Ryouhei Kurozawa leaned back as Kenta's footsteps faded into the rainy street. A pouch of coins sat on the counter, heavier than it looked.
Twenty bars of soap in four days. Not bad. But he still needed more fat, more lye, and for Tetsu to stop messing around.
The kid was holding a soap bar like it was gold, grinning like he'd just learned a cool jutsu.
"Fifty next time!" Tetsu shouted, jumping off a crate. "You're gonna rule the market, Ryouhei!"
"Slow down," Ryouhei said, rubbing the back of his sore neck. "We're barely getting by. I need you working, not dreaming." He pointed to the back room. "Go check the lye. Don't touch it."
Tetsu gave a quick salute. "Yes, boss!" and ran off.
The shop smelled like mint and fennel—fresh, even though the rain had left the walls damp and musty. Rough soap bars lined the shelves, traded for carrots, scraps of cloth, even a rusty kunai from a ninja who said it "cut the barracks stink."
Ryouhei was trying out a new mix with yarrow—good for cuts. If the medics liked it, maybe he could finally make steady money. But supplies were running low.
Fat was almost gone, and Soma, the herb seller, kept raising prices and muttering about "outsiders." Ryouhei had heard him badmouthing him just yesterday.
He opened his ledger and wrote:
Kenta: 20 bars, 4 days. Need: 2 lbs fat, 1 lb lye. Yarrow batch — test tomorrow.
The numbers looked okay. But one bad trade could ruin everything.
In Amegakure, one mistake could cost you more than just coin. The rain tapping on the roof reminded him of that.
The door creaked.
Ryouhei looked up, expecting Tetsu's friends.
But it wasn't them.
Konan stepped inside. Her blue hair was wet, and her cloak dripped onto the floor.
She didn't say anything right away. Her orange eyes scanned the shelves—rows of soap, herbs hanging on strings.
"Ryouhei," she said.
He straightened a little. "Ma'am."
She looked around the small shop. "How are things?"
He blinked, surprised by the question. "Getting by," he said. "Doing what I can."
Her eyes moved to the shelves again.
"These?" she asked, picking up a bar. "What are they?"
"Soap," Ryouhei said, wiping his hands. "I made them here."
She smelled the bar. "Mint?"
"Mint and fennel. I use whatever I can find."
"You sell them?"
"Yeah. People like them." He kept his voice calm. "Cleaner than the junk in the market, and cheaper too."
Konan raised an eyebrow. "Soap isn't easy to get here."
"Exactly," he said. "But if you know how to make it, it's not too hard."
She didn't say anything for a moment. Her fingers brushed a bar with bits of herb in it.
"What's this one?"
"Yarrow. Good for cuts. The medics said it works."
She nodded slightly, then set the bar back and looked at him.
"You figured this out on your own?"
"Mostly. Saw a butcher mix fat and ash once. Just figured it out from there."
She gave a quiet cough into her sleeve, then looked back up.
"You figured this out on your own?" she asked again, this time softer.
Ryouhei nodded. "Yeah. Took some trial and error. Burns a bit if you mess it up."
She turned the bar in her hand again, then set it down.
"It's useful," she said.
Ryouhei hesitated. Then he stepped around the counter, wiping his hands on his apron, and went to a small wooden box behind the shelf.
"I, uh… made a special batch. Different from the rest." He opened the lid and looked at her. "Best I've made. Mint, chamomile, and crushed lotus. Cleans almost perfectly—like, ninety-nine percent."
She raised an eyebrow.
He picked up the bar and held it out. It was wrapped nicely, with paper and string.
"Made it for you," he said. "Thought maybe you'd like it. It's for bathing—gentle on the skin. Smells good too."
She looked at the bar, then at him.
"You made this for me?" she asked, voice flat.
Ryouhei scratched his neck. "Yeah. I mean, I wasn't trying to be weird or anything. Just thought… you'd like something better than what's out there."
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then she stepped forward and took the bar. Her fingers brushed his as she did.
"I'll try it," she said quietly.
Then she turned and walked out. The door creaked shut behind her, and the rain swallowed the sound.
Ryouhei stood still, hand halfway raised. He let out a slow breath.
Not sure if that went great… but it didn't go bad either.
He looked down at the open box, at the space where the bar had been.
Rain tapped softly on the roof. The shop was quiet again.
"Step one," he muttered, closing the box. "Not bad."
He knew Konan wasn't someone who could be impressed easily. Soap wouldn't win her over. But she took it. That meant something.
She didn't ignore him. She didn't walk in just to give orders.
She came. Talked. Took what he made.
That was something.
He ran a hand through his still-damp hair, then sat back down. He pulled the ledger closer and added a new line.
Special: Konan bar — mint, chamomile, lotus.
He tapped the pencil on the page, a small smile forming.
Tetsu peeked out from the back, holding a bucket. "Is she gone?"
"Yeah."
"Did she say anything cool? Like ninja stuff?"
Ryouhei shook his head. "No ninja stuff."
Tetsu frowned. "Lame."
But Ryouhei didn't mind.
He leaned back in his chair again, arms crossed, eyes on the rain.
Maybe, if he stayed useful—kept quiet, did good work—he could earn more than just money here.
Maybe even her trust.
Maybe… even more.