The disguise was perfect.
The reflection staring back at him from the still pond in the courtyard was not a boy from the Hyūga compound, not a genin-to-be, not a ghost of Konoha's caged traditions. This was a man—broad-shouldered, with faint creases around his eyes, the kind that came not from age but from long hours spent calculating, watching, waiting.
Neji had transformed himself into a 25-year-old wandering merchant.
He wore a muted grey cloak with a brown trim, the sleeves loose, the hem heavy enough to imply long travel. His eyes were slightly dulled—not lifeless, but tempered—as if he had seen enough of the world to no longer flinch at it.
He called himself Yamato Shion, an independent dealer of rare goods, newly licensed out of a small Fire Country town "lost to maps but faithful in coin."
But beneath it all, Neji's mind was sharp as ever.
Forging a Life
He had spent two days crafting the identity. Carefully acquiring:
Forged travel licenses bearing stamped entry records from minor provinces
A merchant's ledger with staged sales of general goods: spices, dyes, low-grade chakra minerals
A basic trader's license, bought from a desperate ex-merchant who owed gambling debts to a river gang
A collapsible cart of low-value but authentic goods: cloth, thread, a few dull kunai dressed as "utility tools"
He moved smoothly, always avoiding the elite, targeting places where few asked questions but many listened for coin.
But his real search?
People.
Someone smart, hungry, overlooked. Someone like he had once been.
The Fire Country city was made of districts—each with its pulse.
And Ember Row, a tangle of overhangs, shopfronts, and incense smoke, was its lung. Crowded. Loud. Half-criminal.
It was there, in a narrow alley between a pawn stall and a dumpling cart, that Neji saw her.
A girl—no older than nine—stood beside a spice vendor's stall, not begging, not stealing. Listening. Watching every customer, every price shift, every hand motion. Her hair was jagged, cut unevenly with something closer to wire than scissors. Her clothes were layered for different roles: rags beneath a presentable scarf.
Neji stopped and leaned beside a rack of dried peppers.
The girl's gaze shifted toward him briefly, then back to the vendor's hands.
He knew that look.
She wasn't watching the spices. She was watching the scales.
The Game
A fat merchant in silk robes was arguing with the spice vendor.
"Four coins for cinnamon bark? That's robbery."
The spice vendor huffed. "It's imported. Ships don't land often this season."
The silk merchant looked ready to storm off. That was when the girl spoke.
"Sir, the bark you're buying is shaved thin. You're paying full price for hollow weight."
The vendor froze.
The merchant turned. "What?"
Neji watched as the girl stepped forward.
"Break it," she said, holding out her hand.
The merchant snapped the brittle curl of cinnamon—and it crumbled, dry and hollow.
The merchant's eyes narrowed. "You little—!"
"Don't yell at her," Neji said calmly, stepping between them. "She just saved you from being cheated."
The vendor flushed. "It's legal bark."
"But not worth four coins," Neji said. "Two, at best. You're welcome to try your scam on someone else."
The merchant glanced at Neji, nodded stiffly, and left. The vendor growled and stormed back into his stall.
The girl turned slowly, eyeing Neji.
"You weren't planning to stop him, were you?"
"I was watching to see what you'd do."
She squinted. "You talk like a noble but dress like a wanderer."
Neji chuckled. "And you talk like someone who wants to stop being poor."
They sat on the steps of an old sake house that didn't open until dusk. The girl stared at her hands, still dusty from the spice stall.
"I'm Aya," she said finally. "I know this district. I know where the guards rotate. I know which shops lie. I don't steal. I offer information for coins."
"And what do you want?"
"To stop sleeping in a crate with cats."
Neji smirked. "Reasonable."
Aya tilted her head. "You're not from here. But you walk like someone who's dangerous."
"I've moved through dangerous places," he said.
"Are you a shinobi?"
Neji's gaze didn't flicker. "Would a shinobi have a busted wheel on his cart?"
She snorted. "Fine."
Neji reached into his coat and pulled out a coin.
"I'll pay you one coin a day. More if you prove useful. You keep your eyes open, your ears sharper. You find out who's buying chakra minerals without a license. You find out which shopkeepers are hiding black market seals."
Aya raised an eyebrow. "That's dangerous work."
"So pick another crate."
She took the coin.
Aya wasn't just a helper.
Neji needed eyes and ears—a network. Children were the first web: ignored, invisible, mobile. If Aya could navigate Ember Row at nine, she could help build a network by eleven.
And Neji… he would fund it, control it, and stay behind the curtain.
This wasn't about rebellion anymore.
This was about building something enduring.
Later That Night
They met again beneath the Lantern Veins.
Aya was waiting, arms crossed, chewing on ginger candy.
"I found two things," she said. "One—there's a pawn shop that sells chakra tools without a clan tag."
Neji nodded.
"Two—there's a courier boy named Riku. He has a memory like a hawk. He remembers who sends which letters and who they go to. He's quiet. But I saw a clan kid give him a scroll marked with a red ring."
Neji's brow lifted.
Red ring scrolls were Uchiha watch orders.
"What did Riku do with the scroll?"
"Delivered it to a gambling house near the eastern wall. Place called Hidden Flames."
That wasn't a normal drop point.
"Good work," Neji said.
"Double coin?" Aya said.
He gave it to her.
That night, Neji returned to his room and lit a single candle.
He opened a blank scroll.
On it, he began writing—slowly, deliberately.
A ledger of names: Aya. Riku. Yugo. Daizo. Yashiro (the merchant who forged papers). The spice vendor. The gambling house.
He created three categories:
Potential Assets
Observed Risks
Movable Commodities
This wasn't just a disguise anymore.
Neji was learning what it took to move through the civilian layer of the shinobi world—and maybe, just maybe, rewrite the rules from underneath.