Naruto: The Book Eating Daimyo 1 - Born With A Silver Spoon

SYNOPSIS - 

When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.

Sadly, Leo never got to drink any.

Six years working for the cartel in New Mexico—bookkeeping, laundering money, shell companies, front businesses, fake invoices, bribes. Every kind of dirty job, he did it. But it beat his last job—and paid enough to cover his four daily insulin shots.

He wasn’t alone in the chaos. That chemistry professor, that slick lawyer—they were all cogs in the same bloody machine. And Leo? He liked it. The money was good.

Until the barrel of a gun kissed his head.

"New boss, new rules."

He didn't go down without a fight. But he did go down. And strangely, he felt no regret. Better that than getting dragged off by the Feds.

It felt like the end… until it didn’t. He waited for death, but it didn't come.

One blink and he woke up again. Surrounded by giants… or rather, he was the tiny one. 

I'm a baby? What? 

"ああ、見てごらん、私たちの息子よ。一休… 一休円 と名付けよう"

What the… heck? Japanese? 

NOTE: Story starts 14 years before Naruto's birth. During the 2nd Shinobi War.

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Story Tags - Action, Money Management, Loansharking, Overpowered, Manipulation, Grey MC, Sort of Extortion, War Mongering, Comedy, Sort of Kingdom Building, Smut.

Smut Tags - Passionate Sex, Rough Sex, Virginity Lost, Anal, Milfs, Breeding, Breastfeeding, Multisomes, Manipulation, Enemies to Sex Buddies, Risky Sex, and more.

Doc Link - https://docs.google.com/document/d/1V3r9c3c6_8AWsXgOpnhZRIJMfxznYvHZOdAAHWJSEzg/edit?usp=sharing

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Chapter 1: Born With A Silver Spoon

A/N: Treat this chapter as a prologue, guys. I couldn't skip character building since the MC is a newborn. Doing a time-skip this early felt weird. Couldn't add any smut elements in this one.

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“Goddammit, Walter! You really thought taking him out would fix this? It’s always you screwing things up! The cartel doesn’t stop—it just grows another head. There’s always someone next in line. Shit!”

Leo, not his real name, scrambled to get his business in order. He had to run, maybe leave the continent. The cook, the chemistry professor had fucked things up by killing his boss. 

“Gus needed us, man. We were valuable to him—that’s why we’re still breathing. But now? Now it’s gonna be those psychos from across the border. They don’t need us. They’ll shoot first and figure it out later." Leo threw everything he had in his office into the big cardboard box. 

Finally, he looked at his cabinet, the precious book cabinet that surprisingly didn't have accounting books. It had his treasured limited edition Naruto manga collection. It was in Japanese, and yes, he was the weebest of the weebs who learned the language. 

He shoved the mangas into the box and quickly started finishing up his quick packing. 

"Leo, listen to me. I can take his place. My product—it’s still the best out there. There's plenty of it. If we move fast, we can clear the field. Make this ours. With you on the money side, we won't have problems."

“Fuck that,” Leo snapped, almost instinctively. “You’re just the cook, man. No muscle, no firepower. All you got is that unstable fucking twink who can't decide if he should sell the produce or snort it—Fuck, we’re screwed, Walter. Seriously. Just cash out. I made sure your businesses are clean—sell ’em, disappear. I’m done. Gonna vanish somewhere quiet. France, maybe Japan. I don’t care anymore.”

With that, Leo rushed out and jumped into his car. He could feel something was headed his way, something ominous. He had made preparations long ago, knowing shit would hit the fan someday. 

He reached his home and grabbed the bundles of cash he was allowed to take. He'd booked a private plane and everything for himself. All the money was clean and sitting in his foreign bank account. All he had to do was get out. 

Sadly, that was the hard part. 

That night, just as he locked his house and walked towards his car, sitting there with all his stuff already packed in the trunk and backseat, he heard heavy footsteps behind him. 

He spun around to see, and sure enough, it was a guy he recognized. Tall, rough-looking, his gun aimed right at Leo's chest. 

"Come on, man, I did your taxes last month."

The man shrugged, eyes cold. "New boss, new rules."

"I wouldn't be so sure." Leo grinned back instead and looked down. His left arm inside the sleeves was a fake, the real one was under his open jacket, holding a gun, now aimed at the man's dick. "Fuck you."

BANG!

Leo shot, obliterating the killer's baby maker like a butchered rat. He didn't kill the man; he didn't want to earn more heat. He left him bleeding on the driveway and jumped into his car. 

But that was short-lived. Not far from his home, two trucks started to follow him. No bullets came his way, but they came close to ramming into him. Seeing their intention, he tried to speed up. But he was an accountant, not a race car driver. 

Half an hour from the airport, one of those trucks finally rammed into the back of his car, hard enough to send him skidding sideways off the road. 

BAM!

His car slammed sideways into a light pole. The car was busted, bent in the middle. The engine was dead, and the airbags were deployed. Leo was in pain, coughing as the cabin filled with smoke. 

