The rain in Amegakure never stopped.
It drummed constantly on the metal rooftops, a low, steady rhythm that followed Ryouhei Kurozawa wherever he went—like the village itself was whispering, you don't belong.
A week after his supply run, he stood in what was supposed to be a shop near the edge of the village. The place looked more like a condemned shed. The air reeked of rust and wet wood. A single lantern flickered overhead, casting a sickly light that made the shadows twitch.
Konan had given him this place. Said it was a chance to prove himself—as a "merchant," whatever that meant here.
He glanced around. Leaky roof. Crooked shelves. Crates filled with moldy herbs and half-broken tools.
"Perfect," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. His sneakers, still from his old life, squelched in a puddle on the floor.
Back home, he sold second-hand phones online. That was a hustle. This? This was survival. And failure wasn't just a bad review—Konan had made that clear. Her warning still echoed in his head: If you can't adapt, the rain will be the last thing you see.
So he started.
Cleaning. Sorting. Tossing anything too far gone. His arms ached, his cloak soaked through within the hour, but he kept going. Pride didn't matter. Survival did.
On the first morning, Hina stopped by.
She stepped inside with quick, sharp eyes and a permanent frown.
"This is what you've got?" she said, arms crossed.
Ryouhei nodded. "Yeah. For now."
She didn't look impressed. "Don't screw it up. Angel is watching."
He forced a smile. "I'll figure it out."
Truth was, he had no idea how to make it work. No money. No allies. No chakra. Just a bit of common sense and a lifetime of scraping by.
Hina handed him a worn ledger. "Inventory. See what's missing—and figure out how to get it."
She left without another word.
The ledger was chaos.
Half-legible numbers. Unclear orders. Prices marked up by desperate middlemen. No wonder the village was always short on medicine and food.
But Ryouhei saw the pattern: rushed, tiny shipments bleeding coin. Buying in bulk could stretch resources and drop prices. It wasn't flashy, but it could work.
By the second day, the shop looked less like a dump. He cleared out a corner and dragged in a battered table to use as a counter. He even found a few things worth salvaging.
That's when Goro showed up.
He leaned in the doorway, arms folded, rain dripping down his scarred face.
"Still breathing," he said, voice low.
"Trying to," Ryouhei replied, wiping sweat from his brow. "You here to check on me?"
"Angel told me to."
"Figures."
Goro glanced at the shelves. "You got anything useful yet?"
"Not yet. Still sorting. Trying to figure out what the village really needs."
Goro just grunted and walked out.
The villagers weren't welcoming.
They passed by in silence, hoods drawn, eyes averted. But he caught the glances—quick, judging. Heard the whispers behind closed doors. A stranger. A liability.
On the third day, a kid peeked in.
Skinny, maybe ten years old. Messy hair. Oversized cloak. He held a dull knife like it was a precious treasure.
"You the new guy?" the kid asked.
"Yeah," Ryouhei said, setting down a crate. "Name's Ryouhei."
"I'm Tetsu. I'm gonna be a ninja."
"Good luck with that," Ryouhei said with a tired smile. "Started training yet?"
Tetsu shrugged. "Sorta. They say I'm too weak. But I'm trying. Hey—have you seen Angel fight?"
"Once," Ryouhei said, remembering the paper knives. "Scariest thing I've ever seen."
Tetsu's eyes lit up. "She's amazing."
Then his voice dropped. "What's it like? Living here?"
Ryouhei paused. "Still figuring that out. You?"
Tetsu kicked at the floor. "It sucks. Always raining. Never enough food. My sister's sick all the time."
That hit harder than he expected.
"I'm… trying to get more supplies in," Ryouhei said.
"You can do that?" Tetsu asked, eyes wide.
"I'm gonna try."
Tetsu grinned. "I'll come back tomorrow!"
He bolted off before Ryouhei could respond.
Maybe that was the first real reason to stay.
By the end of the week, Ryouhei had a plan.
Buy in bulk from traders like Taro. Cut the waste. Save money. Get real supplies—food, medicine, stuff people actually needed.
When Hina came back, he laid it all out.
"We're bleeding coin on small orders," he said, holding out the ledger. "Look at this—herbs at twice the price, half the quantity. We buy bigger, we spend less in the long run."
Hina raised an eyebrow, flipping through the pages.
"You've only been here a few days and you're already trying to run things?"
"I'm just trying to fix what's broken," Ryouhei said. "Let me test one order. One shot. If it doesn't work, I'll step aside."
She studied him. Quiet. Careful. Then:
"You screw this up, it's on you. Not me. Not Angel."
"Understood."
She gave a short nod and walked off without another word.
That evening, the door opened again
Ryouhei turned—and froze.
Konan stood in the doorway.
Rain dripped off her cloak. Her hair was wet, plastered to her face. She looked around the shop with that same unreadable stare.
"Ryouhei Kurozawa," she said. "What've you done here?"
He stepped aside and motioned to the shelves.
"Cleaned the place. Sorted the stock. Checked the ledger. There's a lot of waste—bad orders, overpriced items. I've got an idea to fix it."
She walked in slowly, eyes scanning everything. Then:
"Tell me."
He explained.
How the village was losing money. How buying in bulk and negotiating better could make a difference.
It wasn't complicated—but it made sense. His voice started unsure, but grew steady as he laid it out.
She listened the whole time without saying a word.
When he finished, she looked at him and said,"You really think you can turn this around?"
He nodded."I think I can help. I'm not promising miracles. Just a better way."
She crossed her arms."If this doesn't work, no one's going to back you. You get one shot."
"I understand."
Konan looked at him a moment longer. Then said:
"People are already talking. You showed up from nowhere. They don't know what you are, and they don't like that."
Ryouhei held her gaze.
"Then I'll give them a reason to."
She gave a small nod.
"Good. Just don't waste my time."
Then, without another word, she stepped back into the rain. Her cloak fluttered behind her as she disappeared down the street.
Ryouhei let out a slow breath. The shop was still falling apart. The rain hadn't let up. But for the first time, he didn't feel completely out of place.