Naruto:This Time, I, Kotetsu Hagane, Will No Longer Be Lazy

Kotetsu Hagane slowly stirred awake, the morning light filtering through the thin curtains of his modest apartment. He blinked a few times, still adjusting to the reality of being in a new world—one he had only known through stories before his unexpected reincarnation. A full week had passed since he began working as a chunin under Konoha's administration.

His best friend, Izumo Kamizuki woke him up and dragged him to work, despite his protest. Leaving him with little time to take in the village beyond his duties, without drawing suspicion. Afterall who'd want to be dragged in to see the Yamanaka's for questioning. Its like being mind Fucked in a freaky hentai.

Yikes

No thank you.

But today was different. Its his first day off. Meaning a chance to explore.

He sat up, running some water over his unruly dark hair. As his fingers absently traced over the scar across his nose, a familiar ache settled in his chest. The memory of how he got it surfaced unbidden.

His father's harsh voice rang in his ears, drilling the fundamentals of their family's sword style into him. The relentless training, the sharp sting of failure, and the cold steel against his skin. His father hadn't meant to wound him so deeply—but intent mattered little when discipline turned into something closer to punishment. 

Then, the scene shifted. His mother—her voice sharp with anger—had stepped between them. He remembered the sting of silence after the loud slap echoed through the training hall. His father had stood there, stunned, before storming off without another word. That day had been the beginning of his fractured family dynamics. 

Shaking off the memory, Kotetsu exhaled sharply and swung his legs off the bed. Dwelling on the past wouldn't change it. He had a day off, and he wasn't going to waste it sulking over old wounds.

He went through his morning routine with practiced ease—brushing his teeth, washing up, and dressing without his usual shinobi attire for once. Wearing something similar to what many have in their closet but never wore casual. A long sleeve black Cotten shirt, spiral marks to symbolize the Uzumaki clan on his sides, and jogger pants that were similar to shinobi pants. 

His plan for today?

Go shopping for new clothes, something more for comfort, similar to his past life. Also to eat some ramen. It would be a crime not to. Then lastly the ideal training method for himself.

Stepping out of his moderate apartment, he took a deep breath of the crisp morning air. The scent of fresh bread from a nearby bakery mixed with the distant aroma of sizzling street food. The village was alive, buzzing with activity. 

"Time to see what this place has to offer," he muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he set off down the bustling streets of Konoha.

Kotetsu strolled down the bustling streets of Konoha, finally allowing himself to take in the village beyond the mission assignments and hurried commutes. The morning sunbathed the village in a warm glow, illuminating the wooden buildings with their curved roofs and painted banners swaying gently in the breeze. The streets, paved with smooth stones, were already alive with merchants setting up stalls, shinobi heading to their posts, and civilians going about their daily routines.

The scent of food hit him first—savory, rich, and utterly mouthwatering. The aroma of grilled yakitori mingled with the sharp tang of miso broth, and further down, the unmistakable scent of sweet dango being lightly toasted over charcoal. His stomach grumbled in response, reminding him that he had barely eaten anything substantial the past few days beyond quick meals between missions.

"Guess it's time to treat myself," Kotetsu murmured, weaving through the crowd toward a row of street vendors.

His first stop was a small yakitori stand run by an elderly man with graying hair tied back in a bun. The scent of chicken skewers sizzling over an open flame was irresistible.

"Morning, young man! You look like you could use a good meal," the vendor greeted him with a warm smile, turning a skewer with practiced ease.

"Yeah, something like that," Kotetsu said, leaning on the wooden counter. "I'll take three skewers."

The vendor grinned, brushing a thick layer of tare sauce over the meat before handing them over. Kotetsu took a bite, savoring the smoky-sweet flavor.

"You're one of the village shinobi, right?" the man asked, watching him chew. "You lot are always so busy. Rare to see one of you actually enjoying the village instead of running off on some mission."

The man's comments could be taken as disrespect to some shinobi, but Kotetsu was different. As a transmigrator he was closer in ideology to this man than the common ninja. Most shinobi only think about battle, the next mission, and staying loyal to the village despite the hard times. Giving everything they have to the Will of Fire, to Konoha, to the third Hokage.

No modern person would believe or imagine entertaining such nonsense. The selfish, and power hungry are the ones that sit on the throne to decide the fate of the rest. To them their expendable cattle, more could be breed.

