Konoha smells like wood smoke, rice, and too many people.
I step past the gate, tucking the stamped slip into my suit's inventory—right next to a few raw rubies and a roll of bandages. Not the strangest combination I've carried, but close.
The streets are clean and packed. People brush past on foot, carts roll by with clinking produce baskets, and kids chase each other barefoot between market stalls. Everyone seems to know where they're going.
I don't.
I wander a while. Five, ten, then thirty minutes. I lose track. I pass a dumpling stand, a weapon shop, something that might be a flower boutique but smells aggressively of herbs and smoke. I walk in what might be a circle—or a spiral. Every building's got sloped roofs and paper signs with translations above them. No terminals. No maps.
The PDA offers some vague direction based on traffic density and public movement vectors, but all it really confirms is that I'm going the wrong way.
Eventually, I stop near an alley mouth, trying to make sense of a crossroads, when—
Bump.
A body collides into mine, soft where my suit is hard.
Reflex kicks in. My hands shoot out to catch her before she stumbles, and I find myself holding—
Well.
Spoiler: Lady
A woman, lean and wild-looking, brown hair in a spiky tangle behind her. She's wearing a trenchcoat wide open, over a netted shirt with fabric underneath that hugs more than it hides. Short brown skirt, armored legs, sandals, the whole ensemble making a confident kind of statement
She leans into me, her balance "off"—arms coming up to steady herself against my chest, hands curling just a little too easily on my chest for it to feel accidental. Her breasts press into my chest—warm, soft, solid, with the faint scent of smoke and something sharp, almost metallic.
She grins up at me, not the least bit flustered. Her eyes sweep my visor, searching for my face, then settle on what they imagine is my gaze.
"Well, well. You lost, stranger?" Her tone is bright, but there's a bite to it—half teasing, half challenge. She doesn't bother pulling away, either; just stands there, too close, as if she's letting the contact speak for itself.
I manage to steady her—sort of—and she finally steps back, but not by much. Her hand lingers on my shoulder a beat longer than it needs to.
"Uh… yeah," I admit. "I'm looking for the bank."
Her smile widens. She shifts her weight, one hip cocked. "Of course you are. Only tourists and pickpockets ever get lost in this district. Lucky for you, I know the way."
Before I can say anything else, she slides in beside me—locking arms as if we're old friends—and starts walking with easy confidence. Her gait is loose, hips swaying, eyes scanning every storefront and alley as we go.
"Come on," she says, voice slipping into something playful as she guides me forward, "let's get you sorted out before you wander off and get mugged by some starving genin. I'm Anko, by the way." She leans in again—close enough that I can feel her breath through the suit's filters, though her tone stays breezy.
"So, what brings you to Konoha?" she asks, tilting her head up to look at me, eyes bright with a touch of mischief. "Just passing through, or should I get used to seeing that… shiny helmet around?"
I try to play it cool, but her confidence is a little disarming. "Honestly? I'm not sure. Might be here a while. Depends on how things work out."
Her eyes glint with amusement. "Oh? Settling in? That's brave. Not everyone lands here planning to stay. You got family nearby, or just… rolling solo?"
I shrug, trying to sound casual. "No family. It's just me, looking for somewhere safe to start over, I guess. Maybe Konoha's the place."
She hums thoughtfully. "Starting over in the big city… Not a bad plan. Konoha's got everything you could need—food, work, good company. Especially if you know the right people."
She glances at me sidelong, lips quirking up. "You know, you stick out a little. Most folks coming in are merchants or shinobi, not… whatever you are." The tone isn't mocking—more interested, maybe even a little flattering. "You planning to do business here, or just… see the sights?"
"Trade, mostly," I say. "Hoping I can make some connections. Maybe set myself up for a bit. I have access to some resources others don't."
She nods like she expected that, steering us around a pair of kids racing past with a grin. "Connections are important. Especially if you've got a little… startup capital." She laughs, but her gaze is sharp—gauging my reaction.
I just shrug. "I'll manage. I brought enough to get started. And I can get more."
She pouts playfully as we reach the bank's wide steps. "Well, aren't you mysterious? Here's the place." She doesn't let go, even as we step through the doors. Her touch is warm, familiar, and just a bit possessive.
It's quite nice, after everything.
Inside, the bank is high-ceilinged and faintly cool, all polished wood, clean floors, and the kind of quiet that comes with a lot of money changing hands. There's a bit of a line, but Anko just flashes a look at a guard—something wordless—and suddenly we're ushered to a teller at the end.
The man behind the counter is thin, in his late thirties, his hair slicked and eyes quick behind rimless spectacles. He introduces himself with a brisk bow. "Good morning, I'm Murata. Welcome to the Fire Country Banking Guild. How can we help you today?"
I clear my throat. "I'd like to open an account. Trade in some gold for ryo."
Murata's eyes light up—I guess gold's gold, no matter where you are. "Of course, of course. May I see the assets you wish to deposit?"
I open one of the inventory in my suit and pull out a single chunk of gold, about the size of a brick—clean, unmarked, obviously raw. His jaw tightens a little in surprise. "Is… is that solid?"
I nod. "I have more. Seven total. Each weighs around four and a half kilos."
Murata almost chokes, but keeps his composure. "Wonderful! Please, allow me to weigh and verify them for the record." He gestures to a set of heavy scales behind the counter. As I set out each brick, there's a hush in the bank, eyes drifting over to see what's going on.
Anko leans in so close she's practically in my lap as I sit at the client desk. She whistles, soft and low. "You sure know how to make an entrance," she murmurs, not even bothering to hide the hungry look in her eyes now.
Murata, for his part, is delighted. He checks the gold, verifies the weight and purity with a quick acid test, and then tallies up the total on a thick ledger. "This is a very… substantial sum, sir. 36,394,000 ryo. If you'll just fill out your information, we can issue you an account and identification passbook right away."
He slides me a paper...
And...
I can't write in their language.
I whisper into my helmet. "PDA, overlay the answers in Japanese, so I can trace them."
Suddenly, transparent characters fill out the blank spaces. I trace over them with the pencil provided and hope the PDA got the details right.
Murata stamps and files it all with a flourish, passing me a heavy paper account book. "Welcome to the Fire Country Banking Guild, Mr. Robinson. Your funds are secured, and you may withdraw ryo as needed at any branch."
I make sure to grab a decent chunk for walking around and stuff the coin bag in my inventory.
