Kojiro led Shiratori and the others through a winding, dim alley and arrived at a street corner.
There, a small house stood quietly. At its entrance hung a wooden sign that read: "Full Moon Steamed Bun Shop."
Kojiro crossed his arms and gave a proud hum.
"This is the bun shop I've been visiting for the five years I've lived in Aomine. The buns and steamed bread here are delicious, and very affordable. If you hadn't met me, you'd never have found such a good place. Those greedy merchants out there would've tricked you out of every last coin."
As he stared at the shop, waves of sweet fragrance wafted through the air. He swallowed.
"For guiding you here, even if I don't deserve a reward, I've at least worked hard. I'll just take two buns as payment later."
Then he eyed them suspiciously.
"You wouldn't be stingy enough to not even give me two buns, would you?"
Yahiko shook his head at once.
"Of course not! You can even eat five buns if you want!"
"Good!"
"Then five buns it is!" Kojiro immediately changed his tune.
Yahiko: "..."
He stared resentfully at Kojiro.
Behind Shiratori, Konan let out a small laugh.
Shiratori walked toward the bun shop. It wasn't very big; huge steamers occupied nearly two-thirds of the space.
With her back turned, a young woman was busily at work.
"Ding-dong!"
Kojiro mimicked a doorbell sound and called out to the woman, "Suzuki-san, you've got customers!"
Wearing an apron, Suzuki turned around, hands on her hips, ready to scold Kojiro, until she saw Shiratori and his companions.
"What would you like to buy?" she asked gently.
Shiratori handed her a bulging pouch of coins.
"I want to buy buns."
Startled, Suzuki weighed the heavy pouch in her hands.
"So much money just to buy buns...?"
"Exchange all this money for your buns," he said, pointing to the steamers behind her.
Suzuki froze for a moment, then asked curiously, "With this money, you could buy out every bun I have. Why do you need so many?"
"Oh, these kids want to give them out to the refugees on the road," Kojiro explained.
"What!"
Suzuki looked at them sternly.
"No way! Do you know how dangerous that is in Aomine? And you, how could you let these children act so recklessly in such dangerous matters!"
She glared at Kojiro as she scolded.
Kojiro only shrugged, though his gaze was unusually serious.
"Trust them. They aren't just ordinary children."
Shiratori nodded and said to Suzuki, "Please believe us. We are not ignorant of Aomine. Before coming here, we prepared ourselves for everything."
Suzuki pressed her lips together. She had a kind heart and couldn't bear to see the refugees suffer, but neither could she afford to offend the leaders of Aomine.
Clutching the money bag tightly, determination flashed in her eyes.
"All right!"
She set the pouch down on the counter, turned, and began lifting the buns from the steamers, packing them one by one into wicker baskets on a handcart.
Yahiko poked one and gasped in delight.
"So soft!"
Suzuki smiled at him.
"If you'd like to eat, help yourselves. With this much money, I've already profited."
Shiratori glanced at Yahiko, Konan, and Nagato, nodding at them. They quickly picked up buns and stuffed them into each other's hands.
Before long, not a single bun was left in Suzuki's shop.
The cart used for hauling goods was crammed full of wicker baskets packed with buns.
Suzuki looked at them with a complicated expression.
"I can only help you this far. You must be careful."
She didn't want to expose herself to the eyes of the merchants, afraid they would mark her. All she wanted was to live peacefully.
Shiratori nodded in understanding.
"Let's go."
He and Yahiko easily pushed the cart toward the street where the most refugees in Aomine gathered.
Kojiro stood silently beside Suzuki, watching their backs with a calm gaze.
Once again, they drew countless eyes. Passersby frowned as they stared at them.
Shiratori stopped walking and said to Yahiko beside him, "Let's begin!"
Yahiko nodded firmly.
Glancing at the refugees huddled in the corners of the street, their clothes ragged and bodies thin, he shouted loudly, "Free buns! Line up and you'll get some!"
Shiratori rubbed his ears, nearly deafened by Yahiko's roar. The sound echoed down the entire street.
From the shops on their right came the sound of hurried footsteps. Curious shopkeepers poked their heads out, peering at them.
When Shiratori's gaze turned to them, their faces instantly darkened as they saw the buns piled on the cart. Their eyes grew cold, staring at him and his group as if looking at the walking dead.
Meanwhile, the refugees stared hungrily at the big white buns on the cart. Their emaciated bodies struggled up from the ground. A filthy, trembling hand reached toward the cart.
"Konan."
Shiratori called out, as if he had already anticipated this.
"Yes."
She nodded seriously.
Countless paper sheets unfolded, separating the refugees from the cart. The papers were as sharp as blades, leaving deep gashes in the wood with ease.
The refugees recoiled, their wide eyes staring helplessly at them.
"Line up. Everyone will get some."
Shiratori swept his gaze over them and repeated once more.
The refugees quickly dispersed from around the cart, scrambling to form a long line in front of it.
Yahiko let out a sigh of relief. Standing at the head of the cart, he handed a bun to the first refugee. The line began to move quickly. Those who received buns didn't even have time to speak, stuffing the bread into their mouths with desperation. Watching them, he felt as though he were looking at his own past self.
"Seems they don't really understand the rules of Aomine..." Inside a nearby restaurant, the owner sat in a chair, holding a smoking pipe, and spoke lazily.
Two tall, burly men stood behind him.
"If they don't understand the rules, then tonight you'll go and teach them."
The owner tapped the ash from his pipe and sighed helplessly.
