The night rain fell thick and soft.
As time passed, Konoha Hospital grew ever quieter.
Voices dwindled.
Apart from the occasional gust of wind outside the window, all was still.
"What's a nuclear bomb?"
Under the dim lamplight, Han asked Liumu, who was on the floor, her face full of curiosity.
"Hmm... it's something good. In the future, someone will give this land two nuclear bombs as gifts."
"But how could a little girl have nuclear bombs?"
Liumu: ...
"This story is actually quite touching. She's just a little girl, with no parents or friends, and she can only make a living by selling nuclear bombs. When it gets cold, all she can do is huddle alone outside a window, watching other families gather together."
Liumu offered no comment.
But he could hardly interrupt, either.
In fact.
The story Liumu had just told was not The Little Match Girl, but...
The Little Nuclear Bomb Girl...
And this was not a Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale, but... a Hans Christian Massacre fairy tale.
He had told Han the story as a little joke, but he had never expected her to actually take it to heart.
"I'm not sleepy yet. Could you tell me another story?"
Han did not believe in ghosts or gods, so more than half of Liumu's specialties were of no use.
Looking at the anticipation in her eyes,
Liumu thought for a moment and asked, "Have you ever seen a lion, a zebra, or an ape?"
Han nodded.
"I haven't seen them in real life, but I've read books like that."
Liumu nodded.
And then a simplified version of a story began.
There was a little boy with many family members: parents, animals, and an older brother.
He followed many faiths, like a little lamb that had just