[Valley Village – Market District]
The café wasn't fancy, just crowded enough to feel anonymous. The smell of grilled meat and spiced tea drifted through the warm air. Dozens of people talked at once, and no one paid attention to the woman in the floral dress sitting across from a quiet traveler in a nondescript cloak.
Naruto sat with his back to the wall, stirring his tea. His gaze casually scanned the passersby, but his ears were focused on only one voice.
"Yakisoba's a bit greasy during dinner rush," Ino said, sipping from her cup. "But if you catch it around lunch hour? Perfect texture. Can't beat it."
"Good to know," Naruto replied. "I'll make sure I'm there when it's fresh."
She smiled behind her sunglasses. "Also, skip the red lantern stand. Too much seasoning. Gives people… stomach problems."
"Wouldn't want a bad reaction."
They both let the moment hang. It was enough.
"You've been busy," Naruto said.
Ino leaned forward a little, voice playful. "Told you I do more than look good in a dress."
He gave her a half-smile. "Didn't say you didn't."
"Mmhm." She tilted her head. "One of them invited me to dinner. Real fancy type. Gold-trimmed robe, five rings on his fingers, smelled like imported oils. Told me a girl like me should be a kept treasure, not an assistant."
Naruto raised an eyebrow. "Sounds charming."
"He has a wife," she said with a smirk. "And a mistress. Oh, and a maid he makes wear his daughter's old dresses."
Naruto's expression didn't change. Just a slow exhale. "Filthy kitchen."
"Filthy's one way to put it." Ino let her smile drop for a moment. "He signs off on the contracts personally. Puts them through the local magistrate. Anyone with debt over ten ryo gets assigned a 'guard detail.' Only the detail is always one-way."
Naruto leaned back, folding his arms. "Body count?"
"Twenty confirmed. Another thirty, minimum, disappeared. All lower-class shinobi. Most of them Konoha-affiliated by trade license."
That got his attention.
"Names?"
She tapped a folded napkin beside her plate.
He took it, slipping it into his sleeve without looking.
"You sure about this one?" he asked.
"Positive," she said. "He's the one handing out leashes. The others? Accessories."
Naruto nodded once.
"Lunch hour?"
"Every day, same place. Private room, second floor of the soba house near the stone bridge. No guards. He thinks the contract keeps him safe."
Naruto took a sip of tea. "Time to break the agreement."
Ino chuckled, a little breathy. "See, this is why I like talking to you. No speeches. Just clean cuts."
He looked at her over the rim of his cup. "You holding up?"
"Me?" She lifted her sunglasses, resting them in her hair. Her eyes met his. "I'm great. Just tired of being told I'd make a good housewife by men who can't wash their own hands."
Naruto's lips twitched in a restrained grin. "Must've been hard not to gut them all."
"Oh, it was." She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "But I had to make sure the one who matters gets it right."
For a moment, the air between them shifted—quiet, heavier. Then she leaned back and smirked.
"Besides… if I didn't do my part, you wouldn't get your big dramatic moment."
Naruto smirked slightly, but his eyes remained sharp. "Anything else I need to know?"
"Mm… two of his aides will be in the soba shop with him. Unarmed. Probably not worth your time unless they panic."
"I'll make it quiet."
"I know."
She looked at him for a second longer, then stood and grabbed her purse.
"I'll be at the flower market for the next hour. In case anyone asks."
"Right," he said.
As she turned to leave, she paused briefly, then added over her shoulder—
"Hey, Fox."
Naruto glanced up.
"Be safe."
He nodded once. "Always."
---
The soba house was quiet, tucked neatly beside the stone bridge just like Ino said. Not too fancy. Not too poor. The kind of place you went to when you wanted privacy without suspicion.
Naruto entered like a traveler—slouched posture, worn boots, dust on his coat. No one looked twice.
He didn't need a reservation. Just a seat near the back, close enough to watch the narrow staircase that led up to the second floor. He waited. Didn't order anything.
Just listened.
Footsteps overhead. Two heavier, one light. Male voices, laughing. The rustle of silk. The slight echo of a tray being placed down.
