke."

Huh. That was new information.

Itachi looked down at his tiny hands, clenching them slightly. "I will do everything to protect him."

There was something fierce in his voice—an unwavering certainty that didn’t belong in a five-year-old’s vocabulary.

I let out a long sigh. "Itachi, let me tell you something about little brothers."

He looked up at me expectantly.

"They’re annoying."

Itachi frowned. "He’s a baby."

"Give him time," I said wisely. "Soon, he’ll be running around, stealing your food, and demanding your attention every second of the day."

Itachi tilted his head, considering this. "...That doesn’t sound bad."

"That’s because you haven’t dealt with it yet." I shook my head. "Look, protecting someone is great and all, but don’t let it eat you alive. You’re still a kid. You should enjoy being one."

"I don’t think I know how," Itachi admitted.

I stared at him. "Okay. New mission."

His brow furrowed. "Mission?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "Your mission is to have fun."

Itachi looked at me like I had just suggested burning down the Hokage Tower. "That doesn’t sound like an actual mission."

"Trust me," I said, patting his head, "it’s the hardest one you’ll ever get."

He still looked skeptical, but at least he was thinking about it.

I stood up, stretching. "Alright, Itachi. I’m going to get some ramen. You coming or what?"

He hesitated. "I… don’t know."

"Come on," I said, already walking. "Gotta fuel up if you’re gonna protect your little brother, right?"

That got him.

A few moments later, he followed.

Maybe he didn’t have all the answers yet, but at least he was starting to ask the right questions.

—

The birth of Sasuke meant one very important thing.

Naruto was next.

I leaned against a rooftop, watching the village below as I mulled over the implications.

This was supposed to be a fixed point in history—the event that would set everything in motion. The Kyuubi attack. Minato’s death. The start of everything that led to the story I knew.

But here was the problem: Obito hadn’t gone dark.

And Obito going dark was the major catalyst.

He wasn’t training under Madara. He wasn’t leading the Akatsuki into a blood-soaked future. He wasn’t anywhere near the level of hatred and despair that would drive him to rip the Kyuubi out of Kushina and lay waste to Konoha.

So… did that mean the attack wouldn’t happen?

Would Minato and Kushina live? Would Naruto have an actual family? Would he grow up without the burden of being a jinchūriki?

Or—and this was the more unsettling thought—was someone else going to try?

Kushina was still an Uzumaki, still a perfect vessel for the Kyuubi, still the most valuable target in the village. Just because Obito wouldn’t be the one to pull the trigger didn’t mean someone else wouldn’t.

Danzo, maybe?

The man had always been power-hungry. If he found out about the birth, about how vulnerable Kushina would be in those crucial moments…

Or maybe someone from outside the village. The remnants of Iwa or Kumo, still holding grudges from the war.

There were too many possibilities. Too many unknowns.

I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled.

Minato-sensei was smart. He had to know the risks. He wouldn’t be unprepared.

…Right?

I frowned.

Yeah, I didn’t like that uncertainty.

Maybe it was time to start planning just in case.

—

A week passed. The village carried on as if nothing was wrong.

Which was exactly what worried me.

I wasn’t the kind of person to sit around and hope nothing went wrong. Hope was great for morale, but preparation? That was what actually kept people alive.

So, I started planning.

First step: information.

Minato-sensei was impossible to pin down for a conversation, which wasn’t surprising. He was Hokage, a soon-to-be father, and had the entire village depending on him. The man barely had time to breathe, much less chat with me about hypothetical assassination attempts.

Kushina was even harder to reach. She’d been keeping to herself lately, likely on Minato’s orders. The security around her was tight—ANBU guards rotating constantly, leaving me only a few hours to guard her, barriers around the estate, even some of the Uzumaki sealing techniques in play. It was solid protection.

And yet, it still wasn’t enough to settle my nerves.

Because I wouldn’t have thought it was enough.

If I were the enemy, I’d have already found holes in the security. There were always holes.

Which led to step two: contingencies.

I started running surveillance. Not on Kushina directly—because that would absolutely get me thrown in a cell—but on the village itself. Looking for anything out of place. Suspicious figures, new faces lingering too long, movements that didn’t fit.

At the same time, I made sure to casually check in with the ANBU detail assigned to her. Nothing obvious, just a few offhanded conversations, subtle questions slipped in.

And that’s when I found my first problem.

Some of the guards were way too relaxed.

Maybe they thought no one was dumb enough to try anything. Maybe they trusted Minato’s security measures too much. Maybe they were just stupid.

Didn’t matter. I didn’t trust it.

I needed a plan.

Which meant step three: backup.

And, unfortunately, my best option for backup was a five-year-old.

Tracking down Itachi was easy. The kid had a routine. I found him near the Naka River, skipping stones across the water with ridiculous accuracy.

"Captain," he greeted without looking up.

"I’m not your captain," I said, crouching next to him.

"You’re ANBU," he countered. "And you call the others by their codenames, which means you’re their superior. That makes you a captain."

I squinted at him. "You’re five."

Itachi finally turned to me, utterly unimpressed. "And?"

Fair.

I sighed, deciding to just move on. "I heard you have a new little brother."

His expression softened. "Sasuke," he said, almost like he was testing the name. "I will protect him."

I tilted my head. "From what?"

"Everything." His voice was quiet but firm. No hesitation. No doubt. Just a simple, absolute truth.

I studied him for a moment. He was serious. A five-year-old, already carrying the weight of the world on his tiny shoulders.

I couldn’t decide if I admired it or wanted to shake some sense into him.

"That’s a big responsibility," I said. "Think you can handle it?"

He met my gaze without flinching. "Yes."

Yeah. This kid was going to grow up dangerous.

Good.

I gave him a slow nod. "Alright, little brother protector. How do you feel about helping me keep the village safe?"

Itachi frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Just keep your eyes open," I said. "If you see anything strange, anything that doesn’t feel right, you tell me. Think you can do that?"

Itachi considered this for a moment, then gave a sharp nod. "Yes, Captain."

I sighed. "Still not your captain."

Itachi just stared at me.

I gave up.