He pushed the door open and crawled out. But by then, two trucks had come screeching to a halt in front of him, and one man came out with a gun. 

Unable to get up or run, he just stayed on the asphalt and looked up. He knew this man, too, a partner in crime until not long ago. 

“Haha…” Leo let out a shaky laugh, eyes darting. “Killing me? That’s your big plan? Yeah, good luck with that. Your new boss can eat shit.”

Bang!

The bullet pierced his head, shattered his brain inside, and killed him in an instant. He had no regrets; he was prepared for this, too. At least it wasn't the feds, taxman, or narc. His work was air-tight, never caught. 

Soon, the lights of emergency vehicles approached, flickering. Police, ambulance, and the fire department. At first, considered an accident by passersby, the police saw the bullet hole in the head right away. 

The medics turned his body over to roll him into the body bag, and to their surprise, they found a wicked smile on his lips. They checked his pockets and found his driving license, the real one—Benjamin Ryder, late twenties.

It being New Mexico, police considered it one of the usual cartel or drug-related crimes. Or just some personal revenge. Leo was so good that he wasn't even on the radar of law enforcement. A perfect law-abiding citizen who even provided free tax services to the elderly and veterans. 

That was until a week later, when four thick packages reached the offices of four agencies, sent by a very slimy lawyer who was also packing his bags to run away. 

FBI, IRS, DEA, and Secret Service—Four packages containing almost identical information. And it was one fuckton of a fuck you from Leo. While Leo only worked for one man, he was in contact with most of the South American cartels at some point. He knew about the deals, the secret pathways money was flowing and being laundered. He knew the names of accountants just like himself. He knew the location of secret stashes and even secret labs. The secret routes used to cross the border. Names, addresses, phone numbers, photos, and even the rats in the agencies whom he bribed consistently. 

And the last package was sent to a news agency, containing his personal documents, his health record, and his statement on why he did it. Although he knew what he did was fucked up, he'd seen literal deadbodies being buried right in front of him. But at the same time, he wouldn't have done it if he weren't so desperate for his medical needs. 

He'd sent his entire story to the news channel. It wouldn't absolve his crimes, but it sure would make him seem more badass and legendary. 

And it did. 

For the next five years, law enforcement had enough to work on. Thanks to Leo, the cartels' yearly revenue fell from fifty billion to just fourteen billion. It was a big win, but it only lasted seven years.

A few years later, a TV show and a movie were made about his story. It was called Leo, and it was a massive global hit.

Not that he ever got the chance to find that out. 

Leo was dead… or was he?

####

"Ghk… Ghk…"

Fuck! I'm choking! 

"Ghak… Ughk…"

Suddenly, he felt a hard pat on his back. He coughed, and whatever was stuck in his throat, that slimy, gooey texture, jetted out of his mouth. 

"Aaaargh!" He cried. 

Pat!

What the fuck?!

He felt a hard slap on his ass then. And then, his entire body was moved like he weighed nothing. He felt naked, air brushing against his wet skin. And in moments, he was presented with two towering figures, so huge they eclipsed his body. 

G-G-Gulliver's Travels? Giants?

"ああ、見てごらん、私たちの息子よ。一休… 一休円 と名付けよう。"

What the… heck? Japanese? 

"Whaa…"

To his shock, when he tried to speak, only air and weird noises came out. But knowing Japanese, he recognized what they said. They just named him—Ikkyu Madoka. 

He tried to flail his arms but couldn't, too tightly wrapped in some sort of warm cloth. With nothing to do, he just watched the blurry colors. But he could make out the shapes, giant humans for sure. It was a woman, big-bodied, with clearly brown hair. And then there was the man, tall, clothed, the rest was hard to make out.

"Come here, my baby."

He saw the woman grab him and lower him to her chest. Next thing he knew, he found a nipple shoved into his mouth. Instincts worked, and he nursed on it. 

I'm a baby? A Japanese baby? Holy shit, the Buddhists had it right!

####

Mr. Poopy Butthole, that was the name he gave himself over the following months. He had no control over his body, his bladder or his ass. He pooped whenever it happened, he peed whenever it happened. His arms and legs were noodles. His voice box was broken like a stringless guitar. 

Unga, bunga, unga was the language of his choice. 

He rarely saw his parents. People whom he reckoned were servants cared for him. From feeding to cleaning him. And for some ungodly reason, there were too many cats around him. Thankfully, they liked him and usually just snuggled with him while sleeping. 

As days went by, and his body developed the energy to stay awake for hours, he tried to learn about his surroundings. Seeing the way the people around him dressed, he believed he was either in ancient Japan or in a modern family that was too traditional, to the point that it was cosplaying. He hoped for the latter, as that sort of family was likely rich as fuck. 

But then, something strange happened. At nine months, he started walking. He stumbled a lot, but unlike real babies, he had a clear purpose and a thought process. A desire to try and look outside that shitty room he'd been confined to. 

