After signing the contract and thanking Ayame repeatedly, Naruto rushed home at full speed, nearly tripping over the steps more than once.
The moment he shut the door behind him, he dumped everything he was carrying onto the table—paper, brushes, ink, even a spare notebook he'd scavenged earlier—spreading them out with exaggerated care, as if preparing for a sacred ritual.
Then he sat down hard on the chair and shouted inside his mind.
"Lock! Lock! It passed! The manuscript passed!"
His voice echoed with unrestrained excitement.
"They said it'll be serialized first, and once it reaches a hundred thousand words, they'll print it as a proper book! A real one, sold in stores!"
Naruto's chest rose and fell rapidly. His face was flushed, eyes bright, as if he'd just won a war all on his own.
"Let's hurry and write the rest! If we finish fast, we can—"
"You're too loud."
Lock's calm, indifferent voice cut through Naruto's excitement like cold water.
"I watched the entire process. There's no need to repeat it."
Naruto paused, then scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"Oh… right."
Before he could continue, Lock spoke again.
"However, before we proceed, we need to discuss something important."
Naruto blinked. "Huh? What is it?"
"The earnings."
"…The earnings?"
Naruto tilted his head, genuinely confused.
"Isn't it our money? I mean, it's not like we're separate people. If we earn something, we both use it, right?"
There was a brief silence in his consciousness.
Then Lock laughed—quietly, coldly.
"I wrote every word. I structured the plot, designed the pacing, and controlled the execution."
"You provided the body."
"And you think that entitles you to an equal share?"
Naruto froze.
When Lock put it that way, it sounded… painfully reasonable.
Naruto's shoulders slumped.
"…Okay. Then how do you want to split it?"
"Ninety–ten."
Naruto's eyes widened.
"N-Ninety to you?! I only get ten percent?!"
"Yes."
Lock's tone was flat, leaving no room for negotiation.
"Ten percent is more than enough for you to eat ramen whenever you want. The remaining ninety percent is not yours to touch."
Naruto pouted, staring at the tabletop.
"You don't even come out that often… what do you need so much money for?"
"That is none of your concern," Lock replied coldly.
"Agree or don't. Those are your options."
Naruto hesitated for several seconds, then sighed deeply.
"…Fine. Fine, you win."
He waved his hand in defeat.
"As long as I can eat ramen every day, it's enough. I wouldn't even know what to do with more money anyway."
[Main Personality Trust / Dependency: 38%]
The slight drop in trust didn't bother Lock in the slightest.
Before eighty percent, everything was unstable by nature. Emotional fluctuations at this stage were meaningless.
"Hand over control," Lock said.
"An afternoon is sufficient to finish the remaining eighty thousand words."
Naruto blinked. "That fast?"
"With this body's physical foundation," Lock replied calmly,
"seven to eight characters per second is trivial."
Naruto swallowed.
"Oh."
Without further hesitation, he yielded control.
The scratching of pencil against paper filled the small room.
It was relentless.
Lock's posture was straight, his breathing steady. His hand moved with mechanical precision—no hesitation, no wasted motion. Scenes flowed seamlessly from his mind onto the page, each paragraph layered with intent, rhythm, and controlled tension.
Hours passed unnoticed.
By the time dusk crept through the window, the final line was written.
Lock set the pencil down.
Control returned.
Naruto blinked, stretching his stiff shoulders.
"…You're done already?"
He stared at the thick stack of manuscripts in disbelief.
"I didn't even get to enjoy watching…"
Lock ignored him and withdrew into the depths of the consciousness space, closing off his presence.
Mental exhaustion weighed on him more heavily than physical strain.
Naruto carefully gathered the manuscript, hugging it to his chest like a treasure.
"Well, if it's done, then I should eat!"
As promised, he headed straight for Ichiraku Ramen, planning to show Ayame the finished manuscript.
The following day passed quickly.
Registration, photographs, paperwork.
Naruto wasted no time embarrassing himself—painting patterns on his face during the photo session and proudly declaring it "artistic expression," earning himself a scolding and a forced retake.
Konohamaru showed up. Ebisu showed up. Chaos followed.
By the time night fell, Naruto collapsed into bed, utterly spent.
And when morning came, he woke early—for once.
The Ninja Academy was already crowded.
Students filled the classroom, voices overlapping in nervous excitement.
Naruto walked straight to his seat, stretching lazily.
His gaze immediately landed on Sasuke.
The boy sat stiffly, arms crossed, head lowered. A dense, oppressive mood surrounded him like a storm cloud.
Especially when he noticed Naruto.
That gloom deepened.
Naruto frowned. "What's with him…?"
To Naruto, it looked like Sasuke was just acting aloof again.
Sasuke, meanwhile, felt like his chest was being crushed.
Multiple Shadow Clones.
Defeated a Chunin.
Acknowledged by the Hokage.
Every thought gnawed at him.
Naruto muttered, "That guy really loves acting cool."
Sasuke's jaw tightened.
But for once, he said nothing.
He simply turned away.
Naruto blinked, surprised.
"…Huh."
Before he could dwell on it, Sakura entered the classroom.
Naruto straightened instantly, heart pounding.
This is it, he thought. I'm first place now. Things will change.
Sakura walked right past him.
And stopped beside Sasuke.
"Are you okay?" she asked with concern.
Naruto's smile cracked.
"…That annoying Sasuke."
Jealousy flared hot and fast.
Just as Naruto was about to start something, Iruka entered the room.
The chatter died instantly.
Iruka stood at the front, expression composed, eyes briefly lingering on Naruto before moving on.
"From today onward," he announced,
"you are all independent shinobi of Konohagakure."
After the usual speech, he unfolded the list.
"Now, I will announce the team assignments."
Naruto leaned forward.
"Team Seven," Iruka read aloud.
"Haruno Sakura. Uzumaki Naruto. Uchiha Sasuke."
The room exploded.
"What?!"
"No way!"
"That team's insane!"
Naruto froze.
Then processed it.
Then shouted internally.
WHY HIM?!
Sakura looked thrilled.
Sasuke stiffened, eyes dark.
Other teams followed.
"Team Eight: Hyuga Hinata, Aburame Shino, Inuzuka Kiba."
"Team Ten: Nara Shikamaru, Akimichi Choji, Yamanaka Ino."
Some students cheered. Others groaned.
Naruto slumped forward, resting his head on the desk.
"…This is the worst."
At the same time, inside the Hokage Tower—
Kakashi Hatake stood lazily, orange book in hand.
Kurenai Yuhi leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
Asuma Sarutobi exhaled smoke slowly.
All three faced Hiruzen Sarutobi, who watched the classroom scene through the crystal ball.
"Team Seven will be under Kakashi," Hiruzen said.
"Team Eight under Kurenai. Team Ten under Asuma."
He looked up.
"Any objections?"
Kurenai shook her head.
Asuma shrugged.
Kakashi raised his book slightly. "Nope."
Before Hiruzen could speak again, a voice echoed from the doorway.
"They don't object."
"But I do."
The room fell silent.
A figure stepped forward from the shadows, cane tapping softly against the floor.
"I do not agree," the man said calmly,
"to Kakashi Hatake leading Team Seven."
---
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