[Starting in Naruto with a Daily Login System] Chapter 28 Slice of Life and Ramen

Another day, another mission.

For once, it wasn’t weeding. That alone made it a good day.

“Alright, Team Minato,” Sensei said, smiling as he held up our mission scroll. “Today’s assignment is an escort mission.”

“Finally! Something that doesn’t involve dirt and bugs,” Obito cheered.

I hummed in agreement. “As long as we’re not babysitting some rich merchant’s spoiled kid, I’m fine with whatever.”

Rin smiled. “It says here we’re escorting a famous chef to the next village.”

“A chef?” I perked up. “Do we get free food?”

Minato-sensei gave me a knowing look. “You’ll have to ask him yourself.”

The mission seemed simple enough. The chef, an elderly man named Sato, needed protection from potential bandits on the road. Apparently, his legendary miso ramen recipe was in high demand, and some unsavory types wanted to steal it.

“Wait,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Are we seriously protecting ramen?”

“More importantly,” Obito huffed, “who tries to steal food?!”

Rin giggled. “Well, if the recipe is really that good…”

I crossed my arms. “If anyone tries to rob us, I’m keeping the recipe.”

Minato-sensei sighed. “Kakashi, we’re not stealing from our client.”

“Not stealing,” I corrected. “Confiscating. For security reasons.”

Obito groaned. “Sensei, Kakashi’s being evil again.”

Sensei just patted my shoulder like he was disappointed in my life choices. I ignored the guilt. This was for a higher cause.

—

The mission was uneventful. A few shady guys followed us, but the moment they saw we were ninja, they decided ramen wasn’t worth dying for. Cowards.

The real challenge came when we reached the village.

Sato, in gratitude for our protection, offered us a free meal at his restaurant.

I was already preparing myself for a religious experience. The legendary miso ramen. The stuff of myths.

Then it happened.

One bowl.

Three of us.

And only one person could have it.

Obito slammed his hands on the table. “Alright. We settle this like men.”

I nodded. “Agreed.”

Rin sighed. “This is stupid.”

“Rin, this is honor,” I corrected.

Minato-sensei just sat back, sipping his tea. He wasn’t getting involved.

And so, the true battle began.

Rock-paper-scissors.

—

Twenty rounds.

Rin had been eliminated early. Minato-sensei refused to play.

It was just me and Obito, locked in an endless cycle of ties and betrayals.

I squinted. “You’re copying me.”

“No, you’re copying me!”

Sato watched in amusement. “You two have the same soul. A rivalry like this is worthy of legend.”

“I just want ramen!” Obito wailed.

The final round.

A hush fell over the room.

Sweat dripped down Obito’s forehead.

I activated Seamless Sublimity.

Victory was inevitable.

I threw paper.

Obito threw rock.

I grinned. “Itadakimasu.”

“Noooooo—”

The ramen was perfect.

Sato’s legend was well earned.

Obito sulked the entire way home.

—

It started with a simple errand.

“Team Minato, today’s mission is to deliver a package to a bakery in the shopping district,” Sensei announced.

Obito blinked. “We’re delivering bread?”

“No, we’re delivering supplies to the bakery,” Rin corrected.

I shrugged. “As long as we get paid.”

We made our way through Konoha’s bustling streets, package in hand. The scent of freshly baked goods filled the air, a cruel and taunting distraction.

Then, we arrived.

A small, cozy shop named Sweet Serenity Bakery.

We stepped inside, and that’s when it happened.

A single pastry.

Golden. Fluffy. Glazed to perfection.

It sat on the counter, untouched. Alone. Waiting.

“Excuse me,” Obito whispered, staring at it like it was a divine relic. “What is that?”

The baker, an elderly woman with a warm smile, chuckled. “That, young man, is our special honey pastry. The last one of the day.”

Rin and I exchanged a look.

Obito wasn’t the only one interested.

Sensei sighed. “No.”

“Sensei,” I said calmly. “With all due respect, I have never needed anything more than I need that pastry right now.”

Obito slammed his fist against the counter. “I will fight for it.”

The baker’s eyes twinkled. “Well, we do have a house rule: if two people want the last pastry, they must settle it the traditional way.”

“What way?” Rin asked.

The baker smirked. “A contest of skill.”

Minato-sensei groaned. “I should’ve stayed home.”

—

Outside the shop, the Pastry Battle began.

Three challenges. Winner gets the last honey pastry.

Challenge One: The Steadfast Balance.

We had to balance a tray of teacups on one hand while walking across a narrow wooden beam.

Obito wobbled immediately. “I got this—I got this—I GOT—”

Crash.

Obito: Eliminated.

I walked across effortlessly. Seamless Sublimity.

Rin clapped. “Go, Kakashi!”

Obito sat on the ground, defeated. “I don’t even like tea.”

—

Challenge Two: The Art of the Chopsticks.

Whoever could pick up the most beans with chopsticks in one minute would move on.