That lasted for a week. Suddenly, in the second week of his ninth month of living, he felt a loss of energy. It was abrupt, acute, and it just kept getting worse. He found it hard to stay awake. He'd learned to hold his pee a little and warn them with mumbling. He lost that ability as well. 

He peed nonstop, tens of times daily. By the tenth month, he couldn't even turn his head. He felt insanely hungry. He felt annoyed at all times. His vision blurred like the day he was born. 

No! Not again! Fuck, fuck this shit!

He knew those symptoms all too well. Type 1 diabetes. He had it for his entire one life till the day he died. And not knowing which era he was in, he felt immensely fucked. 

####

A few days went by, and things got worse. His eyes went shut, his little body limp. He felt no sensations, no smell, no touch. With half consciousness, he was stuck in that dark limbo. 

I guess it was the first option. Ancient Japan, ha? Fuck… what's the point of reincarnation then?

He reminisced about his first life since he didn't have many memories of this new one. He reminisced about his family, mostly dead for one reason or another. He just had one uncle living a few states away, a doctor from what he'd heard. 

Working for the cartel also fucked his worldview a lot. He was desensitized to violence and gore. After all, seeing a man's guts slit open, intestines and shit spilling out, was enough for one lifetime. 

Should've gone for the insurance guys. 

Insurance refusing him was the first reason why he took the wrong path anyway. He got fucked over for a tiny paperwork mistake. Left to die with no support. He felt the entire system had given him the middle finger. Telling him to fuck off and die if he can't live, but oh, do pay taxes if you live. 

He wondered if his work for the cartel was out of need or anger. He had plenty of chances to stop and leave that life. But he never did that. 

God knows how many guys I killed indirectly. 

Even in that situation, he couldn't bring himself to sympathize with the people he likely ruined. Nobody gave a fuck about him, why should he care about others. That attitude pretty much shaped the last half of his life. 

What's after this? Ancient China? Alien world? 

Slowly, the energy to even keep his mind running felt lost. Just a brain-dead living corpse. Time passed; it likely did. 

Hmm?

His brain fired up again. 

What's going on?

He felt a change. Energy returning to him. Something, somehow, was flowing into his chest. Warmth, gentleness and nurturing, killing what was killing him. It reignited his dying body, and slowly the senses returned. He felt touched at first, warm, like a blanket, a hand actually, fingers spread. One palm pressed on his chest, and the other on his back. As a baby, he was tiny. 

Then came the sense of scent. It felt like fresh vanilla for some reason. Combined with that warm sensation following through his body, it felt great. Like he was sitting in one of those natural hot spring baths. 

“I’ll need more time to figure out a permanent cure, Lord Daimyo. I’ve never seen anything like it. His own immune system is attacking what’s keeping him alive.”

Right then came back the sense of hearing, and he heard that female voice, confident, warm, filled with concern towards him. 

Finally, he started opening his eyes. His head looked down quickly towards his belly. It was a feminine hand on his little naked chest. He was sitting upright with another hand on his back. So, he followed that arm and looked towards the person. 

"Welcome back."

He blinked silently, staring at her, her flawless skin, amber eyes, and her golden hair parted in the middle, tied behind in a single high ponytail. Her lips were soft and smiling kindly, her heart-shaped face knocked the senses out of him. 

Perhaps it was his bias towards the woman who likely saved him from death. He felt like she was the most beautiful woman he'd seen in his two lives. Gorgeous in every sense, wearing that weird green flak jacket, midnight-blue shirt underneath, and that strange headband with a spiral and pointy end mark.

Wait, headband?

"Save him, Lady Tsunade! Please!" 

Tsunade?

He listened to his big-bodied mother and looked back at the ethereal woman healing him. He stared at her face again, and completely lost it, as if all the background just vanished into bright light. There was just her face, looking back at him with a big, kind smile. Though his eyes were glued to her headband. 

T-This can't be… Wait a second… Hold up… Tsunade? The Tsunade?

"I’ll do everything I can, Madam Shijimi," Tsunade said gently, eyes still on the boy’s curious blue ones. "Ikkyu’s body is strong. He doesn’t have enough chakra to be a shinobi, but it’s more than enough to live strong. I’ll leave behind a chakra flow technique—one of your shinobi bodyguards must use it every three months. But I’ll keep looking for a permanent cure."

"Thank you for this aid, Lady Tsunade. Without you, my son would have died." Said the man in elaborate attire with a strange headgear. 

Tsunade shook her head, showing deep respect to the man. "No… we should be the ones thanking you, Lord Daimyo. We… After last week’s fight with Hanzo, your faith in Konoha is what’s holding us together. We’re the ones who should be grateful."

Hanzo? Konoha? Daimyo? Holy… I'm the Daimyo's son? 

With great effort, he looked around the room with intent. Far in the back against the wall, he found two men sitting. One had bushy, long white hair and red streak marks over his eyes, and the other looked slimy with an insanely pale skin, dark hair, and purple eye makeup. 

Fuck… He felt his gaze meet the dark-haired one. Gave me the creeps… That must be Orochimaru then? 

