Ryouhei hardly slept that night.
His room was small and bare—just a thin mattress on the floor, a wooden table, and a single lantern.
His wet clothes stuck to his skin, and the cold rain of Amegakure made him shiver.
He wasn't a ninja. He wasn't even in good shape. Back in his world, he was a 24-year-old part-time store clerk who sold used electronics online to get by. It wasn't much of a business—more of a side job.
Now, somehow, he was expected to convince a village full of real ninja that he could be their merchant? In a world where people used chakra and summoned giant creatures?
"I'm so dead," he whispered, staring at the ceiling.
The next morning was gray and wet. A knock at the door made Ryouhei jump. He got up quickly as it opened.
A thin man with scars on his face and a Hidden Rain headband stepped inside. He looked Ryouhei up and down like he was judging a stray animal.
"You're the outsider," the man said in a dull voice. "Name's Goro. Angel says you're here to work. Let's go."
Ryouhei nodded and grabbed the cloak Goro threw at him. It smelled musty, but at least it was dry. He followed Goro out into the rainy streets of Amegakure. The village was full of tall metal buildings, steam coming out of pipes, and narrow alleys slick with water.
People moved quickly, kept their heads down, and avoided eye contact. Ninja watched from the rooftops, barely visible through the mist.
Goro took him to a small, run-down building near the edge of the village. The sign above the door was old and faded, but Ryouhei could still read the word "Supplies." Inside, the air smelled like damp wood and old leather.
Shelves lined the walls, half-filled with boxes of bandages, dried herbs, and rusty tools. A heavyset woman with a missing tooth stood behind the counter, sorting through a pile of scrolls.
"This is Hina," Goro said. "She runs the supplies. You'll report to her."
Hina gave Ryouhei a sour look. "Angel said you're a merchant? You look more like a drowned rat."
She snorted and waved toward the shelves. "Amegakure's low on everything—food, medicine, weapons. The war's been draining us, and bandits keep attacking our caravans. If you're even half as good as you say, figure out how to get us supplies without getting yourself killed."
Ryouhei's stomach turned. War? Bandits? He remembered Amegakure being a rough place in the anime, but living it was something else. Still, he nodded, trying to stay calm. "Okay. What do we need most?"
"Medicine," Hina said. "We have too many wounded ninja and not enough herbs. There's a trader in a neutral town, two days from here. But the road is full of bandits. Our last group got hit hard."
"Bandits?" Ryouhei repeated, his mouth dry. "And you want me to… go there?"
Hina smirked. "Not alone, idiot. Goro will take a team. You're just coming along to make the deal. If you're useful, maybe we'll keep you."
Goro crossed his arms. "We leave at dawn. Don't slow us down."
Ryouhei's head spun. A two-day trip through bandit territory with a ninja team? He wasn't ready. But saying no might get him killed.
"Alright," he said, swallowing hard. "I'll be ready."
Hina threw him a small notebook. "This has our supplies and trade contacts. Study it. If you mess up, I'll deal with you myself."
As Goro and Hina got back to work, Ryouhei sat down with the ledger. It listed supplies, prices, and traders in nearby towns.
Some names were crossed out with words like "dead" or "raided." His hands trembled as he realized how dangerous this world was. But at least this part—numbers, deals—made sense to him.
That night, back in his room, Ryouhei studied the ledger under the lantern. He wasn't a genius, but he was good at spotting patterns.
The trader in the neutral town, named Taro, charged a lot but always delivered. If Ryouhei could talk him down on price, he might impress Hina and earn a place here.
He also saw something else. Amegakure's supply routes were always the same. No wonder the bandits kept finding them. Maybe he could suggest a new path—through the marshes, maybe—less expected. It was a risk, but it might work.
The next morning, Ryouhei stood at the village gates, holding a borrowed satchel with the ledger and a few coins.
Goro and three ninja were waiting, all armed and serious. One of them, a woman with short black hair and a scar on her nose, gave Ryouhei a cold look.
"Don't slow us down, outsider," the scarred woman said. "We're not here to babysit you."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Ryouhei replied with a shaky smile. Inside, he was panicking.
The trip was hard. The rain never stopped, turning the roads into slippery mud. Ryouhei's legs hurt, and his cloak was soaked through within the first hour. The ninja moved silently, like shadows, always alert. Ryouhei struggled to keep up, his sneakers—luckily still from his old life—slipping in the wet ground.
On the second day, as they got close to the neutral town, Goro suddenly raised his hand. Everyone stopped. Ryouhei nearly crashed into the scarred woman, who shot him a sharp look.
"Quiet," Goro whispered. "Something's wrong."
Ryouhei's heart pounded. He couldn't hear anything over the rain, but he could feel the tension. Then he saw it—a flash of metal in the trees.
"Ambush!" Goro shouted.
Kunai flew from the shadows. Goro and the others reacted fast, blocking the blades. Ryouhei dropped behind a rock, breathing hard. Six bandits rushed out of the trees, their faces covered, weapons ready. They weren't ninja, but they moved like they'd fought before.
"Stay down!" the scarred woman yelled, throwing a shuriken that hit one bandit in the shoulder.
Ryouhei was useless in a fight, but he had to help somehow. Then he remembered the ledger. The bandits didn't care about him—they wanted money and supplies. Maybe he could trick them.
He picked up a stick and wrote in the mud:
Ryo hidden 50 paces east. Take it and go.
It was a lie, but maybe they'd believe it. He stood up and waved his arms. "Hey! The money's over there! We hid it!"
The bandits paused. One of them, a tall man with a curved blade, gave an order, and two of the bandits ran off toward the east.
That was the moment the team needed. Goro stabbed a bandit in the chest. The scarred woman knocked another out with a kick to the head.
The fight ended quickly. The last bandits ran away. Goro's team stood there, breathing heavily, some injured. Ryouhei slowly came out from behind the rock, shaking.
Goro walked over and grabbed him by the collar. "What was that? You trying to get us killed?"
"It worked, didn't it?" Ryouhei said, his voice shaky. "I made them split up. Gave you a chance."
Goro stared at him, then let go. The scarred woman smirked. "Stupid, but clever. Not bad, outsider."
They reached the neutral town by sunset. The trader, Taro, was a greasy man with a fake smile.
Ryouhei bargained hard, using everything he knew from selling used phones back home. In the end, he got a crate of herbs for half the original price.
On the way back, Goro didn't say much, but he didn't glare either. When they returned to Amegakure, Hina checked the herbs and gave a grunt.
"Not bad," she said. "Maybe you're not useless after all."
Back in his room, Ryouhei dropped onto his mattress, exhausted but alive. He'd survived bandits, ninja, and a shady trader. For the first time, he felt a bit of hope. Maybe—just maybe—he could survive in this crazy world.
Outside, the rain kept falling. Somewhere in the village, Konan was watching.