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In a cramped office room inside the Library's office, a group of men and women sat slumped around a table, a towering stack of papers threatening to spill over the edge. Dark circles, wrinkled clothes, and half-empty coffee mugs.
"Trash... What's next?" Akari muttered, dropping a stapled draft onto the growing reject pile. She barely had the energy to keep her eyes open.
They'd been drowning in story submissions for weeks now, barely catching a break. Sure, they got a day off here and there, but it wasn't nearly enough to recover from the endless submissions.
The whole reason they started this "Writathon" in the first place was to scrape together some funds for the library. It wasn't exactly a hot spot in the village, barely anyone ever came here. And that was a problem because the village council wasn't about to keep funding a place no one used. Fewer visitors meant less monthly funds, and if things kept up like this, they'd probably be shut down for good.
Compared to the Shinobi Archives, where you could find jutsu scrolls and everything else needed to get stronger, the regular library was just… books.
The Writathon was supposed to change that, bring in attention, maybe even make the library seem useful again. What they hadn't expected was the flood of submissions. The high reward fee and getting their work published must've drawn in every wannabe writer in the village. Now, they were stuck sorting through an overwhelming mess of stories, and the exhaustion was starting to set in.
But so far, nothing stood out. Most of the stories followed the same generic plot, some overpowered shinobi saving the world with no real depth, just quick fights and empty wins. There was no real motivation behind the characters, nothing that made you care. Just page after page of the same predictable plots, recycled again and again.
Akari sighed, rubbing her temples. "At this rate, we might as well just throw darts at the pile and pick a winner that way." she grumbled beneath her breath.
An older librarian shuffled over and dropped a stapled draft in front of Akari with a tired grunt. "Almost got buried under the junk pile."
Akari barely glanced at it before adjusting her glasses. Kaito.
She clicked her tongue. That kid.
She didn't know much about him, but he stood out. Not because he was loud or obnoxious like most brats, but because he was… odd. A little too quiet. A little too put together. She only remembered him because he had checked out books that were far beyond his level, things a kid his age shouldn't have been able to read, let alone understand. But he never asked questions. Just took the books and left...
Still, that didn't mean his writing would be any good. She sighed, expecting the usual half-baked nonsense, and flipped open the first page.
Her eyes moved over the words, slow at first, but then...her brow twitched. Her fingers gripped the pages a little tighter. The usual boredom in her eyes shifted into something else. By the time she was a few pages in, she wasn't just reading...she was absorbed.
"…This might be the best one I've read so far."
Silence.
A few heads turned. A woman who had been slumped against the table lifted her head slightly. One of the men, who looked like he was about to fall asleep, actually sat up straight.
"You serious?" One of them asked, skeptical.
Akari didn't even look up, flipping to the next page, a rare wrinkly smile tugging at her lips. "Dead serious."
This was good news. They'd been at this for nearly two months now, and with only a few days left until the writathon ended, they needed to pick a winner.
And maybe they just found the one.
Akari still flipping through the pages, then spun her chair around with a small push of her foot. Her eyes landed on a boy sitting in the corner, completely detached from the rest of the group. With a comic book held up to his face, and a very clear I don't care about any of you aura surrounding him.
"Hitomaru."
No response. The boy lazily turned a page, still lost in whatever ridiculous story he was reading.
Akari sighed. "Hitomaru."
Still nothing.
Her fingers curled around the nearest object—a pencil—before she threw it across the room.
Thunk.
"Ow!"
Hitomaru groaned, rubbing the side of his head where the pencil had smacked him. He shot her a glare from over his book. "What the hell, old hag?"
Akari just crossed her arms. "Go get the information sheet for Kaito."
Hitomaru scowled, slouching deeper into his seat. "Why me?"
"Because I said so."
He let out an exaggerated sigh but dragged himself up anyway, muttering under his breath as he trudged off. "Geez, abuse of power…"
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Kaito balanced on his fingertips with his legs up in the air, his body perfectly straight as he lowered himself down and pushed back up. His arms burned, his shoulders screamed, but he kept going. The strain was the whole point. If it didn't hurt, it wasn't working.
He wasn't just doing regular handstand push-ups, he was on his fingertips, forcing his grip strength, balance, and endurance to improve all at once.
" Fifty… fifty-one… fifty-two… "
The wooden floor creaked under his weight. His fingers dug in. His core tightened to keep himself steady.
" Seventy-three… seventy-four… "
A bead of sweat rolled down his nose and hit the floor.
So far a month and a half had passed, and Kaito's training had only gotten more brutal. His old training methods stopped giving results, so he had no choice but to make things harder for himself, almost absurdly so.
What used to be a hundred push-ups became a thousand. Sit-ups? He lost count. Running? He pushed himself past exhaustion, forcing his legs to move until they burned so badly they nearly gave out under him.
He finished his final rep, arms shaking, and let himself drop. His body hit the floor with a dull thud, his chest rising and falling as he sucked in air like he'd been drowning a second ago. For a moment, he just lay there, staring at the ceiling, sweat dripping down his temples. His heart pounded in his ears.
After what felt like forever, he forced himself up, legs wobbling as he made his way to his bag. He grabbed his canteen, uncapped it, and took a long, deep drink, the cool water sliding down his throat. Some of it spilled down his chin, but he didn't care.
