Still uneasy, Hiroshi leaned closer. "What if Komatsu has already slipped out of the Land of Grass and into the Land of Fire?"
At the words Land of Fire, the lounging Tosuke snapped upright, eyes glittering, fingers tightening around his cup.
After a moment's silence, he spoke slowly, "If that money really was hidden by father and son, then Komatsu running to Konoha for help is the obvious next step."
His gaze darkened. "Right now, those reinforcements could already be on the road to Nagakawa City."
"Wh-what do we do then?" Hiroshi panicked, pudgy fingers clamped around his cup. "We can't just sit and wait."
"If that's true, we underestimated Komatsu." Tosuke swirled his sake, unperturbed.
"But no need to panic, it's only your guess. Even if it's true, while I'm here, this storm won't overturn the sky."
The more casual he sounded, the more Hiroshi trembled. "No need to panic? That's Konoha ninjas…"
Boom!
Before he could finish, Tosuke smashed his fist down, shattering the low table. Dishes flew, liquor flooded the tatami.
He roared, eyes blazing. "Silence!"
"Ahhhhh…"
The sudden blast stopped the music dead. The dancer screamed, stumbled, and cowered in a trembling heap.
The room plunged into deathly hush. Every man held his breath, even the candle-flames seemed to freeze.
"Chattering all day, am I dead yet? What are you afraid of?" Tosuke turned his icy stare on Hiroshi, features savage as a blood-hungry beast.
"Remember, this is the Land of Grass, my territory. Even if Konoha ninjas come, I'll make sure they never leave."
Crack!
Tosuke closed his fist and crushed the porcelain cup, then slowly opened his hand, letting white shards drift down onto the wreck-strewn tatami.
—
Beside the road, a tiny dango stand stood quiet. Beneath its log eaves hung an indigo cloth fluttering gently in the wind.
Two neat rows of benches invited travelers to rest, sip tea, and taste dumplings.
Years had bleached the wooden sign, but bold ink still read 'Three-Color Dango.'
Kurenai's group sat at the front benches, each holding a skewer of dumplings and a cup of lukewarm matcha, savoring a rare moment of leisure on the road.
Mamoru stepped from the shop carrying a fresh white porcelain plate stacked with six differently colored dango skewers.
He walked slowly to the bench and set the plate gently beside Hinata, where more than a dozen empty plates already stood in a small white tower.
Mamoru plucked a skewer of syrup-drenched dango from the plate and bit off a whole ball. It was far sweeter than Konoha's, only good for an occasional taste.
Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced sideways. No wonder they call her the bottomless pit, she can already pack it away.
Hinata's cheeks were bulging as she nibbled the dango, a blissful smile glowing on her face.
Mamoru tossed the last two balls into his mouth at once, took a sip of matcha, and let the bitterness wash away the cloying sweetness before he swallowed.
"Komatsu-san, how much longer?" Kurenai asked softly, gazing into the distance.
"Follow this road straight and you'll reach my city, Nagakawa City, in about half a day." Komatsu answered in a low voice, pointing along the roadside.
"You're heading for Nagakawa City?"
The cloth curtain of the dango stall was lifted by a wrinkled hand, and an old man wearing a white head-wrap stepped out. He was the owner, his face etched with years yet still gentle with its smile.
"Yes, boss." Kurenai replied politely.
The old man shook his head, brows knitting slightly. "If it's nothing urgent, I'd advise you not to go."
He sat down slowly on the opposite bench, crossed one leg leisurely over the other, and from his waist produced an aged pipe and a box of matches, packing the bowl.
"Why?" Kurenai pressed.
"Nagakawa City is restless these days." The boss struck a match and an orange flame danced as it lit the tobacco.
"A gang called the Fierce Tiger Gang has taken hold."
"Fierce Tiger Gang? Sounds like some third-rate flick in a Chinese cultivation novel. How lame. Heh-heh…"
The name made Mamoru burst out laughing. He clutched his stomach, shoulders shaking as he chuckled to himself.
Seeing him so amused, Hinata couldn't help giggling too, as if the laughter were contagious.
Kurenai sighed in resignation and turned back to the owner. "Sorry, this kid's always like this. Please go on."
The stall owner had a good temper. Interrupted by Mamoru, he wasn't annoyed. He drew deeply on the pipe and exhaled a cloud of pale smoke that drifted lazily in the air.
He continued, "That Fierce Tiger Gang is numerous and acts outrageously. Their leader is Tosuke, said to be a formidable ninja. The city's in chaos and folk live in fear with no way to fight back. Many are already packing up to leave."
"Boss, where did you hear all this?" Mamoru had calmed, dabbing tears from his eyes.
"Where else?" The old man sighed. "Travelers resting here tell their tales."
Kurenai nodded, thinking, 'The stall lies on the main road near Nagakawa, news travels fast.'
"And some bastards freeload here claiming to be from the Fierce Tiger Gang, can't tell if they're real or fake." The boss tapped his pipe against the bench, frowning in annoyance.
"Is that so?" A sly glint flashed in Mamoru's eyes. "If I bump into them today, I'll sort them out for free."
"You?"
The owner sized up Mamoru's skinny frame and shook his head. "Don't boast, lad. Your legs aren't even as thick as their arms, stay clear of trouble."
Komatsu cut in, "Boss, don't judge by looks, he's a ninja."
"A ninja?" The old man's hand holding the pipe paused, surprise flickering in his eyes, but he still waved it off. "Forget it. I just want to keep selling dango. If they come for revenge, it's me who'll suffer."
The owner saw it plainly—if those thugs couldn't find Mamoru, they'd take it out on him, bullies always pick the soft target.
"Really? What a shame." Mamoru's lips curved, though no trace of regret showed.
The dango boss slid the pipe back into his sash, slapped his thighs and rose, heading inside. Halfway through the curtain he stopped, turned and said, "If you do go to Nagakawa, especially you, kid, keep your eyes open. When you spot hoodlums in the street, steer clear. Don't provoke them, or you'll land in big trouble."
"Understood. Thanks for the warning, we'll be careful."
Just as Mamoru opened his mouth, Kurenai beat him to it, thanking the owner while shooting Mamoru a warning glare.
The old man disappeared behind the curtain.
Mamoru whirled around, looking at Kurenai with a stare of shock, betrayal and outrage.
Hadn't she promised free speech?
Kurenai closed her eyes and simply ignored his silent protest.