"The mind is everything. What you think you beco."
— Buddha
--
The morning sun spilled over the forests beyond Konoha, painting everything in soft gold. Birds chattered, leaves swayed, and sowhere in the distance, soone was hamring away at training dummies.
And then there was Otis, seated cross-legged on top of a massive earthen pillar that pierced the sky like so ridiculous monunt. The thing had to be at least fifty feet tall.
"Peace… is not found," Otis murmured, eyes closed. "It's built… one breath at a ti… power is peace… no, that sounds stupid. Maybe peace is when you stop wanting to punch soone…."
He mumbled to himself, trying to sound enlightened but failing miserably.
He cracked one eye open, sighed, and muttered to himself, "That last part didn't sound enlightened at all."
The wind brushed past him again, carrying the sll of river mist and pine. He inhaled deeply, everything was almost serene—until a shadow flickered at the base of the pillar.
An ANBU operative stood below, tilting his head back to see the absurd height. He looked left, then right, then up at the towering pillar.
He finally muttered, voice dry through the mask, "Ah, shit. Not again."
He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Otis! Hokage-sama has summoned you!"
No response.
The wind blew. A leaf fell. Sowhere a frog croaked.
"...Otis?"
Still nothing.
Otis kept sitting perfectly still, pretending not to notice.
The ANBU sighed, the long, heavy sigh of a man who knew this wasn't the first ti. He placed a hand on the pillar and started climbing using chakra on his feet, muttering sothing about how this job wasn't in the description.
Halfway up, he paused, looked down, then up again, and quietly questioned his life choices.
"I trained for years in the most elite black-ops unit of the village… and now I'm climbing dirt to talk to a lunatic."
"Otis," the ANBU said flatly, landing on the edge of the pillar. "The Hokage requests your presence."
Otis opened his eyes, squinting at the masked man. "You could've just called from below, you know. Sound carries well up here."
The ANBU just stared, expression unreadable behind his mask. His voice was perfectly calm but had the weight of soone who'd been through this before.
"I tried that before. You didn't respond."
Otis tilted his head, feigning thought. "Ah. Must've been inner peace blocking my hearing again."
"Inner peace," the ANBU repeated. "Right."
Otis stood up, stretching his arms like soone who'd just achieved spiritual clarity — or a good nap. The morning light hit his figure, shirt loose, hair ssy, muscles tensed beneath the calm.
"Don't give that tone. I'm trying to perfect my Earth Release. Stability of mind is the stability of structure, you know?"
The ANBU didn't respond.
Otis yawned, stretching until his shoulders cracked.
Funny thing — it was supposed to be a simple exercise, he mused. Then I realized… snipers love their high ground. So why not ? A better view ans fewer misses. Simple math.
"for the stability of mind, I thought, why not make a pillar?" Otis said, tapping his temple. "So now I ditate here. Kills two birds with one boulder."
The ANBU just stared at him for a long, silent mont.
"…You do realize," he finally said, "that most people just sit under a tree."
Otis grinned. "Yeah, but they don't get the view."
Without another word, he clapped his hands together. The pillar trembled beneath them with a deep rumble, slowly lowering itself back into the ground as if lting. The ANBU crossed his arms, unimpressed, as the world sank around them until their feet touched the soft grass again. He'd seen it before, it wasn't new to him.
Otis brushed off his pants and looked up at the morning sky.
The ANBU still had his arms crossed. "You could've done that earlier."
Otis shrugged. "But then you wouldn't have gotten your morning exercise. I'm helping you stay fit, man. Be grateful."
If looks could kill, the ANBU's mask would've cracked from sheer annoyance.
"Alright then. Hokage's office?"
"Yes," the ANBU said, tone clipped.
"Lead the way, Masky."
"…Don't call that."
The ANBU exhaled through his nose, barely audible
Behind them, the massive stone pillar sank completely into the earth, as if it had never existed, leaving only a perfectly circular imprint in the grass.
The birds went back to singing.
As they walked through the streets of Konoha, people turned to watch. Otis wasn't exactly a common sight in the village. He didn't dress like a typical ninja, but the villagers knew him, the tall, slightly insane guy who lived by the river.
