Running Some Errands

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Voltaire was walking down the dusty road on the outskirts of town, his injured but still functional hands concealed in his bulky gloves. As he approached the gates he heard the voice of a man shouting, "Ninja! Hey Ninja! Get your ass over here!" Voltaire was stunned by the disrespect, but the way that he was addressed made it very clear that this man was not a ninja and therefore it would have been very cruel for him to challenge him to the combat and subsequent ass whooping that he deserved. He had a tenuous grasp on morality, but he understood that it was his job to keep the civilians of the village alive no matter how much they deserved death, unless they committed a crime in which case he could make an arrest far too rough and be potentially awarded for it, but he was not planning on faking that. "The Kazekage said that he was sending some Genin to help deliver some ramen for me, that you?"

"Yes sure!" Voltaire lied. He was handed a large wicker basket full of ceramic bowls with ceramic lids. He was not given any bike or other method of transportation to get him around the village.

"You are a ninja, so I assume you can move fast!" Voltaire assumed that this man was slow in general. He was very overweight and very tall with a very flat face.

Voltaire thought about the joy that he would get as a surgeon turning down this tub of lard for not having taken care of his body before the clogging of his arteries, but he simply smiled and said, "Of course, Sir! Never doubt the Shinobi of Sunagakure no Sato! We are here to serve the country of the Wind! A little bit of running is no issue!" Voltaire found a bike outside of a residence down the street, stole it, made his deliveries as quickly as he possibly could, and then put the bicycle back where it was found before the owner could notice. The deliveries were all pretty boring. In fact, they were down right horrible! No matter how long he stood at the door with his hand out, none of them gave him a tip! It was truly shameful.

Spoiler:

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During his ramen deliveries he had seen a vegetable garden and decided to try his luck.
The farmer looked exhausted, burnt all up, and drowning in his own sweat. As he approached the garden he noticed that the sand had stopped being sand and somehow started to be dirt. This was an assigned mission that he hadn't been interested in, but he had been here so it would be a waste of potential money not to see if there was some easy work that needed to be done. As he would soon find out there was work to be done but it was not easy.

The man was elderly and frail, and farming in the desert required some special tasks that we would not have to do in somewhere like Konohagakure no Sato where those dumb bastards take the vast wealth of resources for granted. His feeble arms were working a shovel, trying to get to damaged irrigation pipe. Voltaire was impatient, so he took the shovel for him and dug until he got to the pipe.
The old man kept shouting that there was a leak, but one could not be found. Voltaire then looked over to the hoses that the man had buried to put a constant stream of water into the soil. They were all turned off. Voltaire turned it on, said he fixed the leak, harvested some stupid blue berries, and left with his reward.

Spoiler:

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Voltaire had one more piece of what he had to imagine was just busy work before he could just be done with the day, though three missions in a single day was probably not bad for a Genin. He wasn't sure, he did not have any friends in the class he graduated with, or any of the classes that graduated without him, or any friends at all actually. So, he did not have a reference point for what was a normal amount of missions to do in a day or a week or whatever.

The last one of the day was to find some old bag's missing locket. He had just shown up at the door to find her standing inside, waiting for him and sobbing like a petulant child. "Are you here to help me find my missing locket?" she asked between crying fits. Voltaire nodded, trying with only meager success to hide his disgust with the creature before him. He looked for about twenty minutes, moving some of the lighter furniture even. "Could you at least tell me what it looks like?" he asked, failing even more miserably now to hide his distaste for his current situation.

She nodded enthusiastically and pulled a locket from her pocket. "It looks just like this!"

Voltaire took it from her and then asked, "Is this your locket?" Voltaire was given great praise, an unsolicited and greatly unwanted hug, and then went on his way with his reward, mumbling about how at some point there was definitely a potent argument to be made about a maximum age and removal from the population when it was passed.

Spoiler:

» Running in the Ramen