The third hokage, Orochimaru, Pain, Obito, and countless others would kill you without a second thought if you got in their way.

Normal ninja are too focused on missions to take a breather, for loyalty of course but also because being a ninja was not cheap. It could offer good money but could also put you in life-or-death spots. One serious wound and you could be dead or lose your career. And a ninja that loses his or her career is like a broken knife, useless. 

Not to mention many of the horror stories of being a ninja, especially the kunoichi.

So why give your life for the village when you could just be rich instead. Why do ninja's choose to serve the village over a cushiony job in the daimyo's court.

Who knows.

Bu my money is on the Will of Fire.

Kotetsu chuckled. "First day off in a week. Figured I'd see what I've been missing."

"Good choice," the vendor said. "Life's not just about missions, you know. Sometimes, you gotta slow down and take in the little things."

Kotetsu nodded, swallowing the last bite before tossing the empty skewer into a small disposal bin nearby. 

Continuing his stroll, he stopped by a taiyaki stand next, drawn in by the scent of red bean paste and warm batter. A woman, likely in her late thirties, smiled as she handed a fresh fish-shaped pastry to a little girl.

Kotetsu stepped forward, slipping a few ryo onto the counter. "One, please."

"You got it! Fresh off the pan," the vendor said, passing him the still-warm taiyaki wrapped in parchment paper.

As he bit into it, the crisp outer layer gave way to the sweet, gooey filling, and for a moment, he simply enjoyed the taste.

"You new around here?" the vendor asked, tilting her head curiously.

"Been here a while, but work keeps me busy," Kotetsu answered. "Figured it was about time I saw what the village had to offer."

"Well, welcome to civilian life, even if it's just for the day," she said with a laugh. "Enjoy it while you can."

He smiled and nodded, continuing on his way, his hands in his pockets as he took slow, deliberate steps.

The streets of Konoha were a mixture of the old and the new—traditional paper lanterns hanging above shop entrances, wooden signs hand-painted with family names, and small temples tucked away in quiet corners. But alongside them were the signs of a shinobi village always prepared for war: training grounds in the distance, shinobi passing messages between buildings, and the ever-present Hokage Monument watching over them.

For the first time since arriving in this world, Kotetsu felt something close to peace. Allowing the darker elements of this village escape his mind, if only just for today.

 He savors the rare moment of solitude. Without Izumo by his side, the world felt strangely muted.

His usual morning consisted of duty at the gate, paperwork, or getting dragged into something ridiculous by his best friend. But today was different—no obligations, no investigations, just a day to himself. He found himself wandering toward one of the smaller village parks, a peaceful retreat lined with cherry blossom trees. The soft pink petals drifted down with the breeze, painting the cobblestone path in delicate hues. He stretched lazily, contemplating grabbing some breakfast when something caught his attention.

As he crossed a narrow wooden bridge over a koi pond, his attention was drawn to a lone woman standing near the water's edge. She was draped in a flowing dark kimono, long wavy purple hair and cropped bangs hung over her face cascading over her shoulders, she appeared to be still in her 20s, bit older than him, but no doubt was still a beautiful woman.

her posture serene yet strangely detached from her surroundings. In her hands, she held a small bundle wrapped in cloth.

At first, he paid little mind to her—just another villager enjoying the tranquility of the garden. But something about the way she moved caught his eye. She took a slow step forward, her foot hesitating slightly before touching the ground. Her head tilted ever so slightly, as if listening for something.

Then, she stepped onto an uneven stone.

Kotetsu's instincts flared as she appeared to stumble forward, teetering dangerously close to the pond's edge. Without thinking, he lunged toward her, reaching out to steady her.

Before his hands could make contact, however, he noticed something—her body had already started to shift. A subtle flex of her fingers, the slightest repositioning of her weight. She was already adjusting, prepared to counterbalance herself.

Still, he completed the motion, gently gripping her shoulders to stabilize her.

For a moment, she remained still in his grasp, her fingers tightening slightly around the bundle she carried. Then, she exhaled softly, as if amused.

"Are you alright?" Kotetsu asked, brow furrowed.

She gave a small, knowing smile. "Yes… Though I appreciate your concern."

Kotetsu now had a closer look at her face. Her eyes, or where her eyes should have been, were covered with soft white bandages.

"You're blind," he blurted before he could stop himself.

