The rain had eased to a light drizzle, but Amegakure's streets still glistened with water and mud. Ryouhei Kurozawa stood at the village gate, his backpack heavy with soap bars, waterproof wraps, and a few decks of War cards.
His cloak was dry, though worn and patched, and hung loosely over his shoulders. The air smelled like rust and wet earth. The gray sky hinted at more rain.
Kaede leaned against a post nearby. Her short black hair was damp, and her sharp eyes scanned the road ahead. Her kunai pouch was strapped to her thigh, and her Hidden Rain headband caught the light. She hadn't said a word since they met at dawn, but her presence meant Ryouhei was guarded.
Haru, a merchant with a fox-like grin, adjusted his straw hat beneath a plastic hood. His two carts creaked as his guards checked the ropes. "Ready, soap man?" he called, his tone cheerful.
Ryouhei shifted his pack and nodded. "Yea."
From the shop doorway, Tetsu waved, his large apron flapping. "Bring back something cool, boss!"
"Don't burn the shop down," Ryouhei replied with a faint smile. He looked at Kaede. She nodded once, and they headed out.
The road to Grass Village was slow and muddy. Rain picked up by noon. Haru's guards, all rough-looking men with scars, stayed alert. Kaede moved quietly, sometimes disappearing into the mist and reappearing without warning.
Ryouhei's legs hurt, but he kept up. He clutched his pack to keep it dry. Haru walked beside him, chatting about trade and bandits. "That ridge up ahead's risky," he said, pointing to a narrow rocky path. "Easy place for an ambush."
"Wonderful," Ryouhei muttered, wiping rain from his face. "Any advice?"
"Don't look rich," Haru replied with a grin. "You're good."
Kaede's voice cut through the rain. "Quiet." She crouched, hand on her kunai, eyes locked on the fog. The guards froze. Ryouhei's heart pounded as he looked where she stared. A faint glint of metal shone through the trees.
"Bandits?" Haru whispered.
"Worse," Kaede said. "Stay low."
Ryouhei felt panic. No chakra. No real weapons. But he'd faced danger before.
He scanned the ground and spotted a shallow ditch. "Haru," he whispered, "move the carts left—slowly. There's cover."
Haru hesitated, then signaled. The carts rolled toward the ditch, wheels sinking into the wet ground. Kaede gave Ryouhei a quick glance, then vanished into the mist.
A moment later, a shuriken struck a cart. Three shinobi appeared, blades drawn. Haru's guards shouted and drew swords, but the attackers were fast.
Ryouhei ducked behind a cart, breathing hard. He wasn't a fighter—but he could think. The shinobi were after the guards, not the goods. He pulled a waterproof wrap from his pack, smeared it with mud, and tossed it out like a dropped item.
"The goods!" he shouted.
One attacker paused, eyes on the fake bundle. It was enough. Kaede struck from behind. The shinobi dropped, blood mixing with mud. The other two turned, but Haru's guards fought back. Kaede moved quickly, striking with precision. Within moments, the attackers fled.
Kaede wiped her blade and looked at Ryouhei. "That was reckless."
"It worked," he said, rising with shaking hands. "Split their focus."
She stared for a moment, then snorted. "Don't make it a habit."
Haru clapped him on the shoulder. "Not bad, soap man. Quick thinking."
Ryouhei forced a smile, then noticed something. He knelt and picked up a kunai. The handle had a faint symbol—a coiled snake. Not a normal bandit mark. He quietly slipped it into his pack.
Grass Village was different from Amegakure. Green hills surrounded it, and bamboo groves swayed in the wind. The streets were dry dirt, cleaner than the muddy alleys back home. The air smelled like grass and smoke. Local shinobi walked openly, their headbands marked with a blade of grass.
Ryouhei set up his stall near the market. He spread out wraps, soap bars, and a deck of cards on a waxed cloth. Haru introduced him to a thin trader named Yuna. She eyed his goods with suspicion. "Amegakure, huh?" she said, sniffing a bamboo-scented soap. "Not exactly a name I trust."
"These work," Ryouhei said, holding up a wrap. He poured water over it, letting it slide off. "Keeps scrolls and tools dry. The soap's better than the usual stuff."
Yuna raised a brow, rubbing the soap between her fingers. "Not bad. Price?"
Ryouhei showed his ledger and pointed to bulk deals. "Buy ten, get two free. I'll keep supplies steady."
She bargained hard, but he stayed calm. After some time, they agreed—twenty wraps, fifteen soaps, and a future deal for bamboo mats. She tossed him dried plums as a bonus.
Later, more locals came. A farmer traded rice for a wrap to cover his tools. A mother bought soap for her sick son, saying, "Medicine's hard to find. Maybe this'll help." Ryouhei packed it carefully. He thought of Tetsu's sister.
A tall Grass shinobi stopped at the stall. A scar marked his cheek. He picked up a fireproof wrap. "This hold up in battle?" he asked.
"Tested it myself," Ryouhei said. "Doesn't burn easy. Good for sealing tools."
The shinobi nodded, eyes on Ryouhei's cloak. "Amegakure has a reputation."
"I'm just a merchant," Ryouhei replied calmly. "I sell what works."
The shinobi bought three wraps and walked off. But his words stuck. Ryouhei glanced across the street. Kaede stood watching in the shadows. She hadn't stepped in—but he knew she was close.
That evening, Ryouhei joined Haru's crew under a bamboo awning for a game of War. The guards laughed, flipping cards and betting dried fish. A small crowd watched. Ryouhei handed a deck to a curious boy. "Tell your friends," he said.
By nightfall, he'd traded two decks for a basket of dried bamboo shoots.