Once again, he looked back at Tsunade, still as mesmerized as ever by her. She was every bit the beauty he'd imagined. He wondered what year he was in, her mentioning Hanzo, looking so young, in that jonin uniform, with Orochimaru nearby, it had to be the Second Shinobi War. 

Same birth year as… Obito and Kakashi? 

"Naturally, Lady Tsunade," the Daimyo replied. "The fate of Konoha and the Land of Fire are linked. When the enemies enter our lands, they wreak havoc on all, not just on one village."

He looked towards his father with amusement. That response didn't sound very polite. He was used to listening to such underhanded remarks. While the words only spoke of kindness, the hidden meaning was to warn them.

Tsunade nodded and focused back on healing. She continued doing that magical thing with her palms and eventually retracted them. "Lord Ikkyu's stable now. Let him rest before doing anything else. I’m going to my room to write out the technique I used."

Poke!

She poked his chubby face. But when she found his equally chubby hand grabbing her finger, she giggled. Unaware of what was going on in his mind. 

It was innocent, with no vile thought. In that body, he was incapable of feeling those things yet. But he knew what his heart and mind wanted. 

Man, I gotta grow up fast. 

####

Ikkyu—Not the badass name he was hoping for, but it slowly grew on him. After all, when you're next in line to become the Fire Daimyo, a name doesn't matter that much. 

Life was a breeze after Tsunade healed him. It took him a week to fully come to terms with his new reality. And then it took another week to come up with a plan. Knowing how insignificant the Daimyo was in the grand scheme of things, he didn't want to inherit that. He wanted personal power. 

Sadly, having no chakra to be a shinobi, his paths were limited. So, while resting in his crib, he planned things. He used his experience to forge a plan. While narcotics smuggling was likely not a big thing there, he reckoned weapon smuggling must be a big deal. If he could tap into that market, he could get filthy rich and influential. Also, money lending with predatory contracts and slowly building wealth through seized property. Opening legal businesses to mask the illegal ones. He had so many ways to do things. 

Still, he was just a one-year-old boy. He was content in slowly learning about his new world and living in absolute comfort. He had servants round the clock and bodyguards protecting him. He was intelligent, the signs were there when he started trying to speak. Sadly, he still had somewhat of an accent. Downsides of being a reincarnator with memories. 

By the age of one and a half, he was running around, stumbling often, but running nonetheless. His hair had grown a shade of blue-ish grey, his face aiming to be handsome. His laughter filled the Fire Daimyo's massive palace. He explored the hell out of that entire establishment. He invaded his father's court sessions at times. 

Most often, there were people from villages and towns coming to beg for help with crops, rogue ninjas, or natural disasters. In response, the Fire Daimyo's people would evaluate the problem and order the administration. If the situation was too dangerous, an official mission commission was sent to Konoha. 

It was a really complex system, and Ikkyu found it fun. What he did hate was how Konoha was the only large city in the entire Land of Fire, which he reckoned was at least the size of France. Sure, there were port towns and villages, but none came close to Konoha. 

So, he made a mental note to use his dirty money on building a city around the Fire Daimyo's temple. The official capital of the Land of Fire. Mainly for the non-shinobi population. 

As days went by, and he received the chakra treatment every three months, he started to feel fully integrated in his new life. He was Ikkyu Madoka, son of the Fire Daimyo and Madam Shijimi. 

Now, he felt his mother was also a curious case. The woman was loud, dotting as fuck. She was a spendthrift, vain, but also philanthropic. But the real surprise was when he heard her ordering some men around. It turned out, she wasn't a leech, abusing national funds by just being the Fire Daimyo's wife. No, it was the opposite. The woman was filthy rich, coming from a rich merchant family, hence she was able to wed the Daimyo. 

And the fact that his mother genuinely loved him was heartwarming. He hated her hugs, though. She loved squeezing the life out of him and the poor cats around him. The cats were traitors; however, they would hide behind him in her presence so she'd hug him, not them. 

By the age of two, he had planned it all. He was going to use the chaos of the Third Shinobi War to make his fortune. He didn't care much about the timeline or the future knowledge he had, since he knew that the end result was absolute. Behind Madara was the Zetsus, who were working for Kaguya, a being he wasn't armed to deal with.  

So, instead of worrying about what he couldn't do, he focused on what he could. And that was gaining wealth and influence through shady deals and insane contracts. He was good at it, and seeing the state of his father's court, he had to do it. 

Since the grand scheme of madness is inevitable, what if I fund… Akatsuki? Hmm…

"Oh! Where's my little lord? Come here, my sweet baby!" 

All his hair stood on end. Ikkyu jumped to his feet, glared at the cats who were snuggling near him on the bed until a second ago. 

"Traitors!" He cursed and looked for a place to hide. Anywhere to hide from his mother. She brought amazing gifts, but the cost was too steep. "Run."

