Orange streetlight sliced through the blinds, painting the walls in broken streaks. Steven slumped against the headboard, the bed's springs creaking like they held a grudge. His chat panel's glow burned shadows into his face. Outside, Brooklyn thrummed—car horns, a drunk yelling, some dog snarling at nothing.
[Ding.]
Another ping. Not Tsunade again. He tapped the screen, jaw tight.
[GodWannabe: Admin_Tarnished, you run this chat, yeah? What's your world like?]
Nosy prick. Steven didn't owe him a life story. Keep it vague, no cracks.
[Admin_Tarnished: City. Loud. Too much light to see stars.]
A creak cut through—diner door swinging open. Air rushed in, cool and sharp, dragging in a guy built like a tank. Bald, leather jacket, maybe mid-40s. His eyes scanned the room, clocking exits, pausing on Steven just long enough to register. Then he moved on.
"Coffee. Black," he told Bev, voice rough as asphalt. He dropped into a booth two over, vinyl groaning.
Steven's fingers tapped his mug. He waited, then stood, steps easy. "Rico?" he said, like he was just tossing a guess. "Maria sent me. Mentioned a spot on Wyckoff."
Rico's head tipped, eyes narrowing. "Maria? You?"
"Steven." He slid into the booth, smooth, like he belonged. "She said you've got a room. Low-key. No hassle."
Rico drank, steam rising, stare locked. "Cash?"
"Cash. No ID. No noise."
A grunt. "One room. Shared bath. Six hundred. First and last now. No parties. No surprises."
"Works," Steven said, leaning back.
"When?"
"Tonight, if it's free."
Rico's eyes bored in, like he could peel Steven apart. "Alright. After this. But Maria's vouch doesn't make us family. I'll be watching."
Steven nodded. Done.
[Ding.]
A buzz hit his head, sharp like a pinched nerve. Probably some dumb system alert—skill bump, chat ping. He ignored it. No time for distractions.
"So," he said, voice light, "what's the area like?"
"Quiet. Bodegas, couple bars. Avoid alleys after dark." Rico's words came clipped, already half-gone.
Steven followed him out, diner's warmth giving way to the night's edge. Cars rumbled, someone cursed over a parking spot. The system panel flickered in his vision, unopened, nagging. Not now.
Rico's place was a squat three-story, bricks weathered like they'd lost a war. Rusty railings twisted like old scars. Rico lit a cigarette, its glow flaring as he exhaled into the dusk. Steven kept pace, hands in pockets. Silence worked—less chance to trip up.
The stairs groaned underfoot, each step daring them to fall through. Second floor. Room 2B. Rico jammed a key in, shoved the door wide. "Basic," he said, flat. "Clean."
He wasn't wrong. A bed that'd fight back, a dresser with a drawer that wouldn't budge, a window staring at a brick wall. No bugs, no filth.
Steven nodded. "It'll do."
Rico held out a hand. "Twelve hundred."
Steven unzipped his backpack—cash heavy, gun untouched since Shiganshina. He counted out the bills, crisp, tight, and handed them over.
"Screw up, you're gone," Rico said, pocketing the stack.
"Got it."
Rico lingered at the door. "Water pressure sucks. Live with it." He left, lock clicking.
Steven exhaled, dropping onto the bed. It screeched, springs digging into his back. The ceiling stared back, cracked like a bad promise. He sat up. The system panel blinked, demanding a look.
He opened it. New messages.
[5th_Hokage: So, Admin_Tarnished, what's your real name?]
[GodWannabe: Yeah, you keep dodging that.]
A smirk twitched his mouth. Pushy pair.
[Admin_Tarnished: I'm the guy keeping this mess from imploding. Name's not the point.]
Seconds ticked.
[GodWannabe: C'mon. First name, at least.]
Steven's thumb paused, half-entertained. Not that easy.
[Admin_Tarnished: You're fishing, but you haven't even dropped your own name.]
[GodWannabe: I'm not the one in charge.]
[Admin_Tarnished: And I'm not spilling for some random handle.]
Tsunade jumped in.
[5th_Hokage: Fine, I'll go first. I'm—]
His fingers moved fast.
[Admin_Tarnished: Stop. Don't.]
Her typing—dot-dot-dot—halted.
[5th_Hokage: …Okay, buzzkill.]
Steven's shoulders eased. Too close.
[GodWannabe: What's the twitch, Admin? Hiding something?]
[Admin_Tarnished: Not twitchy. Just not stupid enough to trust a guy asking too many questions.]
[GodWannabe: Fair. But power means you don't need to hide.]
[Admin_Tarnished: Power doesn't mean I owe you my life story.]
The chat went still. Steven could almost feel GodWannabe's eyes, cold and sharp through the screen. He shut the panel and leaned toward the window. A breeze carried sirens, someone yelling at their cat down the street.
"Nope," he muttered. "You get zip."
The room quieted, silence settling like dust. He rubbed his jaw, thoughts turning. Tsunade's world—he needed to pin it down. If he could place her in Naruto's timeline, he'd know what she could bring: jutsu, intel, maybe gear better than the salve he'd tucked away.
Was she new as Hokage, with Naruto still a loudmouth genin, or later, griping about Boruto's stunts? System tagged her "5th_Hokage," so she'd hit the title, but that could mean day one or years in.
"System," he said, voice low, walls probably thin as cardboard. "Timeline check on 5th_Hokage's world. Where's she at?"
[Ding.]
[Processing… User "5th_Hokage" context: Mentions Hokage duties, sake habits, Jiraiya gone, Shizune nearby. Data points: Tsunade takes 5th post-Search arc, pre-Shippuden. No Boruto mentions. Estimate: Naruto timeline, 200-202, early Hokage, pre-Time Skip. Need more for accuracy.]
Steven nodded, chewing his lip. "Early, then. Naruto's probably still screwing up D-ranks with Kakashi's squad, right?" He pictured it—Tsunade drowning in scrolls, itching for a drink, while Naruto bumbled through missions or tangled with Orochimaru's crew. No village-wrecking fights yet. No Pain. Her world was steady, and she'd have goods to trade without being buried. Solid.
He opened the chat, fingers poised. A light prod at Tsunade, nothing pushy, just enough to dig deeper. He typed, keeping it smooth.
The bed creaked as he shifted, Brooklyn's noise—some guy ranting about pizza—blending with the hum outside. His backpack sagged against the wall, gun and cash still inside.
[Ding.]
The chime cut like a snapped wire. He flinched, pulse spiking. "Seriously?" he muttered, glaring at the panel.
[New Member Joined: "RedHairedDevil"]
His breath caught. Now who the hell's this?