The three of them walked up to the second floor.
Idly playing with the keycard in his hand, Yagura mused absentmindedly, "A twin-bed room? There are three of us. How are we splitting the beds?"
"Ringo is a girl."
Mukumo carefully glanced at his much shorter, silver-haired younger brother and hesitantly asked,
"Should we just share a—"
Before he could finish, a piercing scream drowned out his voice.
"No! Noooo!!!"
A woman's desperate wail shattered the quiet of the night.
The owner of the inn, wearing a cheap kimono and struggling with her thick-soled sandals, stumbled out of the entrance. Her steps were unsteady, and she collapsed to the ground.
But what filled her with despair was that the thief had already run far ahead, clutching her child, nearly disappearing from view.
"Waaah! Waaah!"
The baby's cries echoed through the deserted street.
"No! Noooo!!!"
The woman's mind replayed the scene from moments ago—the frail-looking man had snatched her child from the front desk, casting her a triumphant, mocking smile before vanishing into the night.
Tears streaming down her face, she screamed at the top of her lungs,
"Someone stole my baby! Help! Please, someone help!"
...
Her cries reverberated through the empty streets.
The sound of a mother's despair, mixed with the wails of her child, roused several sleeping residents.
One by one, doors and windows creaked open. Some people peeked out, while others stepped onto the street, curious about the commotion in the dead of night.
Clutching her aching ankle—possibly twisted in the fall—the innkeeper struggled to her feet, scanning the surrounding neighbors as if they were her last hope.
"He's right there! That man—he stole my child! Please, help me! I can't lose him!"
No one moved.
All she got in response were indifferent, detached stares.
Some even looked on with amusement, as if watching a street performance.
"Please, I'm begging you!"
Not my problem.
Who is she? Ugh, making such a racket in the middle of the night.
Sounds like someone's kid got stolen.
Oh, isn't that the innkeeper? She's got money.
Her husband left, and now she's losing her kid, too. What a shame.
Serves her right.
...
Not a single person took action.
The innkeeper felt like she was sinking into the abyss.
Tears streamed down her face as she murmured in a broken voice, "Muika... my Muika..."
A sharp crackling sound split the air.
Sparks of electricity flickered in the darkness as Yagura leapt gracefully from the rooftop.
"Auntie."
In one hand, he gripped the thief by the collar. With the other, he gently placed the baby back into the mother's trembling arms.
"Your child is safe. It's okay now."
"Muika! Muika!"
Like a drowning woman clutching a lifeline, she pulled the baby into a tight embrace.
"Thank the heavens, you're still here. You're safe."
"Waaah! Waaah!"
"Shh, don't cry, don't cry. Mommy's here. Mommy's here."
As she soothed her baby, her own tears fell uncontrollably, cascading down her cheeks.
Yagura watched silently, his expression unreadable.
"Let me go!"
Only then did he remember the struggling thief in his grasp.
The man thrashed violently, trying to break free, but his feeble strength was nothing to Yagura.
Looking at him up close, Yagura realized the thief wasn't just scrawny—he was a boy, no older than fifteen.
His face was gaunt, his clothes ragged and patched. Through the thin fabric, Yagura could see clusters of dark spots on his skin—ghastly, unsettling marks. Even his face bore some.
"Damn brat! Mind your own business!"
With a hoarse snarl, the thief pulled out a knife, its cold blade flashing under the moonlight.
Yagura remained unfazed. He infused chakra into his grip and released the boy's collar.
Pathetic.
You're lucky this time.
Next time, it won't be so easy—
The thief turned to run but suddenly froze.
His body refused to move.
"Alright, alright. No need to waste your energy. And don't bother glaring at me like that."
Yagura reinforced the chakra restraint, ensuring the boy couldn't budge an inch.
"W-Who are you?"
Only now did the thief realize something was seriously wrong. A look of terror spread across his face. "A... ninja?!"
A kid, even younger than him, was a ninja?
Impossible.
Ninjas didn't interfere in matters like this!
SMACK!
Yagura blinked and looked away, pretending not to see.
The innkeeper had sprung up and slapped the thief with every ounce of strength she had.
The sound of the slap sent shivers down Yagura's spine.
People said a mother's love made her strong—this one slap had left the boy's face red and swollen, his eyes rolling back as he lost consciousness.
Even the innkeeper herself lost her balance from the force, collapsing onto the ground.
Thankfully, the baby was securely strapped to her chest and wasn't hurt.
Yagura reached out to help her up, but she didn't take his hand.
Instead, she flipped over, knelt before him, and with tear-filled eyes, pleaded, "Ninja-sama, please... kill him. I'll pay whatever it takes."
Yagura's hand paused midair.
He turned to look at the unconscious boy.
Despite his young age, the way he had stolen the child—his precision, his timing—made it clear he was experienced.
He had waited for the perfect moment, acted swiftly, and fled without hesitation.
A repeat offender.
"If you don't kill him, the moment you leave, he'll come back. He won't forget this humiliation. He will seek revenge."
That was true.
Tonight, they were here. The thief wouldn't dare try again.
But what about tomorrow?
When they left, how would the mother and child defend themselves?
"Sigh. Keep your money."
Yagura made his decision, withdrawing the chakra restraining the boy's vital points.
No matter his past or circumstances, kidnapping children was unforgivable.
A blade of water shot forward, piercing the thief's vital spot, ending his life instantly.
His lifeless body, still wrapped in coral, slumped to the ground.
If he was lucky, someone might collect his corpse by morning.
If not, it would rot in the street until the stench forced someone to dispose of it.
"Earth Release."
Mukumo's quiet voice carried through the night.
The ground beneath the body churned, forming a rectangular pit that swallowed the corpse whole.
The soil shifted, smoothing over the ground as if nothing had ever happened.
Yagura chuckled.
Ah, he had almost forgotten—Mukumo was a kind-hearted Mist ninja.
...
On the inn's second floor, Ringo stood beside Mukumo.
Her red eyes gleamed with contempt. "I would've let him rot in the streets. Trash."
...
Yagura escorted the innkeeper back inside.
After downing several cups of water, she finally calmed down.
Her child, exhausted from the ordeal, had fallen into a deep sleep, blissfully unaware of how close he had come to being taken away forever.
Yagura raised a hand to stop her from thanking him yet again. "Enough, enough. If you really want to thank me, answer some questions."
He wanted to learn more about the Land of Water—beyond just the Mist Village.
The indifference he had witnessed tonight bothered him deeply.
"Of course!"
She nodded eagerly.
Yagura leaned forward. "Do you know that man?"
"No."
Not a personal enemy, then. Just an opportunistic criminal.
"You're raising the child alone while running the inn? Where's the father?"
"Yes, it's just me."
Her expression dimmed slightly. "He thought there was no future here. Left a year ago for the Land of Fire. Never came back."
A year without word.
Either he had been caught and executed at the border—or he had made it across and simply chosen to forget his family.
Either way, he wasn't coming back.
Yagura didn't press further. "What about your relationship with the neighbors? And with each other?"
She hesitated, then sighed bitterly. "Not good. Not at all."
Yagura nodded.
"Do you ever seek help from the Mist Village? File requests for missions?"
She looked at him cautiously, as if weighing her words. Finally, she spoke the truth.
"Not really."
"Why not? Too expensive? Or are Mist ninja just... difficult to approach?"
She hesitated, then admitted softly, "Both, I suppose."
"More the latter?" Yagura guessed.
"...Yeah."
He sighed.
So that's how things were.
----------------
Pls Drop some Power Stones
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