Chapter 7: Schemes and Shadows
The silence of the underground base had grown restless.
Hajime paced the stone floor, bare feet brushing faint chalk markings drawn days ago, now smudged by heel and toe. A candle flickered weakly beside a half-eaten bowl of rice, casting long shadows over the crumpled scrolls, ink-stained notes, and chakra-etched diagrams littered across the central work table.
His mind spun faster than his body moved.
He'd mapped every coastal route. He'd drawn crude recreations of the Land of Waves, its ports, fishing towns, and shipping lines. He'd drafted at least three versions of a fake identity, merchant's apprentice, wandering orphan, foreign scholar. None of them satisfied him.
He paused by the far wall where his largest parchment hung, his "Outside Plan," as he called it.
A simple goal: Reach Konoha. Find a way in. Learn.
There was no mistaking it anymore. If he wanted advanced chakra knowledge,mmedical ninjutsu, sealing arts, battle tactics, forbidden techniques, Konoha was the only realistic source. The Land of Waves had given him what it could. Books from traders and scrolls from drifting mercenaries had their limits.
But every time he stared at the plan, his thoughts recoiled.
They'll sense my chakra.
He had refined it. Strengthened it. Compressed it through years of training. A sharp sensor-type ninja would pick him out in seconds if he stepped foot past Konoha's gates without proper identification.
No name. No clan. No papers. Just a 15-year-old boy with jutsu and a sharpened mind.
What would they think?
Spy. Rogue. Threat.
Even if he approached honestly, with empty hands and bowed head, they might see him as an enemy. They didn't know what he was. Even he didn't know exactly what he was anymore.
He clenched his jaw and turned away.
"Stupid," he muttered. "Stop wasting time."
He was thinking too far ahead. Reaching for a future built on too many ifs. And while he toyed with fantasies of textbooks and scroll archives, a very real threat had already begun rooting itself into his home.
Gato.
He sat heavily at the bench, eyes fixed on a rolled scroll near the edge of the desk. He reached for it and opened it slowly.
A sketched profile. Not detailed, but close enough.
Gato – CEO of Gato Shipping Company. Merchant lord. Billionaire. Criminal.
In his former life, Gato had only been a minor villain in an early arc. But here, in reality, he was something else entirely, sharp, calculating, hidden behind money and mercenaries. The kind of man who could bleed a village without raising a sword.
Hajime knew how it went.
Buy the docks. Bribe the magistrates. Outprice the competitors. Silence the loud ones. Kill the brave ones.
He also remembered the anime's timeline.
Gato only ruled for a few months, three to six, perhaps, before Naruto's team had arrived with Tazuna, the bridge builder. Before the death fog rolled in. Before Zabuza and Haku stood on blood-slick planks in the mist.
That hadn't happened yet.
Which meant the bridge wasn't finished. Maybe it hadn't even begun.
That meant Gato was just getting started.
Hajime exhaled sharply. His next thought chilled him.
Should I kill him?
It made sense. If he died now, the plan would crumble before it began. The mercenaries would scatter. The ports would remain free.
He ran his fingers down the side of his leg, feeling the hard lines of his thigh beneath the training gear. He had jutsu now. The Foot-Grip Bind. The Earthen Blade Slip. Even the Rasengan.
He could kill a man. He had the power.
But then the next thought followed, creeping up from the dark corner of logic:
What if Zabuza's already here?
His stomach tightened.
Zabuza Momochi. The Demon of the Hidden Mist. Elite jōnin. Master of silent killing. A blade the size of a man. Enough chakra to slaughter squads. Merciless.
And Haku. Ice Release. Speed. Precision. Dedication.
Even if Hajime ambushed Gato, even if he planned everything perfectly—
One wrong move, and I'd die.
He looked down at his hands. Calloused, trained, and still shaking.
"I've never fought a real battle."
The words tasted bitter. He had techniques, theories, traps. But he'd never felt the terror of killing intent, never stood against a true killer. He had no teammates. No field commander. No medical backup.
Just knowledge. And control. And caution.
He bowed his head, closed his eyes, and let the swirling thoughts quiet.
Assassination is off the table. Not until I'm stronger. Not unless I'm sure Zabuza isn't here.
He opened his eyes and reached for a new scroll. This one blank.
With slow, steady strokes, he began writing a new plan.
....
Recon Strategy: Gato
Monitor the coastal ports. Note changes in personnel, especially imported guards or foreign merchants.
Intercept supply manifests. Track which companies are unloading where, and whether they're Gato-affiliated.
Question local traders, carefully. Rumors spread fast, and people talk more when they think you're just the village scribe.
Watch for mercenaries. Strange accents, large men with poorly hidden weapons, groups arriving by sea.
Search for Zabuza's presence. No action. Only confirmation. If he's not here yet, time remains.
....
He rolled the scroll and tucked it into his travel pouch. No more guessing. No more debating fantasy futures. Just work. Just information.
Konoha could wait.
For now, Gato's shadow loomed, and Hajime would remain beneath it, watching from the dark.
Because when the storm finally broke…
He intended to be ready.
But Hajime don't know, plans can't keep up with the changes, he will son experience it.