Anko's eyes linger on the account book disappearing into my inventory, then she drapes herself over the arm of my chair. "So, what's a mysterious, well-funded guy like you planning to do with all that money?" Her voice is playful, but there's a clear challenge there too—like she's testing boundaries.
I shrug, honestly a bit lost. "I don't know yet. Maybe look for a place to stay. Maybe invest, set up a shop or workshop. I've always wanted to build something myself, so maybe just… buy a plot of land."
She presses closer, her arm sneaking behind my back, tone dropping into something more intimate—too intimate for a casual bank meeting. "That's a great idea," she purrs. "A smart man always sets roots. Land in Konoha's a good investment." She runs her fingers across my shoulder, practically whispering. "If you ever need help picking a neighborhood, I know all the best spots. Good food, good neighbors… great company."
I swallow, feeling the heat rising beneath the suit. The pressure's more than a little obvious. "Yeah, that, uh… sounds good."
Anko beams, her eyes glittering with a mischievous promise as she practically pulls me out of my seat. "Come on, don't make me do all the work," she teases, steering me out into the sunlight, my hand now somehow planted firmly on her hip. The move feels like it should be bold, but she acts like it's the most natural thing in the world, leaning in close as we walk, her hair brushing my shoulder.
The crowds are thick outside, but Anko's energy is magnetic; people seem to part around us. She keeps up a steady stream of chatter about Konoha's neighborhoods—how close the markets are, which bakeries make the best dumplings, all the while never really letting me get a word in edgewise.
We drift right past a jewelry stall stacked with little velvet trays, the gold and gems sparkling in the late morning sun. Anko slows just a touch, giving the stand a lingering look that's just a little too obvious. She bites her lip, her fingers tracing little circles on my side as she leans in.
"You know," she purrs, "they say you can tell a lot about a man by the jewelry he gives…" She gives me a wicked side-eye, clearly waiting for me to take the bait.
I blink, flustered but not exactly opposed. "You want something?"
Her smile turns slow and sultry, her eyes flicking from the necklaces to me. "Well… maybe just a little something to remember today by. A necklace. As a lucky charm? I promise I'll make it worth your while." She leans in, dropping her voice low enough that only I can hear, "Maybe I'll let you see how it looks on me—just the necklace."
That is… direct.
Before I know it, I'm already picking through the jewelry. Anko's hand slides up my back, the warmth of her touch burning right through the suit. I spot a gold heart locket—shiny, expensive, probably not the sort of thing I'd buy for someone I just met, but right now, with her pressed this close, I'd probably buy the whole cart.
I pay for it—probably far too much—but the vendor thanks me with a bow all the same. Anko takes the necklace, flips the locket open and shut with practiced fingers, and then—without a hint of embarrassment—leans up and plants a soft kiss right on the cheek of my mask.
I can feel my face heating.
She grins like she owns the world. "You're sweet," she teases, snapping the necklace around her throat, where it glints against her collarbone. "Now, let's get you that plot of land, hmm? I know just the place to start looking."
With that, she grabs my hand—still riding high from her little show—and pulls me down the street.
The real estate office is a narrow, tidy building with floor-to-ceiling ledgers and painted maps on the walls. The man behind the desk is older, with bushy eyebrows and a suit that might once have been fashionable. Anko sweeps in like she owns the place, keeping her hand firmly laced in mine.
She gives my name before I can, then leans across the desk. "He's looking for something nice," she says, her tone turning just a little husky, "inside the wall. Lots of privacy. Big yard. Maybe in the old Uchiha district?"
The agent brightens at the mention. "We do have several available. The old Uchiha quarter has plenty of large plots, all quite secure, walled—excellent resale value now that the area's been redeveloped." He glances at my suit, then at the stack of bank ledgers I start pulling out, and smiles a little wider. "How large a plot are you thinking?"
I try to step in, keeping it reasonable. "Just… safe. Medium sized. No buildings, just the land. Enough for a house, maybe a garden or workshop. I don't need a palace."
Anko laughs, a little too loudly, pressing her body against my arm. "Medium is fine, but think of all the noise we'll make," she purrs, eyes shining. "Wouldn't want nosy neighbors listening in every time we get loud, would you?"
I flush, stumbling a little. "I—uh, well…"
She leans in, lips close to my ear, whispering, "Or maybe we'll want to 'play' outside. Or maybe," her voice drops lower, "invite some 'friends' over to 'play' with us. You wouldn't want anyone peeking, would you? Unless you like the idea of people getting a show. Letting some other man get ideas about what's his?"
Her hand slides down my back, slow and lingering. I stutter, brain short-circuiting. "F-friends? I, uh… that—maybe—privacy is good…"
She gives a sultry little laugh, eyes flashing with wicked delight. "I knew you'd come around." Then she looks at the agent. "The largest plot you've got—he'll take it."
The agent beams, flipping through his ledger until he finds the listing. "Fifteen hundred tsubo—about five thousand square meters. Secure wall, garden, even some old storage buildings. Twenty million ryo, all fees included."
Anko gives me an encouraging look, one eyebrow raised. "You can afford it, right?"
I nod, dazed. "Yeah, I—sure. I'll take it."
She beams I feel a smack on my ass—hard enough, I actually yelp. She leans up and murmurs, "Good boy."
Oh geeze.
I barely hear the agent finalize the paperwork, stamp the deed, and hand me a thick folder of keys, maps, and permits. Anko loops her arm through mine again, grinning like a cat that caught a canary.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize I just dropped more than half my money on a plot of land I'd not seen.
But with Anko pressed against me, laughing and leading the way, I can't bring myself to regret it.
The old Uchiha district is quiet. Not abandoned—just quieter than the rest of Konoha, with a kind of emptiness that sinks into the earth. The streets are wide, lined with mossy stones and ancient trees, but the air carries something heavier, a hush that clings to the shadows. My lot itself is enormous by village standards—a long rectangle set back behind low stone walls, wild grass and thick woods crowding the perimeter.
Anko walks at my side, humming as she flips through the thick folder of deeds and maps, every step oozing that same overconfident ease. "It used to be a big house, you know. Real impressive before it burned down. The Uchiha clan built this district from scratch—always had the best land, the best gardens, the best everything."
She glances at me sidelong, a smirk curling on her lips, but there's something sharp in her eyes for a moment. "Didn't do them much good, though. The whole family got wiped out by one of their own—Itachi, the prodigy son. Happened all in one night. They say he didn't even break a sweat." She shrugs, but her tone is a little heavier. "Leaves a bad taste in people's mouths. That's why the land's been empty this long. People still think it's unlucky, I guess."
