Deep in the shadowy forest, the light was shredded by layer upon layer of branches and leaves.
Three ninja wearing Kusagakure forehead protectors, their expressions weary and wary, had stopped for a brief rest in a relatively dry hollow among the roots of a tree.
They were Kusagakure's other team.
"Tch."
The first Grass ninja, his complexion sallow and his eyes sinister, carefully took several vials of medicine and some bandages from his ninja pouch. His face betrayed his anguish over the expense as he grumbled, "Konoha has gone too far.
"If they hadn't taken that red-haired monster girl away, why would we need to spend money on these outrageously expensive medicines?"
He was referring to Karin's "Heal Bite" ability, which they had relied on to rapidly recover from injuries and replenish their chakra at virtually no cost.
Now that they had lost their "portable blood bag," they had been forced to make a last-minute purchase before the exams, paying exorbitant prices for military medical supplies and provisions that were far less effective than Karin's ability.
For ninja from a Small Country already short on resources, this was a considerable burden.
Beside him, Grass Ninja B, tall and thin with somewhat deadened eyes, sighed. His voice was low and listless. "Isn't that how the great nations operate? They plunder Small Countries whenever they please.
"If something catches their eye, they take it; if they need something, they requisition it.
"The problem is that we aren't as strong as Konoha, so we can't fight back when they plunder us. Even our protests are feeble and useless."
His words were filled with the helplessness and resentment of a Small Country's ninja, but there was also a trace of numb resignation.
In the shinobi world, strength determined whose voice mattered, and the strong