Rin was a machine. Chopsticks were a natural extension of her hands.

Obito… stabbed the beans. “Why are they so slippery?! This is rigged!”

I took my time, calmly transferring bean after bean.

When the time was up, Rin and I were tied.

Obito, holding two beans, looked like his soul had left his body.

—

Final Challenge: The Duel of the Ladles.

An honorable duel… using oversized soup ladles.

First to get smacked loses.

I faced off against Rin, both of us wielding our ladles with precision.

We circled each other.

A breeze passed through the street.

A single leaf floated between us.

Then we moved.

Rin swung first—fast, precise. I barely dodged, countering with a swift tap to her shoulder.

She spun away, resetting her stance. “You’re fast.”

“You’re not bad yourself.”

She smiled. Then vanished.

Rin was suddenly behind me, ladle swinging.

Seamless Sublimity.

I ducked, twisted, and—boop.

My ladle tapped her forehead.

She froze.

Then sighed. “You win.”

—

Back at the bakery, the victorious pastry sat before me.

Warm. Glorious. Mine.

Obito and Rin watched as I took my first bite.

“Good?” Rin asked.

I chewed, savoring the honeyed perfection.

Then, in an act of mercy, I split it three ways.

Obito gasped. “Brother.”

Minato-sensei wiped a fake tear. “My students are growing up.”

The honey pastry was gone in seconds.

Some fights… were worth it.

—

“Team Minato, your next mission—”

Oh no.

“—is a babysitting assignment.”

Oh hell no.

Minato-sensei gave us his usual cheerful smile as he handed over the mission scroll. “You’ll be watching over three children while their parents are away for the day.”

I immediately turned to leave. “Nope.”

Sensei grabbed the back of my flak jacket before I could escape. “Yes.”

Obito groaned. “Why do we have to do this?”

Rin, of course, was the only one who looked unbothered. “It’ll be fine! How hard can it be?”

Famous last words.

—

The kids were monsters.

Not in the ‘cute and slightly chaotic’ way.

In the ‘actual demons disguised as children’ way.

Kid #1: Taro, age 5. Chaotic Evil. Talks in riddles. Too smart for his own good.

Kid #2: Miko, age 4. Absolute menace. Her only joy in life is destruction.

Kid #3: Kenji, age 3. Small. Fast. Silent. Dangerous.

The moment their parents left, the war began.

—

Hour One: We Lost the Toddler.

Kenji vanished.

I checked the windows, the ceiling, under the floorboards. Nothing.

“We lost a child,” Obito whispered, horrified. “This is it. We’re going to jail.”

“I AM NOT GOING TO PRISON OVER A TODDLER,” I snapped.

Then we heard it.

A faint giggle.

I turned my head.

There.

On top of the bookshelf.

Kenji had somehow scaled the furniture and was now sitting ten feet in the air, eating a rice cracker like he had ascended to godhood.

“…How did he get up there?” Rin whispered.

Kenji grinned. Then jumped.

I barely caught him before he hit the ground.

This child was not normal.

—

Hour Two: Miko Discovered Fire.

“NO, NO, NO—FIRE IS BAD!” I shouted, grabbing the matches out of Miko’s tiny hands.

She hissed at me. Like a feral cat.

“WHERE DID SHE EVEN GET MATCHES?!” Obito yelled, panicking.

“Dunno, but I don’t like it,” I muttered.

Miko smirked. That was not a child’s smirk.

She had more matches.

WHERE WAS SHE GETTING THEM?!

—

Hour Three: Taro Broke Obito’s Mind.

“You know, Mister Ninja, existence is fleeting,” Taro said, sipping tea like a tiny philosopher.

Obito blinked. “What?”

Taro continued, completely deadpan. “One day, everything will be dust. Even you. Even me.”

Obito paled. “H-Hey, buddy, maybe we should talk about… I don’t know, kid stuff?”

Taro stared at him. “What is a ‘kid’ but a smaller, weaker adult with no power over their own fate?”

Obito looked like he was about to have an existential crisis.

—

Hour Four: The Final Stand.

We barricaded ourselves in the kitchen.

The kids were outside. Waiting. Plotting.

“They’re not normal,” I muttered.

“We’re gonna die,” Obito whispered.

Rin sighed. “You’re both being dramatic.”

I grabbed her shoulders. “Rin. We are ninja. We have faced actual enemy shinobi. And yet, we are losing to three children.”

Rin hesitated. Then nodded. “...Okay, fair.”

Minato-sensei arrived an hour later.

He took one look at our battle-worn faces, then at the perfectly innocent-looking children.

“…Did you guys have fun?” he asked.

The kids smiled angelically.

I knew the truth.

—

As we walked home, Obito was still muttering about the meaning of life. Rin was exhausted. I was questioning my choices.

And Minato-sensei?

He just laughed.

“You know,” he said. “I heard there’s another babysitting mission next week.”

I ran.