I glance around, taking in the barren dirt patch where the house once stood, the rest of the property tangled with waist-high grass and scrubby woods. There's a faint scorch mark on a stretch of stone—old, but still visible.
"Damn," I say, not sure what else to offer.
Anko looks at me for just a second, and her smile tightens, almost imperceptibly. "Where did you get all of that gold, anyway?" she asks, voice light but probing.
I shrug, keeping my tone casual. "Don't worry, it's not too hard for me to get."
She seems to hesitate—something flickers across her expression, not quite irritation but close. Then, just as quickly, it's gone, replaced by another teasing grin. "Well, aren't you resourceful," she purrs, pressing a little closer.
We stand in the middle of the plot—nothing but a wide expanse of packed earth where a mansion used to be, with grass and wildflowers taking over the rest. The only evidence of what once stood here is the faint outline of a foundation, half-swallowed by weeds, and a couple of old training dummies falling apart by a crumbling fence.
Anko looks around, hands on her hips. "The Yard's pretty big. Uchiha's all trained their kids in house before the academy, or so I've heard. It's how most clans do it." She glances at me, tilting her head, voice syrupy again. "If you want, I can show you the best lumber merchants in town—and I know a few workers who'd be happy to build anything you want." She lets her fingers brush my arm, all promises and hints.
I shake my head. "Thanks, but that won't be necessary. I like to build things myself. Quicker that way."
Anko tilts her head, lips curving into a knowing smirk. "Oh? Hands-on type, huh? I could get used to that." She sidles closer, voice dropping low as she leans in, her hand sliding up my arm to my collar. "So… how's a guy like you going to build a whole house with just these?" She squeezes my bicep playfully, but there's calculation in her eyes—a predator's patience behind the playful tease.
I shift, trying not to look nervous. I want to use the habitat builder, but just whipping out advanced tech in front of a ninja seems like a bad idea. Still, Anko's presence is… distracting. She senses my hesitation, latching onto it instantly.
"Oh?" she purrs. "You've got a secret, don't you? Something fun?" Her hand slides up to my helmet, fingers searching the seals. I try to shift away, but she's relentless—her other hand is already brushing my hip, her laugh low and warm in my ear. "You can show me," she teases, voice velvet. "I'm very good with secrets."
Her nails trace along the seal line of my helmet, eyes never leaving mine. The way she studies my gear is half curiosity, half hunger—a look that says she's sniffed out something interesting, and she wants it.
Before I can react, her fingers twist along the helmet's collar, and there's a soft click. The seals disengage. I barely have time to realize what's happening before she tugs the helmet up and off, my hair spilling out in the cool Konoha air.
I blink in shock. "When did you—"
But before I can finish, her lips press to mine, hot and insistent, hands sliding up my jaw. Her body's pressed flush, tongue teasing, and whatever she's murmuring is completely lost on me—without the helmet's translation, her words are a soft, meaningless tumble. I try to protest, but she just presses in harder, laughter vibrating through her chest as she leans into me, more demanding now.
I manage a muffled, "W-Wait—" in English, but it only seems to egg her on. Her hands slip down, fingers working at the belt of my suit with intent that's impossible to misread.
I half heartedly try to pull away, reaching for my helmet, but she keeps up the teasing, her tone a sultry murmur in a language I can't understand—one hand drifting beneath my shirt, the other still holding my helmet just out of reach. She's relentless, all heat and coaxing and playful threat. There's a glint in her eyes—she wants to see exactly what I'm hiding, and she's not above using every trick in the book.
Finally, she lets me snatch the helmet back. I jam it on, fingers fumbling at the seals. As soon as the HUD flickers to life, her voice becomes clear again, purring right in my ear:
"Can you only talk with that thing on?"
I pant, catching my breath, nodding. "Y-Yeah. At least in your language, for now."
She steps back just enough to watch my face, a slow, sly smile spreading across her lips. "Then show me what you're hiding, builder boy. I promise I'll be… impressed."
Her challenge hangs in the air, equal parts dare and demand.
"W-Well..."
That was rather nice.
I hesitate only a second, then pull the habitat builder from my inventory.
I step to the edge of the lot, aiming the builder at the empty ground. The nanite projector whirs, projecting scaffolding in the air: a rectangle, lines of glowing blue, shimmering as the materials pull from my inventory and lock into place. Anko's eyes go wide as she sees the blue projection flicker into existence.
A low hum, and the nanites swarm—drawing titanium and lead from nothing, assembling the foundation in seconds. Metal and composite snap together with impossible speed. Then the multipurpose room forms: steel ribs, glass, poly-alloy, all slotting together in a cyclone of light and motion. Within moments, the bare foundation is topped by a full, seamless structure, gleaming in the morning sun.
Anko stares, mouth slightly open. She whistles, low and long, eyebrows shooting up as she circles the new room, running her hand over the smooth, seamless walls. "Damn, Ryley… you weren't kidding. That's fast."
"Yeah," I say, watching her inspect the work. "It's... a technique from my homeland."
It's cloudy, but I slap a solar panel on top and seal a hatch into the side wall, the builder's nanites buzzing quietly as glass and composite set into place. The pressure lock hisses open and shut as I step inside, boots echoing on bare metal.
"Welcome aboard, Captain."
The place smells of new polymer and ozone—home, in a way nothing else in this world is.
First things first: survival. I snap together a fabricator on the inner wall, its emitter flickering to life with a familiar blue glow. Then a bioreactor takes shape in the center, already humming, ready for whatever fuel I can scrounge up. The power hums through the base as I put some stinging nettle in, lights flickering on, temperature stabilizing.
Thank god. It's hot out there.
It's only when I've set everything up that I realize it's been almost five minutes since I've heard Anko's relentless teasing. The silence is… weird.
I glance over my shoulder, out through the hatch's glass.
She's there, outside—forehead protector pressed to the glass, eyes wide and full of exaggerated, pouty longing. The look she gives me is pure puppy dog: lower lip out, big brown eyes shimmering in sadness. She tugs at the door like a kid begging to be let in.
Then, without warning, her expression shifts. Mischief sparks behind her eyes, and she grins, dragging her tongue slowly, deliberately along the glass, fogging it up before leaning forward—her chest squishing against the panel in a way that's very much not accidental.