"When I was their age, I already knew plenty of rules. People these days are truly outrageous..."
"Whew..."
Yahiko let out a long breath, wiped the sweat from his forehead. His face was full of exhaustion, yet his eyes still shone brightly.
Konan and Nagato were the same, despite being utterly worn out, faint smiles appeared on their faces.
Shiratori leaned against the handcart. Not a single steamed bun was left inside, it had all been distributed to the refugees.
"Even though it's tiring, the feeling of being able to help them is just amazing!"
Yahiko's eyes sparkled as he looked at Shiratori and spoke.
Konan nodded in agreement. Every time she saw the gratitude shining in the eyes of the refugees, a warmth welled up inside her heart. Especially when among the refugees were children the same age as themselves. Handing out buns to them felt like helping the younger versions of themselves.
"We're drenched in sweat. Let's go back and take a bath."
Shiratori looked at Yahiko and the others, and suggested.
What they needed most now was rest. After they had rested, there would still be a fierce battle awaiting them tonight.
"Yeah!"
Yahiko nodded.
The four of them headed back toward the inn where they were staying.
On the way, Shiratori ignored the gazes that followed them from the shadows. When they entered the inn, the innkeeper looked at them with eyes full of gloating malice.
Yahiko frowned.
The innkeeper let out a strange chuckle.
"Let's go."
Shiratori's gaze swept past Yahiko's face, where anger was plain to see.
When Yahiko heard his voice and looked toward him, he saw Shiratori's calm eyes. The agitation in his heart settled down.
The four of them went upstairs into their room. Konan went in to bathe first.
Shiratori glanced at Yahiko and Nagato sitting nearby, and suddenly asked, "Are you prepared?"
Yahiko was taken aback. He was still lost in the joy of having helped others. "Prepared for what?"
Nagato also looked toward Shiratori, who explained calmly, "Tonight, someone will come to kill us."
Yahiko's pupils shrank. His fists clenched tight, his teeth ground together.
"Just because we handed out food to the refugees? Just for that, they want to kill us? It was only a few buns!"
He couldn't understand what these people were thinking.
"It's not that simple."
Yahiko looked at Shiratori with confusion.
Shiratori sighed. Yahiko was smart, but because of his age and lack of experience, he couldn't see deeper into the issue.
"What we did today, in effect, damaged the merchants' profits."
As soon as he finished speaking, Yahiko retorted, "But even without us, the refugees wouldn't go to their shops to buy things. Their prices are so high, how could the refugees possibly afford them?"
Shiratori pointed to Yahiko's chest. "The refugees have no money. But they still have their bodies."
Yahiko's lips parted slightly, his eyes showing blank confusion.
"When they're starving to the brink of death, they'll do anything to obtain food. Those with children or wives will choose to sell them as property. Those without will sell themselves, their own bodies will no longer belong to themselves, but to others, in exchange for food. And tell me... what could be more valuable than a person's body?"
Yahiko's pupils widened. He stared stiffly at Shiratori, his mind going completely blank.
"So it turns out these refugees were already at their breaking point. But then we handed out buns, easing their immediate crisis. The merchants' plans failed, so of course they'll send the ninjas and samurai they sponsor to eliminate us."
Shiratori looked toward the door.
[Killing Intent detected]
[Multiple sources: +2000 points each]
[Total accumulated: 28,000 points]
[Curse Growth - Killing Intent: 5.1%]
So, quite a few enemies have come.
"How can those merchants be so cruel? Do they not have a shred of conscience?"
Yahiko's angry voice echoed through the room.
What Shiratori did not tell him was that having too much conscience doesn't make anyone rich. There are countless people profiting off the flames of war.
Konan, now changed into clean clothes, came out of the bathroom. She stretched lazily, then smiled at them.
"I'm done! It's your turn now!"
The three of them turned to look at her.
"Konan!"
Yahiko's pupils shrank, and he rushed toward her.
Nagato abruptly stood, his eyes locked firmly on her direction.
Shiratori's pupils reflected the scene before him.
A blade was pressed against Konan's neck. Just the slightest movement could cut her throat open.
From the shadows emerged a figure, almost melting into the darkness. One hand held the blade, the other clutched the back of Konan's neck. A mask covered the lower half of his face, leaving only a pair of sinister eyes exposed.
"Take one more step, and I'll kill her."
The blade pressed closer to Konan's neck.
A thin red line of blood appeared on her skin. Konan let out a pained cry, her lips pale. Her eyes were filled with fear.
Yahiko ground to a halt, forcing himself to stop. "Don't touch her!"
"Let's see just how deep your bonds run."
The ninja stared directly at Yahiko.
"Don't worry about me!"
Konan suddenly trembled, shouting at them. Tears spilled from her eyes. She didn't want to become a burden to them.
"Don't worry about me!"
The ninja sneered coldly, letting her shout as much as she wanted.
He knew all too well, the more she said that, the less these three boys would be able to bear letting her die.
"If one of the three of you kills yourself, I'll spare her."
The ninja yanked Konan's hair, forcing her head up.
"No... Don't listen to him!"
Shiratori looked at Yahiko, whose eyes were tearing with rage, and at Nagato, who was trembling with pain and struggle.
He fell silent. This scene... looked so familiar.
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The chapter title is fitting for this. The original author stopped updating on October 8. I'm not sure if they're just taking a break from this story, planning a new arc, or if they've dropped it entirely, since their other story is still getting updates. That's why I haven't updated either. If they really dropped it, I don't think I'll continue. If it had been more popular and gotten more readers, I might have, but as it is… no.