The hours after nightfall in Nakanoura were like a completely different world. The hum of the day dulled into murmurs and flickering lanterns. The sea breeze turned colder, and the dark alleys on the side of buildings seemed to warp longer.
Kuroichi pulled up the hood of his cloak and moved along the narrow alleys that twisted behind bars, bathhouses, casinos, pawn shops and brothels.
The main roads were still brightly alight with people bustling around. Men drank loudly outside makeshift taverns, while others whispered in clustered corners, trading coins and information in plain sight.
Kuroichi didn't approach anyone, instead, he just followed along with different groups of people and listened to their conversations.
He shadowed two men, both slightly drunk, as they passed through a curtained entryway into a backroom sake den. The sign above was faded beyond reading. Kuroichi settled into a quiet corner across the street, behind a low stack of crates, and waited.
He wasn't willing to draw any attention, all he wanted was to quietly listen. Inside the den, their laughter drifted through the paper-thin walls, followed by a conversation that eventually dipped into some more interesting topics.
"I'm tellin' you," one of them slurred, "steel costs more than sake these days. Can't even get a hoe without suffering for weeks. Might as well pawn my sandals. Hahaha."
"You idiot. Sigh, but yes it seems war really is on the horizon, I just have this feeling. Everything is drying up, people are beginning to stockpile what they can. Even the miners up north are hoarding everything they get, probably scored some war contract, no doubt."
"Probably. Even the prices on the black market have recently shot up like a daimyo's bazaar I hear."
A pause.
"Did you hear the rumors though? Apparently sand's got movement in their west, and the leaf is already prepping and gearing up as well."
Hearing this, Kuroichi's heart skipped a beat. 'So it's really starting. Fate is starting to unfurl itself…'
He had of course know, if only in the back of his mind, that the second shinobi world war was creeping closer. He knew the rough outline of the timeline. He had read and watched the manga and anime in another life enough, but hearing that war was coming, especially here in this new world, where drunk civilians speak of rising prices and war mobilization?
It was different, because it felt much more real. He knew, theoretically at least, what a meat grinder war really was. He turned and left before they could see him, his mind spinning faster than his feet could carry him.
'The black market… I have to find it.'
---
Later at night, still cloaked and cautious, Kuroichi tailed a particularly shady looking man through the twisting alleys of the warehouse district. The man paused near a stack of rotting crates, tapped a certain stone twice with his heel, and slipped through what looked like a false wall behind a fishing shed.
Kuroichi narrowed his eyes. 'Found you,' he thought as he stayed behind and didn't follow any further. Instead, he waited until the man emerged half an hour later and took a different route back. Kuroichi circled around and followed after him.
He tracked the man deep into the weaving streets. He didn't rush. His footsteps were ghostlike, barely disturbing the earth beneath him. He was using this opportunity as a sort of make-shift ninja training, trying to be as quiet as possible while trailing his target. He kept a part of his concentration on his natural sensing as well, focusing on the small, barely developed chakra within the man's body.
The guy was short and had greasy hair. His shoulders were hunched over and he had a weird twitch in his step that practically screamed "information mule" to Kuroichi. He simply moved like he had something to hide.
It wasn't long before the alley narrowed and the man paused, reaching to scratch the back of his neck, but by then it was already too late.
A shadow dropped silently behind him, a water clone of Kuroichi's, and before the man could cry out, another figure stepped out from behind him, pressing a kunai to the side of his throat.
"You make a sound," the figure whispered coldly, "and I'll test how deep this kunai can really go into your neck before you die."
The man froze, instinctively raising his hands.
The transformed Kuroichi and his water clone quickly moved the man into another side alley where even rats wouldn't tread, and slammed him against a damp stone. The water clone kept pressure on his limbs while Kuroichi crouched in front of him, calm, patient.
"Let's talk," Kuroichi said. "I already know that you know all about the black market. I want in. Tell me what I need to know."
"I-I don't know anything, I just..-"
Kuroichi didn't respond. Instead, he slowly and meticulously started forming seals. The water clone adjusted it's grip, and a thin stream of water formed above the man's face, twisting into a ball like shape. Then it dropped, and a harsh gush of compressed water slammed into the man's chest, knocking the wind out of him.
Kuroichi moved a little closer. "This is me being polite," he said. "You'd have better changed your mind the next time I ask about what've want to know."
The man coughed, trembling now. "Y-You can't, if they find out…"
Crack
Another water bullet had formed and slammed right onto his index finger, twisting it 180 degrees in the opposite direction with a sickening crack. This time, Kuroichi had formed the water into the actual shape of a bullet, compressing it just slightly enough to inflict more damage without being excessive.
"Ahhhhh!!"
"If you don't start making smarter choices, then who knows? Maybe the next one will go through your whole hand," he said flatly. "The ones after that your knee, your hips, then your lungs and so on. You'll be a broken mess before we're done with you and anybody could help."
In the end, the man held out for longer than expected, though not long enough to cause any trouble. Eventually, with blood running down his arms and legs, he broke.
"There's a contact point… stone wall behind the dockside shrine. You just need to press a specific stone three times and whisper a code. The guards watch and if they like you, they'll let you in."
Kuroichi said nothing, so the man continued in a horse voice.
"They sell everything. Scrolls, forbidden tools, chakra drugs, stolen jutsu. Slaves. Even intel on anything one could think of, from the hidden villages and their daimyo to obscure historical and mythological information. Of course, all that is provided you have enough coin. Oh, there's bounty work too of course."
In the end, he almost sounded relieved to be talking. Kuroichi nodded slowly, then asked him a few more questions before he leaned in a bit closer.
"You won't be followed," he said, as if offering comfort and confusing the man in front of him.
A quick thrust of his new wakizashi silenced the man before he could even respond, blood gurgling in his throat as he fell down.
Still, the information Kuroichi gained was very enlightening and important for him, plus his kill at the end was clean, fast and final. This time he wouldn't take any risks, he needed to stay under the radar and still gain a foothold somewhere in order to earn some money.
Kuroichi dragged the body deeper into the shadows and half-heartedly covered it, scattering debris over it like forgotten garbage. Then, quiet as can be, he vanished into the night.
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