She mouths something—can't hear it through the glass, but the intent is clear enough. I shake my head, half-laughing, half-panicked, and mutter, "PDA, permit Anko via genetic identification. Rank: Ensign. No other permissions."
"Rank: Captain, Temporary. Anko, Rank: Ensign, Temporary. Assigned."
With a soft beep and a hiss, the hatch slides open. Anko doesn't miss a beat—she saunters in, hips swaying, and immediately starts poking around.
"Welcome aboard, Ensign."
She scrunched her nose, looking around. Then runs her fingers over the bioreactor, taps at the fabricator, inspects the seamless metalwork of the walls.
She circles the room, letting her hand linger on everything she passes, eyes darting between the hum of the bioreactor and the quiet pulse of the fabricator. Her curiosity is naked, but she covers it with sly little remarks, pressing in closer than necessary, acting every bit the cat in someone else's kitchen.
"So," she says, voice purring as she drags a finger along the smooth surface of the fabricator, "let's hear it. What do these do? You just… whip out that little gadget and poof—house, power, fresh air? Some kind of jutsu?" Her lips curl into a playful smirk, but the sharpness in her gaze betrays the seriousness of her questions.
I lean against the wall, arms crossed, trying to sound bored. "Close. The stuff really isn't all that complicated. That?" I nod to the bioreactor. "Just a generator. Keeps the lights on. Standard."
She taps it, listening to the low hum. "Doesn't look standard. And this?" She flicks the fabricator with a knuckle.
"Tool bench," I say, keeping it vague. "Multi-purpose. Does what I need."
She gives me a look—one eyebrow arched, mouth tugging at the edge of a smile. "You say that, but you just built a whole building out of thin air." She runs her hand along the seamless join where the floor meets the wall. "This isn't wood, or stone. It's heavy. And you didn't haul any of it in."
I shrug, trying not to give anything away. "It's kept in… storage. Pull out what I need, when I need it." I try to sound like it's nothing special.
She leans in, letting her hair brush my arm, her voice softening. "A seal, then? Storage scroll?" She's fishing, pressing for details with each word, a glimmer of hope in her eyes that I'll slip.
"Something like that," I hedge, not meeting her eyes.
She lets it go—for now. Instead, she looks around the multipurpose room, lips pursed. "It's a little cramped, though, don't you think?" She trails her fingers along the wall, eyeing the ceiling. "You got a way to… make it bigger?"
I scroll through the new blueprints on my HUD, stopping at one I haven't seen before—Large Room. Got it when I became 'Captain', I guess. I frown at the requirements: 2 plasteel ingots… which means I need more titanium than I've got in storage. I sigh and look up. "Actually… I could. But I'm short on materials. I need a bunch of titanium. Know where I can buy it?"
Anko's eyes light up, half-amused, half-suspicious.
She cocks her head, that sly smile never leaving her lips. "Titanium? What's that—some kind of fancy iron?"
I almost tell her it's a basic construction metal, but bite it back. Titanium isn't naturally found in pure form; even on my home planet, it's mostly refined from ores. These guys won't have it. The PDA always just calls it "titanium" for simplicity, but really, the fabricator's been isolating it from whatever I feed it—scrap from the Aurora and the occasional chunk of rutile or ilmenite.
Out loud, I just say, "Not exactly. I need it for structure. Strong, light, doesn't rust."
She shrugs, glancing around the room again. "Well, we don't use that here. Steel, maybe. Or chakra metal, if you want to splurge and get mugged. But titanium? Never heard of it. Where do you get it?"
I guess I need to give a little information to get the minerals in...
"Usually from certain kinds of rock—rutile, ilmenite, that sort of thing. Or, uh, shipwrecks." I add the last part dryly, thinking of the Aurora. "Know anyone who deals in rutile or ilmenite?"
Anko laughs, genuine and sharp. "Those rocks? Not worth much. Most merchants don't bother. And nobody just has piles of it sitting around. You'd have to put out a mission for that. Most likely D-rank, maaaybe C-rank if you want it quick and in bulk."
I nod, keeping my tone careful. "How's that work?"
She starts leading me toward the door, beckoning me to follow. "Mission office handles everything. You say what you want, offer a reward, and the ninja or genin teams who need the cash take the job. For rocks? You could get a couple of kids to haul it in for you. Unless you want a whole mountain, then you're hiring a squad."
I pause at the entrance, checking my PDA's currency conversion. After buying the land and that locket she picked out, I'm sitting on:
Starting funds: 36,394,000 ryo
Land purchase: -20,000,000 ryo
Heart locket: -39,600 ryo
Remaining: 16,354,400 ryo
Not exactly poor, but I'm hemorrhaging money at an alarming rate. "What's the going rate for a mission like that?" I ask.
She considers, all business now. "If you just want a few carts of rutile or ilmenite, call it 10,000 to 50,000 ryo for a D-rank. You could put it up as a C-rank if you're in a hurry, bump it from 30,000 to 100,000, get a chunin team on it. Depends how fast and how much you want. Don't expect top-tier service—most ninja want missions with more excitement than hauling rocks."
She grins. "Of course, if you make it interesting—say, 'unusual ores, special request'—you'll get more bites. Especially if you pay cash up front."
She swings the hatch open and beckons me out into the sunlight. "Come on, let's get your rock hunt posted. Mission office is just this way."
The walk to the mission office isn't long, but Anko makes a show of it, swinging her hips and tossing glances over her shoulder. The streets are busy—shinobi everywhere, civilians too, but it's obvious who owns the roads. I get more than a few looks, probably because I'm the only one in a full-body suit. Anko doesn't care. She just drags me on like we've done this a thousand times.
The mission office turns out to be in the biggest building in town, all white walls and red tile, banners fluttering at the top. Feels important, though I doubt it's anything like the Alterra administration offices. Inside, it's a blend of wood and paper, sunlight slanting in through high windows. Anko waves at the receptionist like she owns the place.
I fill out a simple paper form—description, mineral types, reward offered, delivery instructions. The PDA is quietly translating the script for me, letting me copy it in blocky, foreign letters. When I look up, Anko's vanished.
I... Hope she comes back.
A ninja with a white armband takes my paperwork, scanning it with a bored eye. "We'll post your mission," he says, "This'll be quick. Easy stuff like this feeds our genins. Usually we'll come get you, but we should have this out in a few minutes, so don't stray too far."
"Appreciate it," I say, trying to sound like I do this every day. I hand over the up-front reward—30,000 ryo in cash, marked as 'special request, no substitutions.' My hand barely trembles.
