Sora's Unpayable Debt

Three days later, Mist Harbor.

The midday sun, unusually, pierced through the thick clouds, pouring down in large swaths onto the harbor, illuminating the shop signs lining both sides.

The aroma of grilled fish wafting from the food street mingled with the steam from freshly made takoyaki, and the salty, fishy smell of the harbor breeze.

The crowd moved slowly between the stalls, and occasionally a child would squeeze out of the crowd with a skewer of grilled squid, his mouth glistening with oil and his laughter ringing out.

The barbecue stall owner was a middle-aged man in his fifties, his skin tanned dark and reddish from years of charcoal grilling, his apron covered in indelible oil stains and sauce marks.

As he turned the squid skewers on the wire mesh, he used his other hand to grab a handful of cumin and sprinkle it evenly on top.

He looked up at the bustling scene before him, his hands unconsciously slowing down, a sense of melancholy rising in his heart.

About seven years ago, led by the Fourth Mizukage of Kirigakure, the Daimyo of the Land of Water issued a series of decrees to close the country off from the world.

That transfer order might not have much impact on the lives of the noble lords and ninja masters.

But for the ordinary people of Mist Harbor, whose families have relied on foreign trade for generations, it was no different from the sky falling down.

The port was blocked, cargo ships couldn't get in, shops closed one after another, and goods piled up on the docks rotted in the open air without anyone caring.

They had pawned everything they could in their house, so they could only row their small fishing boat out to sea to try their luck, catching a few skinny, miscellaneous fish, which they would then sell at the market for a pittance, barely enough to cover their costs, in exchange for a few pounds of rice to make ends meet.

He had his share of discontent, but what could he do?

Should we go to protest? Those guys who led the way by unfurling banners at the pier—they were nowhere to be seen after just a couple of days.

Just being alive... is already a great achievement.

This was the phrase he, and his fellow villagers, said most often during those years.

All of this began four years ago.

Four years ago, Mist Village, the Shiina Sora's Mizukage Aide from Kirigakure, personally went to the Daimyo's residence for a full day of discussions.

The following day, the Daimyo Prefecture issued a new document, reopening the Mist Harbor.

Although the policy of isolationism remains in effect, trade is strictly limited to merchants holding official licenses from the Land of Water.

But for the people of Mist Harbor who were on the verge of starvation, this was a lifeline that had fallen from the sky.

What surprised everyone even more was that this lifeline... was just the beginning.

Those Kirigakure Ninja, who were originally mysterious and terrifying in the eyes of the people of the Land of Water, began to appear frequently in various corners of the Land of Water.

Repairing bridges, paving roads, guarding the docks, cracking down on local thugs...

They implemented aid programs in various places in the name of the Land of Water, and the order and economy of Mist Harbor recovered at a visible speed in just four years.

Those criminal gangs that once brazenly collected protection money were successively wiped out under the merciless attacks of the Kirigakure Ninja.

The remaining scattered forces could only cower in the most hidden corners, barely surviving, not daring to even show their heads.

Without layers of exploitation, his business and that of his peers became even easier than before the country closed itself off from the world.

Those Kirigakure Ninja they used to avoid at all costs have somehow become the figures that the people of Mist Harbor most look forward to seeing.

Looking at the crowd ahead, the boss sighed inwardly:

"I wish these days could go on forever."

Just as he was about to start hawking his wares as usual, he suddenly caught a glimpse of a slender figure standing in front of his stall.

There was someone else standing in front of my stall, I didn't even know when.

She was a little girl with long black hair and fair skin.

The little girl had a very delicate face, with big, dark, watery eyes that were fixed intently on the skewer of freshly grilled squid in his hand.

Unlike the unruly children his age who are everywhere, he didn't make a sound; he just stood there quietly.

Looking at the "young girl" in front of him, the boss couldn't help but think of his own daughter, who was about the same age as the child in front of him, and his heart softened a little.

He picked out the best-grilled squid from the wire mesh, handed it to the child, and said with a smile:

"Take this and eat it; it's free."

The "girl" paused for a moment, then quickly waved her hand:

"No, no need..."