Target confirmed.
Naruto stood and made his way to the back hallway. No staff around. A quick hand seal cloaked him in a faint shimmer—just enough for one quiet pass up the stairs, unseen.
At the top, a narrow hallway with a sliding door at the end.
He didn't hesitate.
Slide. Step. Close.
The two aides barely had time to turn their heads. The fat official—gold rings and all—froze mid-bite, a smear of broth on his lip.
Naruto moved with machine precision.
One kunai flicked through the air, straight into the throat of the first aide. The man crumpled, clutching at the sudden flood of red. The second reached for something—chakra, maybe—but Naruto was already there, jamming a blade through his chest and twisting before letting him drop silently to the floor.
The room was quiet again, except for the soft scrape of the official backing up, his seat sliding with him.
Naruto turned to him slowly.
"Who… who the hell are you?" the man rasped, voice cracking.
Naruto said nothing.
The official pointed a trembling hand. "I'm sanctioned! I have Leaf support! You think you can touch me?"
Still, nothing.
The man's bravado cracked. "Wait, listen—I can pay. Double what they're giving you. Triple. You're a shinobi, right? You want money?"
Naruto stepped closer, reaching into his coat.
"I'm not here for the money," he said finally, voice flat.
"Then what?! What do you want?!"
Naruto looked him dead in the eye.
"Balance."
A flash of silver, and the room was quiet.
No screams. No spectacle. Just another stain wiped clean.
---
He left the soba house the same way he entered—slow, silent, ordinary. Down the stairs. Through the back hallway. Into the sunlit crowd of the market street, where people laughed and shouted and lived, unaware of what had just ended upstairs.
He didn't look back.
In the distance, near a stall selling chrysanthemums, he caught a glimpse of auburn hair. Ino glanced toward him briefly, gave the slightest nod, and returned to pretending she was interested in flower prices.
Naruto vanished into the crowd.
---
Neutral Outpost, Just Outside Valley Village – Twilight
The sun had dipped low, casting gold and indigo across the forested horizon. The wind was still. Quiet.
Naruto sat on a flat stone near the outpost trail, half-hidden by tree branches. His mask was off, tucked in his lap, the shadows hiding most of his face. His sword leaned against a tree beside him, untouched.
Ino found him there, just like she expected.
She said nothing at first, just walked up and sat beside him on the stone. Close enough to share the silence. Far enough to keep the space professional—barely.
He didn't look at her. But he didn't leave, either.
She offered him a small flask of water. He took it, drank, passed it back.
"Clean work," she said after a while.
Naruto nodded once. "Thanks for the setup."
They let that sit.
Then, she glanced sideways at him. "You alright?"
He didn't answer immediately. Just kept his eyes on the sky, watching it darken.
"…Yeah," he said finally. "It's always just another mission."
"Still," she said quietly, "I know it doesn't mean nothing."
He looked at her this time. His eyes weren't cold—but they were distant. Worn.
"It means enough," he replied. "But it doesn't help to carry it."
Ino looked back at the trees. "I guess not."
More silence. The kind that wasn't awkward. Just… tired.
She leaned back on her hands, staring up. "You know… if you ever need to talk, I'm good at listening."
He gave a small breath of a laugh. "You're also good at talking."
"Shut up," she said, smiling.
Another quiet beat.
"I meant it," she added. "About the guy today. He deserved it."
"I know."
"But I still feel gross. Like I smiled too well. Played the part too perfectly."
Naruto didn't respond. Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out something small—a chrysanthemum, slightly wilted.
He handed it to her.
She blinked, startled.
"You noticed?"
"I always notice," he said. "You just think I don't."
She held it delicately, caught off guard by how gentle he said it.
He stood, adjusting his sword and mask.
"We leave in thirty. Get your things."
As he turned to walk back toward the trail, Ino called out.
"Hey, Fox."
He paused.
"…Thanks," she said softly.
He didn't answer. But he lifted a hand—two fingers raised briefly in quiet acknowledgment—as he disappeared into the treeline.
She looked down at the wilted flower in her hand.
And smiled.