I step back from the counter, glancing around for Anko. She appears behind me as soon as I turn, grinning wide like she just pulled a prank. She slides her arm through mine.
"Actually, while we're here…" she says, her tone suddenly airy, "the Fire Shadow wants to meet you."
I blink. "The… what? Fire Shadow?"
She laughs, so sharp and sudden it bounces off the walls. A couple people turn, but she doesn't care. "You know, the Fire Shadow," she repeats, like that should mean something.
I give her a blank stare, genuinely lost. "Is that… is he one of your friends?"
For a second she looks at me blankly. Then she looks like she's about to double over, holding in a giggle with visible effort. "Y-yeah," she finally manages, biting her lip. "You could say that. He's friends with everyone. C'mon, you gotta see him."
I let her lead me deeper into the building, up a wide staircase and through a pair of paper-paneled doors. Inside, there's a spacious office with scrolls, a pipe rack, and enough paperwork to drown a small village. Sunlight pools on the tatami mats, and sitting behind the desk is an old man with a kindly face and deep, wise lines. His robes are white and red, his hat resting off to the side. He looks up when Anko breezes in.
"Warning: Chakra radiation rising."
Ooooh, don't like that.
"Old man!" Anko calls, dropping all pretense. She's suddenly ten years younger, grinning with all her teeth. "Brought you someone interesting."
The old man smiles, eyes crinkling with amusement as he sets his pipe aside. "Well now, Anko, it's not every day you visit me just to introduce a friend." His voice is warm, familiar, and utterly unthreatening. "Welcome, young man. Don't feel too worried, the only trouble you'll find here is the kind you make for yourself." He chuckles, waving a hand as if to brush aside any tension.
Well, he seems harmless. And Chakra has only helped my body... so far.
I just nod, feeling weirdly at ease in the big, bright room. I glance around—scrolls everywhere, that old-school paper-and-ink smell, the soft clack of his pipe as he rests it on a tray.
The old man raises one bushy eyebrow at how relaxed I am. He doesn't say anything about it, just leans back a little, sizing me up. His voice is kindly, but there's a glint of something sharper under the surface.
"I just wanted to meet the newest landowner in the Uchiha district, Ryley," he says, casually.
He knows my name?
I blink. "You already know about that?"
His lips twitch. "I think you'll find word travels fast in this village."
"Yeah, I noticed. I, uh, recently got… displaced from my home, so I figured I needed to settle down somewhere. This seemed as good a place as any."
He nods thoughtfully, fingers drumming the desk. "I hope it wasn't anything criminal?" There's a lilt to his voice, almost playful, but his eyes linger.
I just shake my head, straightforward. "No, nothing like that. My ship was destroyed out at sea. I'm just looking for a fresh start, that's all."
He gives a long, sympathetic hum. "That's quite unfortunate. Shipwrecks can be difficult to recover from, especially far from home."
"Yeah, but it's fine." I try for a shrug. "I've got some connections here—people who can get me what I need, quick." It's a total bluff, but it's all I have.
His eyes narrow, just a touch. "And yet you put in a mission for rutile and ilmenite?"
I nod. "Yeah, it's just faster to do it that way. Otherwise, I'd have to hit the ocean again, and it's not really worth it for those ores."
There's a beat as he studies me, silent. He taps his pipe against the tray, gentle, rhythmic. "And what exactly are you planning to build with all these unusual materials?"
I shrug. "Just upgrading my house, really. I like things sturdy. Keeps the weather out."
He leans forward. "No other intentions for these minerals? No plans to craft and sell them to any… less reputable parties?"
"Nope."
He glances at Anko, who's grinning like she's watching her favorite show. "I see. And these… connections you mentioned—anyone we might know?"
"Probably not. Still getting to know people myself."
He gives a deep, thoughtful hum, letting the silence hang between us for a moment. The room feels still, like he's waiting for me to crack, but I just sit there, hands in my lap.
At last, he smiles, warm as before. "Well, you seem like an upright young man. I see no reason to keep you any longer."
I stand, awkward but earnest. "Well, it was nice to meet you. Thanks for your time." I stick my hand out for a shake.
For a second, he just looks at my hand, surprise flickering across his face. Then he chuckles, a low, grandfatherly sound, and takes it, giving a surprisingly firm handshake.
Behind me, Anko is trying not to burst out laughing, her whole body shaking with the effort. I nod a thanks and follow her out.
As soon as the door shuts, she breaks, clutching her sides, laughter echoing down the hallway. "Oh—oh gods, you just—you shook his hand—like he was just some old dude—!"
I just shrug, totally lost but smiling. "Nice guy."
She howls even harder, tears streaming down her face, dragging me along by the arm as we walk.
We make our way back through the winding halls—Anko still wiping tears from her eyes, occasionally snorting with laughter. She's finally settling down by the time we hit the mission office again.
There's a different sort of crowd at the counter now: a green-clad man with one of the most committed bowl cuts I've ever seen, absolutely radiating energy even just standing still. With him, a kid who's basically a mini version of himself, right down to the blocky eyebrows and the eager posture. Behind them, a girl with dark hair pulled up into twin buns, and a fourth, older boy with long black hair and those weird, cloudy, pupilless eyes that keep pulling my gaze.
The guy at the mission counter nods at me, and immediately the green man bounds over, grinning from ear to ear.
"Ah! You must be our NOBLE CLIENT!" He thrusts a fist skyward with such vigor I half-expect confetti. "I am Might Guy, Konoha's Blue Beast, and this is my YOUTHFUL TEAM!" He throws his thumb up, beaming. "We are HONORED to accept your mineral retrieval mission!"
The mini-me pops up beside him, posture rigid and respectful. "It is an honor to assist you, sir! We shall retrieve these ores with the full power of youth!"
The girl with the buns gives a polite little bow. "We'll get exactly what you need," she says, calm and businesslike.
The boy with the strange eyes just stares, expression unreadable. I can't help flicking my gaze to his eyes, then quickly looking away again. It's just… Is he blind?
Guy leans in, hands on his hips. Tone calmer than before. "Before we depart, are there any special requirements for this ore? Purity? Specific qualities?"
The PDA chimes in my ear:
"Recommend specimens with high titanium content. Rutile crystals are typically reddish and transparent; ilmenite is black with a metallic luster. Both should be dense, heavy for their size, without much embedded sand or clay. Look for well-formed crystals or ore with minimal weathering."