He said he didn't need it, but his eyes couldn't help glancing at the skewer of glistening grilled squid, and a barely perceptible gurgle escaped his throat.

The owner didn't pull his hand back; he simply pushed the skewers forward a few more times, saying with a smile:

"It's really free! If you like it, just bring your parents next time and come back more often!"

Upon hearing the word "father," the girl's outstretched hand paused very subtly in mid-air.

Something in those bright black eyes dimmed for a fleeting moment.

The boss saw the "girl's" hand freeze in mid-air, his heart skipped a beat, realizing he had said something wrong, and quickly apologized:

"Um, child, I didn't mean to..."

Before he could finish speaking, a hoarse and deep voice came from behind him.

"Bai, what are you daydreaming about?"

The boss turned his head and saw a tall, imposing figure walking towards them.

He was a burly adult man, half of his face wrapped in layers of white bandages, revealing only a pair of sharp eyes.

He wore a dark blue vest in the style of the Mist Village, and carried a giant blade wrapped in white cloth on his back.

The boss was startled when he saw the burly figure.

Bai turned his head and looked at the figure walking towards him; his previously dim eyes instantly brightened.

"Zabuza- sama!"

Zabuza walked to the stall, looked down at Haku, and his eyes above the bandages appeared particularly gloomy.

"... We didn't come here to play."

Hearing Zabuza's rebuke, Haku lowered her head in shame. Her long hair slipped from her shoulder, covering half of her face, making her look exceptionally pitiful.

"I'm sorry, Lord Zabuza..."

The barbecue stall owner glanced at the child with his head down, then at the man exuding an aura of power, his gaze Zabuza Mist Village Forehead Protector.

He looked at Zabuza's Forehead Protector, and his expression visibly relaxed.

The shopkeeper put down the grill tongs, wiped his hands on his apron, and said to Zabuza in a tone of someone with experience:

"Are you this child's Teacher? This little girl is so young, there's no need to be so strict with her."

"Young girls are very sensitive; if you do that... the child will dislike you."

Zabuza's facial muscles twitched almost imperceptibly beneath the bandages.

He looked at the rambling barbecue stall owner in front of him, and a rare, undisguised strangeness appeared on his usually cold and stern face.

He's disliked?!

The shop owner, completely oblivious to Zabuza's complicated expression, picked up a few more skewers of freshly grilled squid and chicken from the stall, neatly wrapped them in oil paper, and stuffed them into Zabuza's hand.

The oil paper package was still steaming, and you could smell the strong aroma of the sauce mixed with the smoky fragrance of charcoal even through the paper.

"You ninjas must be training very hard, right? Since you're already here, bring the kids and have some fun."

Even if the task is urgent, you have to eat first before you can do it.

Haku glanced at the oil paper package shoved into Zabuza's hand, then at Zabuza's face, which, though mostly covered by bandages, clearly showed signs of bewilderment. A smile involuntarily crept onto his lips.

He reached out and gently took the bag of still-steaming kebabs.

"Thank you, Uncle!"

Bai's voice was gentle and sincere, and his eyes curved into a smile again.

Seeing Bai obediently thanking him while holding the skewers, the owner smiled too.

"Young lady, you're too kind. It's all thanks to the ninjas from Mist Village who maintain order here that we can do business here peacefully."

Zabuza looked at the boss in front of him, then at Haku beside him, and remained silent for a long while.

His expression shifted several times, and after a long pause, he finally spoke somewhat stiffly:

"... Thanks."

The boss smiled and waved his hand:

You're welcome, come again next time!

Zabuza didn't linger. He reached out and grabbed Haku's wrist, then turned and fled as if his life depended on it.

Bai was led along by him at a jog, then turned back and waved in the direction of the barbecue stall:

Goodbye, Uncle!

"Also, um, I'm actually a boy..."

The boss's smiling face froze in the wind.

"Huh, huh?!"

He stood there, stunned, as if processing this explosive information.

However, what he didn't notice was that a stack of banknotes, pressed down by oil paper, had appeared in the corner of his stall at some point.

The banknotes weren't large in value, but they were more than he could earn in a whole day...