Having mastered the art of running fast without making a lot of noise, he slipped out from a secondary door. The cats tried to follow, but he locked them in with a big grin. Then, he ran downstairs through the narrow staircase at the back of the castle. It was only used by the servants. From there, he snuck into the basement and finally hid inside a storage room.

Finally, heaving a sigh of relief, he looked around. The place was almost dark, barely any sunlight coming through a tiny air vent at the top edge of the wall. The room was small with towering shelves all around him. They had stacked scrolls, some eating dust, and others clearly new. 

"Hmm… Never explored this one before." He murmured with interest and looked around. Each shelf was labeled clearly, marked with a direction, and the name of the location. There were names he'd never known before. In fact, he only remembered a handful of town or village names in the Land of Fire. And now, there he was, thousands of scrolls naming each small settlement. 

It was clearly a room where records were kept. He unfolded a few scrolls and found tax information. 

Fuck! How are we even making any money? 

He cursed when he read a few of them. The tax system was absurdly simplified, so much so that loopholes were the norm. For example, the farmlands were being taxed not based on how much land was cultivated. Instead, they were taxed based on how much produce was sold in the Land of Fire after subtracting the farmer's personal consumption. 

And sure enough, he barely found any tax being paid. The farmers were likely selling the produce outside the Land of Fire and pocketing all the money.

Moreover, tax was waived for certain items purchased by Konoha. Like medical supplies and military supplies. And in the times of war, all of Konoha's taxes were waived. It was absurd because, as far as he knew, Konoha had been at war longer than it was at peace. 

The income was low, and sure enough, the expenditure was also low. Ikkyu found that the Daimyo's office barely funded any nation-building infrastructure projects. Always only working on basic necessities like bridges. 

Who the fuck is running this country? 

He climbed and grabbed more scrolls. He forgot time and hunger as he sat there the whole time. Reading, cursing the books, and the lack of finer details. Konoha's scroll was the most interesting. Every now and then, special concessions were made to the shinobi village. On top of that, the fuckers still asked for a protection fee for keeping the area around the Daimyo's palace clear of spies. Almost every major building in the shinobi village was funded by the Daimyo. 

This is dogshit! No tax on mission incomes? Unacceptable!  

If anyone had heard the two-year-old future Daimyo ramble on all that, they'd have drowned in sweat. Taxes this or taxes that, taxes on everything. It was a scary thing to listen to because it was likely going to happen in the future. 

When Ikkyu tried to grab another scroll, he realized how dark it had gotten. He couldn't even see his little feet anymore. And knowing his mother must have given up, he decided to head back up. 

Clack!

"Hm?"

Clack!

He tried to push the door open. 

It didn't open. 

Clack!

He tried to push harder. 

It still didn't open. 

"Hah… Heh… I'm fucked! HEEEEELP! OPEN THE DOOR!"

He shouted hard at the gate. He crouched and tried to shout through the bottom gap. He shouted towards the tiny vent. He shouted until his throat became sore. Nobody came to open the door. 

Bam! Bam! Bam!

He kicked it, body slammed it, but it didn't budge. 

It soon turned completely dark. Inside that little storage room, it was pitch black. He couldn't even see his hand an inch from his face. 

But Ikkyu didn't panic. Since the shit had hit the fan, he had to sit down and let it reek. He leaned against the door and sat down. The door was going to be opened in the morning anyway. And staying hungry for one night was nothing harsh. 

####

“Cock-a-doodle-do!"

Fuck!

It was morning. He jolted awake by that very distant crowing. No, it wasn't the morning of the second day. In fact, it was the morning of the fourth day. He'd been stuck in there for three nights now. 

By now, he was dehydrated, hungry, and in pain all over his body. Nobody came to open the door, and nobody listened to his scream. It was absurd because the basement was regularly used. 

This has to be planned. Someone's trying to kill me, that's gotta be it. 

But he was stuck, and that was a fact. Once again, he lay down flat on his belly and rubbed his lips on the stone floor. It was cold and had some moisture in it. Not enough to drink, but he felt his lips were getting wet by that if he sucked hard enough. 

It was a humbling experience. He wasn't safe even inside his home. 

Hours passed, and his energy was precious, so he didn't scream anymore. Instead, he used some wood from the expensive-looking scrolls and started carving the gaps in the stone wall beside the door. All he needed was a small gap to slide through, being so scrawny. 

Grrrrr~

His stomach grumbled. It was pitch black darkness once again. His fourth night there. Knowing that a human can't survive without water beyond three days, he was at his limit. His ears started to ring, mind started to show delusions. Tsunade's smiling face of all things, and Orochimaru, licking his lips while looking at him. 

"F-Fuck off… snake fucker…" He mumbled mindlessly. 

Then came extreme hunger. He still saw Tsunade, but instead of her pretty face, now there was a juicy burger, and then a pizza, and then a bowl of ramen. 

"Mm… hungry… mm…"

He looked left and right aimlessly. All the scrolls there started to look like spring rolls, Swiss rolls, and even croissants. He started drooling like a madman or a kid. Aimlessly, he grabbed the nearest one, a Swiss roll. 