I repeat the essentials, hoping it doesn't sound too weird. "Yeah, so… for rutile, look for reddish, glassy crystals—dense, clean, no cracks. Ilmenite's black, kind of metallic-looking, also heavy for its size. Basically, the heavier and purer the better, not just random rocks."
Guy slaps his fist into his palm with the force of a cannon, absolutely lighting up. "ALRIGHT! (Yosh!)" Even through the helmet's sound-damping, I can hear him when he yells his affirmation.
"Then it is decided!" he roars, already vibrating with purpose. "If I cannot gather fifty kilograms of rutile and ilmenite—EACH!—I shall run fifty laps around Konoha ON MY HANDS!"
I blink. "Uh…"
"YOU'RE RIGHT!" he gasps, eyes shining with the fiery conviction of a thousand motivational posters. "For failing such a simple task—it shall be five hundred laps! WITH MY LARGEST BOULDER! That is the ONLY way to honor the eternal flames of youth burning within us!"
"YES, GAI SENSEI!" Lee shouts from behind him, fists clenched, tears sparkling in his eyes like the minerals they're supposed to be looking for. "I will join you, every step of the way!"
Guy turns, fire practically blazing in his eyes. "Lee!"
Lee meets his gaze, equally intense. "Guy-sensei!"
"LEE!"
"GUY-SENSEI!"
Neji just pinches the bridge of his nose, "Idiots," he mutters. Tenten sighs hard, her shoulders droop, but she trudges out behind them anyway, resigned to her fate.
I just stand there for a second, watching them march off. From their muscles, I think they might actually do it.
I have no idea what I just witnessed. Part of me thinks they seem nice. The rest is… deeply confused.
Anko leans close as we watch them go, her tone all sly mischief. "Careful, you keep staring at Neji one like that, people are gonna think you're interested." She flashes a grin, elbowing me lightly in the ribs.
I stammer, feeling my face heat up, "Wh—no! I wasn't—I mean, he just—his eyes, I—uh, is he… is he blind or something? How does he even do missions like that?"
Anko barks out a laugh, way too loud for the hallway. "Blind? That's a good one." She shakes her head, wiping at her eyes again. "He's the least blind person in this whole village. He's a Hyūga. You know—Bloodline Limit, 'White Eye'? That's what gives him those spooky eyes. Lets him see three hundred and sixty degrees."
I stare at her, trying to wrap my head around it. "Wait—behind his head? How does that even work?"
She grins, loving every second of this. "Yep. Through walls, too. Through, uh… a lot of things, actually." She lowers her voice, like she's sharing the best secret in the village. "They say Hyūga women always end up with well-endowed partners, and it's not a coincidence. Some of the ninja gals even try to poach the men Hyūga girls go after. Cuz, well, you know. Gotta compete with see-through vision."
My face goes hot under the helmet. "Uh—I—huh. Okay, that's…wow."
Anko just laughs, absolutely delighted. She tugs at my arm, leading me toward the exit. "Relax. Neji's not going to see anything you don't want him to. At least, not today." She winks, then steps back, stretching her arms behind her head.
"Well, this was fun," she says, suddenly all business again. "But I actually have work to do, so I'll see you later."
"Oh?" I ask, maybe a little too quickly, "Uh, how do I find you?"
She grins, that wicked, fanged smile making another appearance. "You don't. But don't worry, I know where you live." She taps a finger to her temple, gives me a two-fingered salute, and then, with a little twist and a blur of motion, she's just gone. No puff of smoke, no special effects—just vanished, like she was never there.
I'm left standing in the entryway, still blushing, still a little lost, watching the sun spill in through the paper screens and wondering if every day here is going to be this weird.
I wander the village. My feet take me wherever the crowd thins. Kids laughing, the clack of sandals on stone, someone hawking roasted chestnuts. A blur of color and life I'm not part of.
Eventually, the smell of grilled meat drags me in. A barbecue place, tucked between two tea shops. Smoky, rich air pours out from the windows. It smells familiar enough. Safe.
I sit at a small corner table outside, back to the wall. I unseal my mask and set it beside me. The grill in the center sizzles gently as I place thin strips of meat across it with tongs. Beside me, a group of older ninja sit together—two men and a woman, all lean and worn around the edges. They laugh between bites, elbow each other, talk with that easy comfort of people who've bled together.
I watch them as I chew, not listening to the words—just the shape of them. That rhythm of belonging.
I finish eating slowly, because I have nowhere else to be.
I drift through the streets afterward, not really thinking. The village is softer now in the late-day light—warmer, golden. The rooftops glow, the people move a little slower.
Then I see her.
Spoiler: Crying
A small girl standing off to the side of the road, near a low wooden fence. Twelve, maybe. Pale eyes, pale skin, and soft dark blue hair cut in a neat bob with little straight bangs. A Hyuga, like that Neji kid. She's hugging her arms to herself like she's trying to disappear. Her jacket looks slightly too big for her—white and lavender, with the sleeves bunched up around her hands. Her eyes are full of tears, and her lower lip is trembling as she sniffles quietly, looking down at the dirt like it personally wronged her.
She doesn't notice the people walking past. And worse—none of them stop. She's just another shape in the background, too small and quiet to matter.
Poor baby.
I hesitate.
This is the moment—the one all men understand. You see a child crying, and something inside says do something. But right behind it comes the other voice. What if someone sees? What if I look like some creep? What if they think I'm trying something?
But she's just a kid. And she's crying like her whole world just collapsed.
So I walk over, slow, hands visible, trying not to look like anything but a guy in a weird suit with too much empathy. I stop a few steps away and crouch slightly to her level.
"Hey…" I say gently. "You okay?"
She startles a little and turns her head toward me. Her eyes are wide, glossy, and even more pale than I thought—almost white. She sniffles, her voice barely a whisper.
"I-I'm f-fine."
Her bottom lip is trembling harder now, like holding it in is actually hurting.
I lower my voice. "You sure? You look kinda… not fine."
She bites her lip and looks down again. She doesn't say anything for a long moment. Then—quietly, halting—she speaks.
"I… I graduated today."
I blink, a little confused, but nod. "That's… that's great, right?"
Her head gives a tiny shake. Then she whispers, "I w-wasn't the top girl in the class."
Another sniffle. Her hands ball up into the too-long sleeves.
"I wanted my father to… to say he was proud of me. That I did good. But he just…"
Her breath hitches. She tries to fight it back. It doesn't work.