The woman chuckled lightly. "That is what they tell me."

Kotetsu scratched the back of his head, feeling awkward. "Yeah, uh… sorry, that was obvious." His gaze flickered to the bundle in her hands. "Are you sure you're okay? That was a close one."

She tilted her head slightly. "Was it?"

Kotetsu blinked. There was something almost teasing in her tone, as if she had never truly been in danger at all. He thought back to that split second before he grabbed her—how smoothly she had begun to adjust her footing.

"You… you could've caught yourself, couldn't you?" he realized.

Her smile deepened but she said nothing, confirming his suspicion without words.

Kotetsu huffed. "You let me help you, didn't you?"

"Would you have preferred if I let you feel useless?" she countered lightly.

Kotetsu sighed. "Man, you're something else."

She chuckled again, a quiet, almost nostalgic sound.

"Well," Kotetsu continued, shaking off the strange moment, "since I already played hero, might as well make sure you don't trip again. Mind if I walk you back?"

She hesitated for a brief moment before resting her hand lightly on his offered arm. "Very well."

Kotetsu snaps as if now remembering something, "Oh by the way my name is Kotetsui Hagane its nice to meet you."

Ko...Kotetsu Hagane, its nice to meet you as well. The woman repeated as if to familiarize herself with the foreign name.

They walked slowly along the garden path, Kotetsu guiding her past the uneven stones. Despite her blindness, she moved with the precision of someone who knew exactly where each step would land.

"You're a shinobi," she noted after a while.

Kotetsu glanced at her, surprised. "How'd you know?"

"The way you move," she said. "Light on your feet, controlled. Civilians hesitate when guiding someone, uncertain of their actions. But you… adjusted without a second thought."

Kotetsu let out a low whistle. "You're pretty sharp."

Her only response was a soft smile.

As they reached the end of the garden path, she gently withdrew her hand from his arm. "Thank you for your kindness."

Kotetsu shrugged. "I wasn't gonna let you fall into a pond."

She turned slightly, as if considering something, before finally speaking again. "I suppose it's only fair to share my name… Naori. Naori Uchiha."

Kotetsu stiffened.

Can I not escape this clan for one day, with him feeling a headache come from this, feeling like tsunade after she actually won one of her big gambles. This was a bad omen.

"Uchiha…" he repeated, the name sticking in his throat.

Naori stood quietly, as if weighing his reaction. The brief hesitation, the tension in his voice—she had heard it countless times before. The way people froze upon hearing her clan's name, the way their expressions flickered with suspicion or distrust, however brief.

She said nothing about it. Instead, she simply smiled—a polite, unreadable smile that masked whatever thoughts she might have had.

"Until we meet again," she said gently, then turned and walked away.

Kotetsu remained standing, watching her go, though she kept a polite demeanor I get the feeling her goodbye felt curter. Something about this encounter felt… significant. But for now, all he could do was wonder why.

Kotetsu wandered through the lively streets of Konoha until he spotted a weapons shop tucked between two larger buildings. A well-worn wooden sign above the entrance read Takeshi's Armory, and the faint scent of oil and polished steel wafted through the open doorway.

He stepped inside, the subtle jingle of the entrance bell announcing his arrival. The shop was lined with neatly arranged weapons—rows of kunai and shuriken gleamed under the soft lantern light, while shelves displayed various tools of the trade: fuma shuriken, senbon, tanto, and even the occasional exotic weapon. The air had the sharp tang of metal and oiled leather.

Behind the wooden counter stood a middle-aged man with a rugged face, a thick brown beard peppered with gray, and a single scar running down his right cheek. He wore a simple sleeveless gi, exposing his muscular arms, and had the air of a veteran shinobi turned craftsman.

"Morning," Kotetsu greeted, stepping up to the counter.

The shopkeeper looked him up and down before offering a nod. "New face. Haven't seen you in here before."

"First time," Kotetsu admitted, scanning the neatly arranged kunai. "Figured I should get familiar with the shop. Need some kunai and—" his eyes drifted over to a section of more specialized tools, landing on a coiled Kusari-Fundo—a short chain with weighted ends. "One of those."

The shopkeeper raised a brow. "Interesting choice. You trained with a Kusari-Fundo before?"