"Nomm…" 

He took a big bite.

Woosh!

"..."

"W-Wha… What?" 

That Swiss roll vanished into thin air. No, he felt it; it traveled down his throat. But at that point, he couldn't think. He grabbed another one, a spring roll this time, and ate it. Once again, it vanished down his throat like a shameless guzzler of a questionable lifestyle.

Then came the croissants, and then another Swiss roll. What a delight, he thought. Just one bite and it would vanish down his throat. The best part was that he actually felt full. 

"Ugh… Tobirama year two report, tax paid… What? What am I saying?"

His eyes jolted wide open, but with realization. And that wasn't the only random information in his head. Hashirama year five report. Hiruzen year one report. Renmi village report… Ikkyu chakra Healing technique.

"Healing what?!" 

Without even trying to remember, he just knew it. What was written in that scroll. He knew it on a level that felt intimate, like he'd known it all his life. It felt like his own, as if he'd made it. And just like he knew that, he moved his hand and put his palm on his chest. 

"I-I… Is this… Chakra?!"

His palm glowed in a faint blue hue. It was a first for him, but it felt like he'd done it countless times before. The same feeling as when Tsunade did it. Warm, ticklish, and full. He felt less pain, less fatigue, and less hunger. 

But in the end, he still wasn't a regular shinobi. He had a limited amount of chakra. So, he stopped when his breath became harsh. But now, his curiosity was piqued. He looked…

"I can look? How?"

It was pitch black darkness still, yet he could somehow perceive the shadows now. He knew what was in front of him. He felt his own body at a more detailed level. He could feel the chakra within, its flow. 

So many questions left unanswered, he looked at both his hands and, for an experiment, tried to manipulate the chakra flow towards his hands. 

Shhh~

It was instant. No hesitation, no struggle. Both his palms glowed faint blue. 

"I'm a shinobi now? How?"

He was excited, but he wanted answers. That sudden influx of information. The only thing that could answer that was the now disappeared spring rolls, Swiss rolls, and croissants.

"Ugh…" He grabbed a scroll at random and gave it a go. 

Swoosh~

It vanished into his throat. He coughed instinctively as he felt it so clearly this time. It actually went down his throat. 

"Trade report with Land of Tea…" He muttered as that information reached his head. It stayed there after that, permanently. All the numbers were at his fingertips. As if he'd written that report himself. He knew all the problems in them and all the good parts. 

Ikkyu gulped hard. What he'd just discovered was massive. Groundbreaking. Just eat a scroll and learn its contents. What Tsunade had drawn was, in the end, just a chakra flow to heal him. Just from that, he'd learn to flow chakra. Just by eating, he knew all the numbers. 

W-What if I eat scrolls of other techniques? Flying Thunder God, Edo Tensei, Shadow Clones… Fuck! Uzumaki's sealing techniques? Fuck—There's no limit!

But at the same time, he understood the part that limited his joy. His chakra was tiny, barely enough to perform a simple fire attack. He needed to somehow increase his chakra reserves or find a way to store them in his body. 

Hmm… Can I become a Jinchuriki? Too dangerous though… Hmm…

So excited that he forgot his hunger and thirst. He ate a few more scrolls and made it absolutely sure that the goldmine he'd stumbled upon was real. 

Then, finally, he looked at the locked door. It was doubtful if it'd work, but he had to give it a try. 

"Let's see… gather the chakra in my fist and then…"

BOOM!

He punched the wooden door with all his might. It exploded outwards, splintering like a thin sheet. The hinges gave way, and the stone frame cracked. The noise was intense enough to shake the walls. 

"YOU! How did you come out?!"

"I knew it!" Ikkyu roared towards the man who shouted. "The court scribe? Aren't you the scribe? You locked me in here, didn't you?!"

The medium built man sneered, his eyes bloodshot. He took out a knife and lunged at Ikkyu. 

"Ugh!" Ikkyu jumped backwards to save himself. He remained a small, two-year-old in the end. He wasn't fast or strong enough. But he tried his best despite the fatigue from using that chakra-imbued punch. 

Clank!

The scribe was clearly not a shinobi as the man clumsily waved the knife. 

"Come here, you little shit! How dare you humiliate me in full court!"

"What? When did—Oh, when you wrote the wrong numbers?" Ikkyu remembered that incident from two months ago. "You'll kill me for that?"

"No! I'll skin you!" 

Ikkyu gritted his teeth and kept jumping away, ducking, and rolling over to save himself. However, the bastard had locked the second door leading to the stairs as well. He was locked in there. 

Just enough for one more. 

He tried to time it perfectly. He let the scribe jump towards him mindlessly. Instead of dodging, Ikkyu just ducked down for a short moment, infused chakra on his right fist, and jumped straight up like Superman. 

BAM!

It was audible. Not just the uppercut to the jaw, but the very sound of the jaw breaking. That crunch, that sound of teeth shattering, that wet squelch. That was the difference between a kid with barely any chakra control and a normal man. It finally made sense to Ikkyu why shinobi villages were important. Even the kids were no less than mass murdering weapons. 