"He scolded me. Said I was too soft. That the top kunoichi was stronger. He said… it's not enough just to pass… That I shamed our family..."
Her voice breaks. She buries her face in her sleeves and starts to cry in full—quiet, ashamed, like even her sadness is something she's not supposed to have. Like she's apologizing just for existing.
Something in me twists hard.
I don't know what kind of parent looks at a little girl who just graduated and belittles her for it.
I shake my head, "Well, your father sounds like a pretty awful dad."
She jolts slightly, looking up through tear-blurred eyes, instantly defensive despite the hurt written clearly across her face. "N-no, he's not—he's just, he expects m-more from me, because—"
I catch myself quickly, guilt pulling at me. "Sorry—I shouldn't say bad things about your dad. It's just... Fathers are supposed to celebrate when their kids accomplish something great like this, not tear them down for it."
She sniffles softly, eyes back downcast. "I—I'm sure he… loves me, in h-his own way."
My heart sinks. It hurts seeing a kid that young, eyes filled with tears, trying to rationalize the pain her own parent has caused her. She looks so small in that oversized jacket, trying so hard to hold herself together.
I straighten suddenly, determination swelling in me. "You know what? No. Come on—we're going for ice cream."
She jumps a little, startled, pale eyes wide and uncertain. "W-what? W-why?"
I cross my arms dramatically, trying to look very serious. "Because that's what you do when you achieve something. You celebrate. And I won't have you missing out on that just because your dad's a—" Little fucker. But I can't say that. I quickly pick something softer. "...sourpuss." I soften my voice again, concerned I might've overwhelmed her. "Or… do you not like ice cream? We could get something else."
She shuffles her feet shyly, blushing softly beneath her tearstained cheeks. "N-no… I do… I do like ice cream…"
"Great!" I declare cheerfully, turning to lead the way. "Then let's go celebrate."
I stride forward, full of purpose, before realizing she isn't moving. When I glance back, she jumps a little, startled again, and quickly hurries to catch up, eyes apologetic. "S-sorry…!"
I keep my voice soft, smiling gently behind my helmet. "Hey, no apologizing, okay? Today's your day—you've earned it."
She flushes brighter, ducking her head and mumbling softly, "S-Sorry…"
I chuckle lightly, warmth spreading through my chest as I guide her gently forward.
"Alright. We'll work on that."
We make our way down the lane, sunlight spilling over the rooftops. Hinata walks a half-step behind me, still sniffling a little, but less than before. I spot a little shop with pastel paper lanterns and a painted sign overlayed with something I can read—ice cream, in big cheerful characters.
Inside, the place is cool and bright, all white tile and the sweet, familiar scent of sugar. There's a rainbow of flavors in the glass case, and Hinata's eyes go wide. She steps up on her tiptoes, studying the choices, all other troubles forgotten for a moment.
Her face lights up in a way that hits me straight in the heart—like I've handed her a slice of the sun. She points, shy but excited, at a scoop of pale purple. "C-can I have that one… please?"
Before she can fumble for coins, I beat her to the counter, already paying. "Nope, come on, I've got it. You're the guest of honor."
She hesitates, then nods, accepting the cone with both hands like it's something precious. "Th-thank you…" she whispers, barely audible as she licks at the melting treat, eyes sparkling.
I take a seat across from her, pulling up my helmet, just enough to see out of and eat. The cool air touches my face. Watching her enjoy her ice cream, I feel a strange, unexpected warmth. It's silly, but it feels like maybe the day isn't so bad after all.
I realize I never actually introduced myself. "Oh—right. I never got your name."
She freezes mid-lick, eyes wide, locked on me, as if she's forgotten how to speak. Then, with a little breath, she straightens, almost rehearsed. "I'm… H-Hinata. Hinata Hyūga. O-Official shinobi of Konoha." She manages a tiny, shy smile—proud, maybe for the first time all day.
I grin, giving her a small, respectful nod. "Well, Hinata Hyūga, it's nice to meet you. I'm Ryley Robinson. Non-Essential Systems Maintenance Chief… for Alterra."
She tilts her head, curious despite herself. "Alterra? Um… what's Alterra, if… i-if you don't mind me asking?" She flinches at her own question, like she's expecting trouble just for asking.
I wave it off, keeping my voice soft. "It's a big company from my homeland. Very far from here. Nothing as exciting as being a ninja, trust me."
Except getting stranded on alien planets, I guess.
She nods, polite as ever. "Oh, t-that's… nice." Her words are quiet, gentle—she really does mean it, even if I can tell she doesn't quite understand what I do.
I lean forward a little, chin in my hand. "So… what did you graduate from? School?"
She nods quickly, her little smile growing. "Um, the Ninja Academy. It's… it's where children learn to become shinobi. We study jutsu, chakra control, taijutsu, and, um… all sorts of things." She glances down at her hands, gathering courage. "It's hard, sometimes. But… I wanted to protect people."
I nod, impressed. "Sounds like it's not easy. You must be really tough."
She blushes again, a little more color in her cheeks as she focuses on her ice cream.
I can't help but grin at her, watching the way she clings to the cone with both hands, shoulders hunching in that small way kids do when they're nervous or happy. "You know, kiddo, you should be proud of yourself. Finishing something hard is way more important than being first."
She fidgets, her cheeks pink, and tries to hide a little smile behind the rim of her cone. "Th-thank you…"
She sneaks glances at me, studying my face like she's memorizing every line. Then she musters her courage and asks, "W-what are you doing in Konoha? I-I mean, I've never seen you around before, so… you must be new, right?"
I chuckle, leaning back in the chair, stretching a little. "Yeah, the suit probably gives it away, huh? I just moved here, actually. Been in the village for maybe a week."
She lights up a bit at that, scooting a little closer across the table. "W-where are you staying?" The question comes out rushed, and she nearly drops her ice cream, scrambling to catch it.
I laugh. "I'm over in the Uchiha district now. Got a little plot of land, building a house." I say it casually, but she listens like it's the most important thing in the world.
She nods, taking a careful, thoughtful lick. "D-do you have any friends? Or… family? Or anyone here?" Her eyes flick up at me, quick, searching.
I shake my head, thinking about it. "No family, not here anyway. I... lost touch with everyone else a while back." I give her a half-smile. "I did make a friend recently though—Anko. She's been showing me around." I catch a quick shadow flicker across her face at the mention of Anko, her lips tightening for a second, but it's gone just as fast. She has a polite smile again, but there's a new focus behind her eyes.
