Haikawa Port — a bustling harbor city on the western coast of the Land of Water.
Its proximity to the Land of Fire made it a hub for merchants, politicians, and pleasure-seekers alike. What was once a tiny fishing village had morphed into a glittering nexus of trade and vice.
But where there's light, shadows fester.
While the city center thrived under the Mizukage's watchful eye, the slums festered with yakuza and desperation.
"Hey, old hag—where's this 'prime goods' you promised?"
Bunpei Yo, a greasy-haired thug in a gaudy Yokosuka jacket, sneered as he flashed the tattoos snaking up his arms. Passersby shrank away, feeding his smirk.
"Boss, she's right here—absolute top-shelf!" The old woman running the ramen stall bowed, unfazed by his tone.
Bunpei scoffed. Slum trash wouldn't know quality if it bit 'em. The last "pretty girl" he'd harassed here had skin like a pickled radish.
Then he saw her.
A silver-haired child, barely 150 cm tall, cloaked in white. Her face—pale as moonlight—was half-hidden by a blindfold, but the delicate slope of her nose and soft lips promised beauty beneath.
Jackpot.
"Tch. Too young. And crippled," the old woman muttered, eyeing Bunpei's reaction.
"Shut your damn mouth!" He shoved her aside, circling the girl like a shark.
Silver hair. Blindfolded. A living doll.
If he sold her to those rich freaks in the red-light district? Retirement money.
"Another bowl, ma'am," the girl chirped, slurping the last of her noodles.
"Hey, kid," Bunpei leaned in, reeking of cheap tobacco. "How 'bout I treat you to some real meat?"
She turned, smiling sweet as poisoned honey. "Oh? Sure~"
Bunpei nearly drooled. Gods, she's even cuter up close.
He spat out his toothpick. "C'mon, let's go."
The alleyway reeked of piss and iron.
Bunpei yanked her blindstaff—or tried to. The damn thing didn't budge.
"…Huh?"
The girl's smile never wavered.
Then—
THWACK. CRUNCH. SPLAT.
Ten minutes later, Hikari stepped out, her staff's tip dripping crimson. Behind her, the slurry that was Bunpei Yo seeped into the gutter.
Local scum know everything.
Thanks to his enthusiastic cooperation, she now had maps, faction intel, and a list of "untouchables" in Haikawa.
Her goal? A smooth transit to Konoha. No detours.
"One more bowl, please."
The ramen granny looked up—then froze.
No Bunpei. Just Hikari, her staff crusted with gore.
"Y-You… He…"
"Hurry. I'm on a schedule."
The old woman sobbed as she cooked, hands shaking. "P-Please… I won't tell—"
CRUNCH.
A wet thud hit the floor. The woman had bitten off her own tongue, blood pooling between her teeth.
Hikari sipped her broth, unfazed. "Cruel to others. Cruel to yourself." She stood, tossing coins on the counter. "If I'm back in Water Country, I'll eat here again."
The granny kept bowing, forehead smearing red on the tiles.
Golden Lights Casino — High-Stakes Floor
Dice clattered. Drunks roared. Hikari sat alone at the "Lucky Leopard" table, her mountain of chips gleaming under chandeliers.
"LEOPARD! 150x PAYOUT!!"
The dealer sweat through his shirt. Third fucking time. Two billion ryō gone. The boss would skin him.
"Keep rolling!" Gamblers shoved forward, desperate to ride her streak.
Hikari sipped juice,byakugan humming beneath her blindfold.
Three chakra signatures in the building. All weaker than academy dropouts.
A grim truth dawned:
Not every ninja was Kiri ANBU.
Most were like these—barely genin-level, scraping by as muscle for hire.
Thud. Thud.
Black-suited bodyguards parted the crowd.
"Move."
A portly man waddled forward—Boss Jounagare, Haikawa's underworld kingpin.
"Miss…" He hesitated, eyeing her childlike frame. "How may I serve you?"
Hikari crushed her steel cup into a origami crow.
"Three things."
Cash out my chips.
A ticket to the Land of Fire—fastest ship.
A room for the night.
Jounagare bowed. "Of course. The SS Hope leaves at dawn. Top suite is yours."
"Deduct expenses from my winnings. Plus an extra million."
"…May I ask why?"
"Compensation." She tapped her bloody staff. "For a man named Bunpei Yo."
The boss blinked. "Ah. How… generous." (Who the hell was Bunpei?)
Hikari stood. "Pleasure doing business."
Epilogue:
By sunrise, she was aboard the Hope, her pockets lined with Konoha's currency.
The slums whispered of a demon-child who'd humiliated the yakuza.
The casino pretended nothing happened.
And the ramen granny?
She never spoke again—but her stall thrived.
After all, fear was terrific for business.