Thud!

The scribe and Ikkyu both fell at the same time. While the man was knocked unconscious, bleeding profusely, Ikkyu was more sleepy and out of breath. 

Knock! Knock!

He heard it and looked behind weakly while lying down flat on the floor. The wooden door shattered and went flying. 

Damn, she really is my guardian angel. 

From the other side came Tsunade of all people, face scrunched with fury. However, as soon as she looked at Ikkyu, and then the scribe bleeding from his face, Tsunade fell backwards, eyes wide in horror. She turned around and ran away, gasping for air. 

Ikkyu sighed and closed his eyes. He knew about her hæmophobia. 

But why's she here?

####

For him—Tsunade Senju had come for Ikkyu to check up on his disease. 

She wanted to try some new methods she had developed, and heal him for a longer period of time. But that became unnecessary once she touched his arm and felt chakra flowing similar to a shinobi. 

Once the blood was cleaned, she checked the room where he was locked. She saw what he'd done to the room's door. Then she listened to the arrested scribe's statement. The boy's right hand glowed before the punch landed. 

That made it all clear. Ikkyu had enough chakra to be a shinobi. While not a lot, it was enough to be called a shinobi. And that mere fact, the future Daimyo being a shinobi, changed everything. It could bring the Daimyo closer to Konoha and benefit the entire village. 

But of course, that was Hiruzen's thought process. Not Tsunade's. She was more interested in how Ikkyu harnessed his limited chakra and was genuinely surprised by it. How he healed his own disease was also amazing. While that disease wasn't fully gone, Ikkyu didn't need anyone's help to keep it in check now. 

After Tsunade healed Ikkyu of some minor injuries, she met with the Daimyo and his wife that evening over dinner. The ruling couple showed her plenty of respect. For saving their son two years ago, and even now. 

"Ikkyu should come with me to Konoha. I won’t be training him myself, but there are people there who can help. He’s able to use chakra, Lord Daimyo. If we guide him properly, it might resolve his disease—and even make him stronger."

The Fire Daimyo looked at his wife with discomfort and sighed. “Your concern is heard, Lady Tsunade, and I’m grateful. But Ikkyu won’t be moved. I asked him to accompany me to Konoha two months ago. He refused. Truth is, he hasn’t left the palace at all since his birth.”

Tsunade frowned. That was unheard of. Usually, people were excited to visit Konoha. "Has he given any reason?”

"Not that I’ve heard. Maybe he's too fond of the cats," Madam Shijimi said. "They're inseparable."

Tsunade doubted that and pondered over it. She wanted to bring the boy along on her journey as she was leaving Konoha for good. But knowing he was the Daimyo's firstborn, that was likely impossible. The next best thing was for him to study in Konoha. But for that, the boy wasn't ready. 

“If it’s alright…” Tsunade glanced at the couple gently. “Let me talk to him—just once. I’ll do my best to help him understand. If he still refuses, we can arrange a tutor for him. But he should learn with other children his age. And since the academy won’t take him before three, moving now would give him time to ease into everything."

“Sounds perfect. I’ll go with him,” Madam Shijimi said with a proud smile. "I feel for my little lord. He has no friends here, none his age. Isn't that right, darling? I'll buy the most beautiful mansion for Ikkyu, and all the jutsu scrolls his heart desires, isn't that right, darling?"

"..."

Lord Daimyo, the ruler of the Land of Fire, just nodded when faced with the real financier behind his seat. He agreed with his wife instantly. "Let Lady Tsunade speak with Ikkyu in the morning."

"Thank you, Lord Daimyo." Tsunade bowed her head and finished the dinner. 

####

"Meeeeeow! Myooooooowwwwww!"

"You little shit! Come here, it was you who ratted me out, wasn't it?! You told Mother my hiding spot!" 

Being a kid was so much fun. No need to hold back words. Eat whatever you want. Do whatever you want. Nobody ever got angry at him. And since he was considered pretty smart, his parents let him be. 

And currently, he was busy drowning the white cat that had been the bane of his existence. The most loyal of the bunch towards his mother. The fucker revealed his hiding spot, and the punishment was a deep bubbly bath. 

“Nyaaaaaaa!”

"Screaming won't help." Ikkyu declared and scrubbed the hell out of the cat's head. 

It was his private bath with a large, tiled tub, deep enough so the water reached his chest, but not deep enough for him to drown. It was steaming, covered in foam, and the flowery essence the servants put in the water was mind-blowing. Being born rich was the best. 

Splash!

At last, he let the cat go and dry itself with furious shakes. Ikkyu just relaxed, arms wide, head leaning back, eyes closed. 

What to do now? I need ninja scrolls to eat. 

Scrrrrrrr~

He heard the sound of the sliding door opening. Without looking, he waved. "I'm not done yet, mother! Ten, no twenty more minutes."

Scrrrr~

The door closed again. Or that was what he thought until he heard footsteps coming closer. Still afraid someone was after him, he turned around quickly to look. 