Kotetsu hesitated for a moment. In his previous life? No. But his memories of Kotetsu Hagane's training included rudimentary chain weapon techniques from his father's relentless lessons. Enough to know how to wield it, even if he wasn't a master.

"A bit," Kotetsu said. "Figured I should sharpen my skills with it."

The shopkeeper hummed approvingly, grabbing a few kunai and the Kusari-Fundo before setting them on the counter. "Most stick to kunai and swords. A chain weapon takes patience and control. You planning to use it for grappling, offense, or disarming?"

"A mix of all three," Kotetsu said, picking up the weapon and testing the weight in his palm. The iron felt cold and solid, but well-balanced. He gave a small flick of his wrist, watching the chain's fluid motion as the weight danced in the air before settling.

"Good balance," he noted.

The shopkeeper smirked. "Only sell the best."

Before Kotetsu could respond, the entrance bell jingled again.

A familiar voice cut through the room. "Oi, Takeshi! You better have that order ready, or I'm taking my business elsewhere!"

Kotetsu turned to see none other than Anko Mitarashi strolling in. She was as lively as ever, but unlike her canon design she wore the standard Anbu uniform, consisting of black and grey Armour, metal arm guards, but instead had a fishnet shirt with a reddish-brown shirt over that and a black skirt instead of beige. With her wild purple hair tied up in a spiky ponytail. She looked around the shop before her gaze landed on Kotetsu.

Finally, as if she descended from the heavens yelling Oi, Gaki you better have my money was none other than the woman of my dreams. As a child watching OG Naruto this woman was the epidemy of sexy. She was practically glowing.

Then that little bastard Ruined not only his fathers legacy but some of the sexiest woman of my youth. Anko, Mei Terumi, Kurenai, and countless others. But anko had it worst as she was left looking like she was apart of the branch family of the Akimichi clan, and single, I would have been fine if either Kakashi or Iruka ended up with her. Heck even if she swung both ways and ended up with a girl that was fine. But nothing was just depressing.

"Oh? Didn't expect to see you here," she said, tilting her head. With this snapping Kotetsu back to reality.

"What, finally deciding to upgrade from basic shinobi gear?" Anko teased.

From what he knows about this bodies memories, he wasn't friends with the girl but was at least classmates with her in the academy. He wasn't selected to the same team as her because he lacked ninjutsu talent, but still did relatively well since he didn't die.

Kotetsu smirked. "Something like that. Thought I'd pick up a Kusari-Fundo."

Anko blinked, then grinned. "Didn't take you for the chain-wielding type. Gonna start pulling off some flashy moves?"

Kotetsu shrugged. "Figured it wouldn't hurt to have more options in a fight."

Takeshi snorted. "That's the smartest thing I've heard a shinobi say in weeks."

Anko leaned on the counter. "Well, if you ever need someone to spar with, I'd be happy to help. Always good to test yourself against someone with unorthodox weapons."

Kotetsu chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."

Takeshi handed Anko a wrapped package. "Here's your order—fresh batch of kunai, just how you like 'em."

Anko grabbed it with a grin, tossing a few coins onto the counter. "Pleasure doing business, old man."

Kotetsu paid for his gear as well, securing the Kusari-Fundo to his belt and tucking the kunai into his pouch.

As he turned to leave, Anko clapped him on the back. "Don't go breaking your nose with that thing on your first try," she teased before sauntering out of the shop.

Kotetsu shook his head with an amused smile before stepping out into the village once more, his new weapon in tow.

Kotetsu stepped out of the weapons shop, adjusting the Kusari-Fundo at his waist as he watched Anko stroll off with her purchase. He considered just heading to a training ground to test out his new weapon on his own, but a thought crossed his mind.

"Oi, Anko!" he called out.

She paused mid-step, turning around with a raised brow. "Hmm? Couldn't bear to see me go, huh?"

Kotetsu rolled his eyes. "Not quite. You mentioned sparring, and I was about to go train anyway. Might as well take you up on the offer."

Anko's lips curled into a mischievous grin as she sauntered back toward him. "So, you're asking me on a date, huh? Gotta say, I didn't think you had it in you, Kotetsu."

Unfazed, Kotetsu simply smirked. "If you consider getting thrown around in a training ground a date, sure."

A flash of hesitation and surprised marked her face for a moment but quickly left, as if it wasn't there. Anko chuckled. "Oh, I like this. Alright, fine—I've got nothing better to do. Let's see if you can keep up."