By the ti they reached the Hokage's building, Otis was already bored. The entire walk, he'd been talking — mostly to himself, but loud enough that the ANBU couldn't escape it.
"I've been thinking," Otis began, "if you could mix Earth and Wind Release, could you make sand without going to the desert? Because that'd be kinda useful. Imagine creating a beach anywhere you want."
The ANBU ignored him.
Otis continued, unfazed. "Like—boom! Instant vacation spot. I could make a beach behind my hut, and call it 'The Otis Resort.'"
Still silence.
"Man, you're no fun," Otis muttered.
***
The Hokage's office always slled faintly of paper and smoke. Scrolls were stacked in neat disorder, sunlight filtered through the blinds, and sowhere in the corner, a kettle let out a low hiss.
Otis sat cross-legged across from Hiruzen Sarutobi, his huge fra dwarfing the small wooden chair that creaked in protest under his weight. He looked strangely peaceful, as if ditating in the middle of this eting.
Hiruzen exhaled a long plu of smoke from his pipe, eyes half-lidded behind his glasses.
"Otis… after reviewing your progress and performance, the council has agreed. As of today—you are officially promoted to Jōnin."
Otis blinked once, expression unreadable. "...Neat."
Hiruzen arched an eyebrow.
"…You could at least act surprised."
"Surprise ruins inner peace," Otis muttered in a low voice, like so monk.
Hiruzen set his pipe down, leaning slightly forward
"Right. Well, I have… another matter to discuss. A proposal, if you will."
Otis tilted his head, already suspicious. "No."
Hiruzen blinked. "You haven't even heard the details."
Otis's tone didn't change. "That tone usually ans trouble."
Hiruzen smiled faintly.
"Not trouble. Opportunity. How would you feel about instructing students at the Ninja Academy?"
The air went still.
Otis stared at him like he'd just been asked to juggle babies. Finally, he muttered slowly,
"Hey, old man—did you smoke sothing bad?"
Hiruzen remained perfectly calm.
Otis blinked, then leaned forward slightly, incredulous. "You want … to teach kids?"
"Yes."
Otis leaned back. "I see. So either you've finally lost your mind, or you're trying to punish for sothing."
Hiruzen smiled, the way only an experienced manipulator of young n could. "Think of it as sharing your wisdom."
"I don't have wisdom. I have bad sleep habits and a deep mistrust of children."
"Exactly why you're perfect," Hiruzen said dryly.
Otis pointed at himself. "Old man, I live by a river and talk to frogs. You think I'm teacher material?"
"Frogs can be excellent listeners, you know," Hiruzen said calmly.
Otis rubbed his face. "You're not letting this go, are you?"
Hiruzen folded his hands. "Not quite yet."
"Look, Hokage-sama, I don't have ti for this. I've got my own training—"
"And a reputation for throwing boulders at trees," Hiruzen interrupted. "Don't pretend you're too busy building mud towers. And small mud houses — you are so free that you either play with mud like a little kid or spar with Guy and Maruboshi."
Otis frowned. "It was ART."
"Now, now," Hiruzen said in that careful, diplomatic tone that always ca before a trap.
"It's nothing too demanding. You'd only handle the final-year students — physical and practical training. You can think of it as instructing them part-ti. And your thods might… toughen them up."
"My thods might break them," Otis muttered.
Hiruzen's smile didn't falter. "I couldn't ask for more. That's part of the learning experience."
Otis leaned back with a sigh. "I really don't have ti for this, old man. I've got training, missions, ditation… a bear to feed."
He reached under his pile of paperwork, pulled out a small slip of parchnt, and gently slid it across the desk toward Otis.
"Before you refuse, at least look at the number."
Otis glanced at it, not touching. "What's this?"
"Your salary. For instructing them."
Otis eyed the slip suspiciously, like it might bite. "I'm not interested in—"
His voice died mid-sentence as his eyes fell on the number. For a second, his pupils dilated, his jaw slackened slightly. He blinked once… twice… and then froze, staring at the number as if his brain had montarily shut down.
Hiruzen smirked silently. 'Gotcha.'
(Pic)
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