But even as he said it, he couldn't ignore what was happening. The scrolls. The chakra tags. Every time he touched something with chakra, it glitched or sparked. And it wasn't random anymore—it was too often to ignore.
He wasn't a shinobi. He didn't use chakra. He barely understood how tags worked. But even he could see this wasn't normal.
What if Kaede told Konan?
Would they think he was hiding something?
Would they treat him like a threat?
He tried to push the thought away. Focus on the job. Yuna's trade route was solid. Haru's caravan was leaving in a few days. If he stayed on track, he could move more wraps, get the bamboo mats delivered, and keep growing the shop.
Whatever was going on with the seals, it had to be someone else's problem. Probably just a faulty batch from the Grass village. Maybe.
But deep down, he wasn't so sure.
✦ Two Days Later ✦
The market was busy, full of people and noise. Traders crowded the stalls, calling out prices and showing off their goods.
Ryouhei stood next to Yuna, packing medic kits into a wooden crate. They were for a shinobi from the Land of Rivers. Kaede stood nearby, her hood pulled up against the light rain.
A Grass shinobi walked over. His headband caught the light as he held out a scroll. A soft glow showed on the chakra tag.
"I need ten wraps," he said. "I heard they work well in the rain."
"They do," Ryouhei said, handing him one. "Try it."
The shinobi poured water on the wrap. It stayed dry. He gave a small nod. "Good. I'll take them." He passed the scroll over to complete the deal.
Ryouhei took it carefully, trying not to touch the tag. But as his fingers brushed the paper, the tag sparked. A faint burn mark spread across it. The glow vanished.
The shinobi pulled his hand back fast. "What the hell was that?"
"Probably a bad seal," Ryouhei said calmly. "I'll write your order down instead. Same price."
The shinobi looked unsure but nodded. "Fine. But you should check your stuff. That's not supposed to happen."
He left without another word.
Kaede walked closer, her voice low. "That's the fourth seal that's failed this week."
"There's nothing to tell," Ryouhei said too quickly, louder than he meant. He took a breath and lowered his voice. "I don't know why it's happening. You checked me—I don't have chakra. Maybe it's the weather. Maybe it's the ink Yuna uses. Could be anything."
Kaede didn't look convinced. "New tags don't fail like that. Not over and over."
"Then it's something on Grass's end," he said, turning back to the crate. "I'm just a merchant. I don't mess with shinobi gear."
Kaede didn't answer. She stared at him for a moment, then stepped back and slipped into the crowd.
He couldn't pretend anymore. Something was wrong. Something tied to him. It wasn't chakra. It was something else—something that made chakra go weird when it got too close.
He hadn't touched anything strange since the attack.
He looked at his old pack, where the emergency scroll from Konan was buried. It wasn't warm anymore. Nothing strange now. But maybe it was never the scroll.
Maybe it was him.
"Nah," he whispered, shaking his head. "That's crazy. I'm just tired."
He tied the crate closed and carried it over to the corner. Yuna waved him over to help with a new trade. He pushed the thoughts away and forced a smile.
Work first. Worry later.
Ryouhei handed off the crate, stretching his arms as he stepped back into the bustle of the market. The rain had eased, leaving the ground slick and the air heavy. Somewhere nearby, a courier dashed through the crowd, clutching a sealed scroll. Ryouhei caught a glimpse of the emblem—a coiled snake, like the one from the Sound ninja's pouch.
He froze for a second, then forced himself to keep moving, pretending to adjust a stack of wraps. A nearby trader, a wiry man with a Grass headband, was muttering to his companion as they sorted through a crate of herbs.
"Sound's getting bold," the trader said, shaking his head. "Heard they hit another caravan last night, closer to the border. Looking for something—or someone."
"Again?" his companion replied, tossing a bundle of dried roots aside. "They're not just raiding. They're hunting. Probably tied to that mess in Konoha."
Ryouhei's ears pricked up, but he kept his eyes on the wraps. Sound ninja, again. Hunting. The coiled snake emblem burned in his mind. Were they still after him? Or was it Konan's scroll they wanted?
He exhaled slowly, his thoughts racing. The world was shifting—Orochimaru's betrayal, Konoha's chaos, and now Sound scouts creeping closer. He needed to stay sharp, stay useful. Konan's trust was his shield, but it wouldn't hold if she suspected he was more than a merchant. And Tsunade—her name was circling, a faint hope for Konoha's stability. If he could reach her, align his trade with her needs, he'd have another layer of protection in this darkening world.
One step at a time, he thought. Build the shop. Earn Konan's loyalty. Find a way to Tsunade. Survive.
✦ Ryouhei's Return from Grass ✦
Ryouhei left the Grass Village market with the trader's words echoing in his head. Sound was hunting. Orochimaru was moving. The world was changing fast—darker, more dangerous—and he had to stay ahead of it.
He tied the last crate shut, the rough rope scraping his palms, and looked up. The light rain had slowed, but the air was still thick with smoke and the smell of wet bamboo. Time to go, he thought, a sly smile forming.
Amegakure's waiting—and I've got plans.
---
The trip back through the Eastern Marsh was long and messy. Mud clung to Ryouhei's boots as the mule cart groaned under the weight of supplies. Mist hung low, hiding the cliffs.
Rain kept falling—lighter now, but steady—and soaked his cloak.
Haru grumbled about how slow the mule was moving, while Kaede walked ahead, kunai at her hip, eyes sharp for any trouble—Sound ninja, or worse.