The two made their way to one of Konoha's smaller training grounds, a secluded clearing surrounded by trees with a few scattered training dummies. Anko stretched her arms above her head, letting her impressive bust be stared at by the world. Rolling her shoulders before cracking her knuckles.

"Let's start with hand-to-hand," she said, a playful glint in her eyes. "Try not to embarrass yourself too badly."

Both Anko and Kotetsu were the same age currently, being 18, but their talents in the eyes of the higher ups was vastly different. As in a couple of years Anko will be able to apply for a promotion to Jonin, getting rejected but will be offered Tokubetsu Jōnin. Then nothing else, which doesn't seem that crazy until you notice that it only took her 2 years to be strong enough for chunin at the age of 12. Meaning from 12 to 24 she only got slightly better, so yeah, its a complete waste in talent.

Kotetsu settled into a stance, keeping his guard up. "We'll see about that."

Anko was on him in an instant. She moved fast—faster than he expected. He barely had time to block as her knee came up toward his ribs, followed by a sharp elbow aimed at his head. He deflected it, but she pivoted smoothly, catching him in the stomach with a quick jab.

He staggered back slightly, regaining his footing just as she pressed forward, her movements fluid and relentless. Kotetsu focused on defense, countering where he could, but Anko had experience and an aggressive style that kept him on the back foot.

'So, this is what the student of Orochimaru can do.'

Here fighting style, the Hidden Shadow Snake was perfect for people with flexible limbs and quick strikes hitting you from multiple angles. Making the attacks feel like their overwhelming you.

After a sharp sweep of her leg knocked him flat onto his back, Anko leaned over him with a victorious smirk. "Tsk, tsk, Kotetsu. You're gonna have to do better than that if you wanna impress me."

Kotetsu exhaled, shaking his head before pushing himself back up. "Hand-to-hand's not my specialty," he admitted, dusting himself off. "But let's see how you do with weapons."

Anko's eyes lit up. "Ooooh, now you're speaking my language."

They each drew their weapons—Anko with a kunai in each hand, Kotetsu wielding a short blade he had picked up earlier. The moment their weapons clashed, the battle shifted.

Now, it was Anko who found herself on the defensive.

Kotetsu moved with precision, his strikes well-placed and efficient. He made up for his lack of talent with solid technique, smoothly parrying her attacks and forcing her back. When she tried to overwhelm him with speed, he was unmoved, keeping up with her in hand movements. Then countered with calculated movements, redirecting her strikes before delivering his own.

Kotetsu and Izumo weren't talented shinobi's because they had a limited arsenal in ninjutsu but make up with it in genjutsu, kenjutsu, and speed. They were both able to sneak up on Hidan and Kakuzu. A chunin to elite Jonin threat in Hidan but a low Kage level threat in Kakuzu. Sneaking up on them with pure speed isn't something most in the shinobi world could do, but what makes it more impressive is that these two don't train due to them working at the gate most of the time in the show. Meaning these stats are their base stats with no training. 

"Damn," Anko muttered, hopping back as his blade nicked the edge of her sleeve. "You've got some skill with a blade, huh?"

Kotetsu smirked. "Better than my hand-to-hand, at least."

She lunged again, but Kotetsu sidestepped, bringing his blade up to lightly tap against her ribs.

"Point for me," he said casually.

Anko pouted exaggeratedly. "Ugh, fine. I'll give you this."

They continued sparring for a while, Anko still throwing in teasing comments every time they got close.

"You know, if you keep winning like this, I might just have to start liking you, Kotetsu."

Kotetsu, unfazed, simply rolled his shoulders. "Then I guess I'll have to keep winning."

Anko blinked, she was not expecting someone in the village to say this to her.

Anko soon recovered, then laughed. "Ohhh, I think I really like you now."

By the time they finally called it quits, both were breathing hard but satisfied with the session. Anko stretched, placing her hands behind her head as she grinned at him.

"Not bad, Kotetsu. You're fun."

Kotetsu sheathed his weapon. "Glad you think so. We should do this again sometime."

Anko smirked. "Careful, say things like that, and I might start thinking you actually want to date me."

Kotetsu just gave her a dry look before shaking his head. "Come on, I'll buy us something to eat. Consider it a reward for your one victory."

Anko cackled. "Now that sounds like a date."