"My name is Hayato Satomi, captain of the Third Squad of the Land of Iron's border patrol."
"From today onward, you answer to me."
The old man braced himself against the pile of straw and slowly sat up, his tone cautiously probing. "Sir, what do you need us to do?"
"Nothing."
Maki looked at the old man and his two grandchildren, all worn down by suffering, and spoke softly.
"Stay alive, then go home."
That evening, Maki turned the deserted village into the squad's first temporary base.
Nonō cleared out a dozen or so houses that could still keep out the wind and rain, using boards to partition them into recovery areas for the wounded and rest areas for the children, leaving everything clean and orderly.
Using Flying Thunder God, Minato traveled back and forth to Konoha, bringing in large quantities of stored grain. He set up a large pot at the village entrance and cooked steaming rice porridge.
The sweet fragrance of rice drifted far through the damp rain and mist, drawing large numbers of refugees who had taken shelter deep in the mountains.
At first, only a handful cautiously approached. Soon, refugees came in groups, following the scent.
Maki set a wooden table at the village entrance, with securely packaged explosive tags laid out neatly on top.
Each was wrapped in layers of oiled paper and sealed with wax to keep out moisture. From the outside, they looked no different from ordinary parcels.
The refugees waiting for porridge were divided into two lines. On the left were the elderly, women, and children, who could receive porridge without registering. On the right were able-bodied adults, who had to answer one simple question first.
"Would you be willing to deliver something for us?"
"Deliver what?" someone asked quietly.
"Just take