Grabbing a towel, he ran it over his face and neck, wiping away the sweat. Kaito exhaled, rolling out his shoulders. ' Alright… What's next? '
Kaito had been in the Naruto verse for about four months now. At first, he had a solid plan, but he ended up blowing past his own expectations way faster than he thought.
Now? His days were spent just training, more training, and even more training. Not that he minded, but after a while, doing the same thing over and over got tiring. Maybe he deserved a break.
Too bad he was broke.
Kaito grabbed a shirt from the nearby chair, but before putting it on, he caught a glimpse of himself in the small mirror by the wall. His body had changed a lot over the past few months—his arms were more defined and bigger, his shoulders broader, and now he had a solid six pack. He wasn't bulky, but for his age, he was definitely built. Maybe a little too much.
Not that it mattered. He was getting stronger anyway.
KNOCK KNOCK
The sudden knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
Kaito frowned, wondering who it could be. He wasn't expecting anyone today. His first guess was Hitori, but when he pulled the door open, it wasn't him standing there.
Instead, an older woman greeted him, dressed in a white skirt with a black blouse neatly tucked in, a matching jacket draped over her shoulders.A bag hung over her right shoulder, swaying slightly as she moved. The glasses perched on her nose gave her a sharp, professional look, though he recognized her almost immediately.
She was the lady from the library. The one at the checkout desk.
"I'm Akari," she introduced herself with a polite nod. "Not sure if you remember me, but I work at the library."
Kaito blinked, surprised. "Uh… this about the writing contest?"
Akari smiled. "Yes, actually."
That got his interest. He stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in. "Well, I don't have any chairs, so you'll have to sit on the floor."
Akari let out a small chuckle. "That's fine." But as she stepped inside, she gave the place a once-over, taking in the small, nearly empty apartment. There wasn't much to see just a bed, a table, a couple of shelves with some books, and a small worn down kitchen. After a moment, she turned to him with a curious expression.
"Where are your parents?" she asked.
Kaito didn't hesitate. "Don't have any." His tone was blunt, matter-of-fact. Then, without missing a beat, he sat down on the floor and looked at her expectantly. "So, what's this about?"
Akari's lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but she stopped herself. Instead, she gave a small cough into her fist, smoothing out her skirt as she took a seat across from him.
"Right," she said, regaining her composure. "Let's get straight to business."
Akari adjusted her glasses, then reached into her bag, pulling out a neatly stacked set of papers. She then placed the papers on the table between them. "Well, first things first...you won the contest."
Kaito barely reacted. He just shrugged. "Figured."
That made her pause. She had expected at least some excitement, but his confidence threw her off. Not that it was a bad thing...just unusual. Even most grown adults would be jumping around the room with excitement. But she didn't comment on it and moved on.
"As the winner, you'll be receiving the rewards promised," she continued.
Kaito gave a satisfied nod. "Sounds good."
Akari then slid the stack of papers toward him. "Now, this is the publishing contract." She tapped the top page. "Since your work won, we'll be publishing it under the library's ownership. However, you'll receive royalties based on sales."
Kaito picked up the first page, skimming it while she talked.
"For every sale, you'll get seventy percent of the profits, while we take thirty percent for printing, distribution, and general handling." Her tone was all business now, breaking things down clearly since he was still a "little kid".
Kaito nodded along, absorbing the information, but then he set the paper down. "Can my name not be on the cover? Or at least use a fake name?"
He chose a fake name for the reason he didn't want to be recognized. Fame didn't matter to him. He just needed the money. Recognition came with attention, and attention brought problems. He wasn't interested in people asking him questions or expecting things from him. The less people knew, the better.
Akari blinked. "You don't want recognition?"
"Nope."
She sighed, rubbing her temple for a moment before relenting. "Fine. You can use a pen name. What do you want it to be?"
Kaito leaned back, thinking for a second. Then he smirked. "FictionGoat."
Akari raised a brow at the odd choice but didn't question it. "Alright. FictionGoat it is." She made a note on the papers, then cleared her throat and continued. "One last thing...if you agree to this contract, you'll need to submit a minimum of thirty chapters per month."
Kaito sighed, already thinking about the workload. "Thirty, huh? That's doable." Shrugging, he picked up the pen and started signing.
Akari watched, a small, satisfied smile on her face. "Good. Once everything's processed, your payment will be transferred into your account in a few days."
Kaito finished the last signature, then handed the papers back. "Sounds good."
Akari neatly gathered the signed papers, tapping them against the table to align them before slipping them back into her bag. "Alright, that about wraps things up," she said, standing up and adjusting her jacket.
Kaito stretched his arms over his head, feeling a bit relieved that things didn't drag on longer than necessary. "Cool. Guess I'll be hearing from you soon, then."
Akari gave a small nod, but before heading to the door, she glanced around the apartment once more. The emptiness of the place seemed to bother her, but she didn't comment on it. With that, Akari left, closing the door behind her. The room fell back into silence.
Kaito ran a hand over the back of his neck with a sigh. "Well… that happened," he muttered. Then, slowly, a grin crept onto his face.
Maybe he could finally take that break after all.
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