"Lady Tsunade?!"

Splash!

He sat down as deep as he could in the water and squeezed his legs shut. The older woman was fully dressed in her usual grass-green haori, a grey kimono blouse, a dark-bluish-grey obi, and pants. She was just barefoot, holding a block of soap. 

While Ikkyu had no troublesome thoughts, and his body was simply unable to send those signals to his brain at the moment. He still felt conscious about it. In his own self-confession, he had a sort of crush on this older woman from the day she saved his life as a tiny baby. 

"Don't be shy, Ikkyu. I'm a medical-nin—I've seen enough men and women bare. Go on, turn around. I'll wash your hair and talk to you about something important."

But why in the bath? Damn, not enough bubbles!

He stiffly turned around just as she said and gathered some bubbles on his lap. Next moment, he felt the older woman sit behind him, throw her legs snuggly beside his shoulder, and dip her feet in the water. Then, she wet the soap and started to wash his hair. 

Ikkyu gulped, a little nervous and more shy. Honestly, he didn't have much experience dating. Worrying about insulin first and then cartel money kept him busy for too many years. His only experience was back in high school, and it only lasted one week. The good part was that the bitch got herpes from the guy she cheated on him with. 

"So, you're a shinobi now?"

He returned to the real world once her smooth voice reached his ears. It had a mature vibe to it, one that made his skin tingle and tickle. Once again, it was just a feeling of warmth in his heart. Like a boy who finally got some attention from his crush. Nothing crude, nothing unholy, just happy vibes. 

"I think so." He replied normally. Her fingers massaging his scalp made him so relaxed that he just melted, his back between her legs, and he unknowingly leaned backwards a bit, almost falling asleep. 

"Um-hm." She said, actually massaging his scalp now. "You know, I had a little brother… he… isn’t with us anymore."

Ikkyu stiffened in the water. He felt her legs squeeze against the sides of his shoulders. Clearly struggling with her words, as her brother had died very recently. He looked for words to comfort her, but there weren't any. 

“He said he wanted to be Hokage,” Tsunade said, not as sharp as before, her hand easing back into his scalp. “What about you? Got a dream?”

Ikkyu thought for a second, getting used to her warm presence, and nodded. "I don’t know... I just wanna build stuff. Like bridges, towns, cities, canals—real things people can use. Help the people of the Land of Fire, y’know? Make things better, I guess."

That was true; he just omitted the fact that he was going to use his shady money to do all that. 

Tsunade smiled gently, her voice low but warm. "That's a great dream to have. But you'll need to grow stronger for that. You'll need to learn and master your chakra. If you’re up for it… Why not come to Konoha? We can help you. So—what do you say?”

Konoha? Can I train there? But I'm not from there. 

Initially, he was interested in Konoha. But then he just got settled into the fantastic, luxurious life at the palace. He was more interested in learning how to rule, as he had no chakra. Build his base and network. But having chakra changed everything. Sure, he didn't want to live in Konoha. He just wanted to eat as many scrolls as he could and return home. 

"I can train there?"

"You're the Daimyo's son. Of course you can."

"Then… Will you teach me?" He asked with hope. He wanted to learn her chakra storing technique. 

Tsunade shook her head. "Sorry, Ikkyu, I can’t help with that. But I know someone who can. She’s smart, experienced, and honestly, you’ll learn a lot. And you’ll run into Kushina there too. She’s fun—you’ll see."

Kushina? She'll teach me? Isn't she too young?

"Heh, I’ve got a feeling she’d love teaching the next Daimyo. So… what do you say? Want to learn from Mito Uzumaki herself?"

"She's alive?!" Ikkyu blurted out without thinking, twisting his head backward to look at her face, all steamed up and pretty. 

Tsunade stared back at him in confusion. “She’s alive and kicking. Yeah, she’s older, but don’t count her out just yet—she’s still got enough in her to deal with you.”

Seriously? She's not dead? What about the tailed beast? Wait, I can learn Uzumaki techniques? Can I?

"Umm…" He thought hard about it, or just acted to think. He had to keep the kid-ish persona for now, just for a little while. "I'll go if you give me something, Tsunade."

"Just call me Tsuna, we're friends, aren't we?"

Is she just trying to curry favor with the next Daimyo, or is this real? 

He was confused. But he accepted it. 

"Yes, yes—Tsuna, can you give me… some scrolls to read? The one for walking on water… and trees… that's all." He requested, purposefully making an innocent puppy face while staring up at her face upside down. 

Tsunade smiled and pulled his cheeks softly. 

"Sure, anything for little Daimyo."

"Awesome! I'll throw those damn traitor cats in the middle of the lake from now on!"

"..."

Her smile vanished.

________________

A/N: Canonically, Mito is supposed to be dead. But I'm keeping her alive for a year or two to act as Ikkyu's introduction to Kushina. Also, give him a chance to eat some Uzumaki scrolls. 

Please leave a like if you liked it. Any plot or smut suggestions if you have any.