She licks at the ice cream a bit more, then looks up again, even more shy than before. "U-um, what's your favorite food?"
I think for a second, pretending to be very serious. "Probably… cheesecake. Or, if I'm being honest, just about anything sweet."
Her eyes go bright at that. "I—I like cinnamon rolls. The ones from the bakery on the main street. They're really good… Um… m-maybe you could try them next time we meet, if you want…" Her voice trails off, and she stares at the table, fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve.
I give her a soft smile. "I'd like that. Cinnamon rolls it is. Next time, you pick the place."
She fidgets, obviously pleased. For a moment, it's just the two of us, the world small and simple. A kid with ice cream and a guy who needed something good to happen today.
"You know, you ask a lot of questions for someone who just graduated," I tease.
She straightens, a little defensive but determined. "I-I'm sorry. W-We were trained to gather intelligence," she says, almost quoting someone. "It's important to know about… um… people who matter."
I can't help but laugh. "Well, I'm glad I matter enough to interrogate."
She blushes furiously, but she doesn't hide behind her hair this time. She just beams at me, ice cream almost forgotten in her hand.
The late afternoon sun slants through the windows. I look down at my empty cup, then back at her. "Alright, kiddo—your day. What do you want to do next?"
She fiddles with her ice cream, thinking hard. After a moment, her eyes light up. "C-can we… feed the koi?" She glances up, hopeful. "There's a pond… um, by the old shrine. I always wanted to—" She cuts herself off, then nods quickly, determined. "I'd like to go."
"Sounds good," I say, standing and stretching. "Lead the way."
We walk side by side through narrow village streets, the crowd thinning as we turn toward quieter parts of town. She walks closer now, not quite touching, but not shying away either. At the old shrine, the koi pond glitters in the dappled light, water lilies blooming along the edges.
I buy Hinata a tiny paper bag of feed from a little stall, she hands me half without a word. She kneels on the edge of the stone walkway, giggling when the koi jostle and swirl for the food. When one bold fish splashes her, she glances at me, checking to see if I noticed, and giggles before tossing another handful of pellets.
After the pond, she wants to visit the wish board, a wooden frame hung with hundreds of tiny prayer plaques. We write little wishes. She won't let me see it, determined to have it come true.
Then she tugs at my sleeve, leading me through the winding side streets toward a street festival setting up for the evening. There are lanterns strung overhead, paper streamers, the scent of sweet dango and takoyaki in the air. We buy a skewer each, share a little plate of sugar-dusted mochi, and she tries goldfish scooping at a stall, tongue sticking out in concentration as she nearly nets one before the paper breaks.
The sun slips lower, turning the world gold. At one point she shyly asks if we can visit the old bookstore, and she spends a long, contented moment paging through storybooks she probably hasn't looked at since she was very small. She shows me her favorite, a battered old copy with a rabbit on the cover.
We end up sitting on the edge of the bridge as the lanterns are lit, watching their reflections in the water. Hinata swings her feet, humming a little tune to herself. For a long while, neither of us talks. It's quiet, easy, the best kind of silence.
I glance over. She's smiling to herself, cheeks still a little pink, fingers brushing the ribbon of the paper bag she's kept from the koi pond. The kid who was crying this afternoon is gone, at least for now—replaced by a girl just being a kid, safe and proud in her own village.
As the lanterns burn brighter and the crowds thin, I check the time. "Well, kiddo, I guess it's about time for you to head home, huh?"
The words land like a stone. She flinches, shoulders curling inward, all the happiness of the day shrinking back in an instant. "Y-yeah," she mumbles, eyes dropping to her shoes. "I guess so…"
I watch her a moment, worry prickling at the back of my mind. "You sure you're okay? Your dad—he doesn't… I mean, he doesn't hurt you or anything, right?"
Her head snaps up, alarmed. "No! N-no, nothing like that! He just… expects more from me, that's all." She tries for a brave little smile, but it wobbles.
I nod, half accepting her answer. "Alright. Still, I'll walk you home." I try for a light tone, and she nods, falling into step at my side as we head back through the village.
The Hyūga compound looms ahead, big and quiet and a little intimidating with its high white walls and neat gravel paths. We stop at the front gate, lantern light spilling out over the stones.
I turn to her, giving her a little smile. "Is this you?"
She hesitates, then nods. She clutches the paper bag with both hands, twisting the ribbon around her fingers. Then she touches her pointer fingers together, glancing up at me with that shy, hopeful look. "Um… c-can I… um, see you again? I mean, if that's okay…"
I grin, shaking my head fondly. "Anytime, kiddo. Just come find me. I'll be around. Uchiha district, remember? Big metal hut, can't miss it."
She lights up, bright and happy again. "O-okay! I will!" She gives me a quick, awkward bow, then waves, small and earnest, as she slips through the gate.
I watch her go, standing there a moment longer than I mean to. Then I turn and make my way back through the quiet streets, the night cool and sweet, feeling lighter than I have in a long, long time.
By the time I make it back to my new "home," the sky is deep indigo, the streets mostly empty except for a few cats and the distant sound of someone shutting up a stall for the night. My plot is easy to find—mostly because it's still the only chunk of land with a gleaming metal dome sitting awkwardly on the corner, surrounded by empty dirt and the occasional weed.
I stand in the open hatch for a moment, letting the cool night air follow me in. It's quiet. Just my own breath and the soft thrum of the reactor.
Inside, it's all function: plain metal walls, faint echo, the faint hum of oxygen filters cycling. No decorations, no chairs. No bed.
That last part hits me as I look around, bone tired. I sigh, pulling my sleeping bag out of my inventory.
I spread it out beside the fabricator, kicking off my boots and crawling in, back cracking as I settle in. The lights dim themselves, shadows stretching up the walls. I wish I'd remembered to pick up a mattress, or at least a cushion, while I was out today. Next time, maybe.
I lie there, staring at the ceiling for a while, letting the weight of the day settle. Faces flicker in my mind—Hinata's shy smile, the boisterous ninja team, Anko's mischievous grin, the old man's knowing eyes. It all feels unreal, a half-remembered dream.
But the quiet is good. The exhaustion is real.
Sleep comes quick, heavy and dreamless.
/ VITAL SIGNS: ELEVATED/
/ RECORDING SUSPENDED — USER UNCONSCIOUS /
Chakra signature: 10 → 100