Konoha Year 53, Late Winter
It was still early when Shimizu Kanzuki arrived at the Intake House.
The Intake House—essentially a containment shelter—was specifically responsible for housing female outsiders who had appeared within the Land of Fire's borders under mysterious circumstances.
The supervisor on duty noticed the flak vest marking Kanzuki as a chūnin. The man's previously drowsy, indifferent gaze sharpened immediately.
"Sir, everything's been prepared in advance."
Brushing the snow from the soles of his boots at the entrance, Kanzuki stepped inside.
Moments later, two women—one mature, one young—were escorted forward by a female attendant for his inspection.
The supervisor's face was practically glowing with obsequious pride. Seeing Kanzuki glance around the Intake House, he eagerly gestured toward the all-female staff.
"Our operation is strictly divided by gender," he explained, rubbing his hands together. "Women handle female arrivals, men handle male arrivals. We don't mix the two. That was your directive, after all."
He lowered his voice with exaggerated sincerity.
"You can rest assured, sir. In our line of work, we understand the rules. No one's touched them. The entire process has been handled by women only. Even the dog out front is female."
Kanzuki believed him.
The man wouldn't dare lie.
With a single word from Shimizu Kanzuki, this Intake House could be shut down permanently.
He had no choice in the matter. The assignment had been personally handed to him by the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi: oversee the management of outsider containment.
Now that he was the Intake House's direct superior, skimming certain "benefits" had become only natural.
It wasn't greed for money.
It was lust.
The Intake House was not a profitable enterprise. Quite the opposite—housing these female outsiders required constant funding. It drained resources.
No one wanted a money-losing assignment like this.
Thus, in the eyes of others, Shimizu Kanzuki was a fool—a "great sucker" saddled with a loss-making burden.
But as Kanzuki's gaze settled on the pair before him, his mood improved.
They fit his aesthetic perfectly.
Yukinoshita Mother.
And Yukinoshita Haruno.
What a curious encounter…
After discreetly accepting this month's stack of banknotes, the supervisor knowingly handed him a sheet of paper.
"Sir, please keep this safe. The contract."
The contract—more commonly known as a bill of sale.
With it, the two women could not run.
And even if they did, they could be retrieved.
From this day forward, the Yukinoshita mother and daughter were the private property of Shimizu Kanzuki.
His gaze swept over them.
Their clothing was thin—far too thin for late winter in Konoha.
But Kanzuki merely smiled.
In the world of Naruto, there was no problem chakra couldn't solve.
If there was, it only meant there wasn't enough chakra.
He lightly patted each of them on the shoulder, channeling a portion of his chakra into their bodies.
His property needed to be properly maintained.
After all, he would be using them tonight.
—
Yukinoshita Haruno blinked in surprise.
The biting cold vanished instantly.
She glanced down at the snow still clinging to the ground, then at the man's retreating back.
So this would be their master from now on?
Since arriving in this strange world, she and her mother had not felt warmth in a very long time.
As undocumented outsiders, they had been treated as security risks by Konoha from the start.
Haruno was clever—far cleverer than she let on.
After being captured by the female shinobi patrol, she had begun quietly gathering information. In an unfamiliar land, intelligence came first.
This world was nothing like her own.
Here, the supernatural was real.
The beings known as shinobi were, by and large, minor superhumans.
Once she understood that, any thought of escape died completely.
Two ordinary women could not possibly flee from trained kunoichi.
Her mother, face expressionless, gently tugged at Haruno's sleeve.
At least this powerful man behind the scenes seemed to have taken an interest in them.
Taking the two of them away personally likely meant he intended to keep them for himself.
That was, in its own twisted way, a blessing amidst misfortune.
Since they were here, they could only adapt.
She still possessed capability. Strategy. Poise.
She was confident she could make herself useful to this shinobi.
Which meant her first priority was simple:
Make a strong, unforgettable first impression.
Haruno understood immediately.
Their future treatment depended entirely on this moment. Carelessness was not an option.
She had no desire to return to the Intake House as unpaid labor.
Inside, there was no tenderness. No pity.
Only work—or the lash.
Still, their circumstances had been relatively fortunate.
The Human Exchange Market that handled male outsiders was far worse.
Colloquially known as a flesh market, it was located far from the Intake House—but rumors spread regardless.
Several had already died there.
Haruno had quietly concluded that this world was profoundly unforgiving.
Without intelligence and adaptability, one would simply be buried in its soil.
—
They arrived at Kanzuki's residence.
A refined, modest house—not in Konoha's bustling center, but set away from the main district.
For a chūnin to own property in the village, where land was as precious as gold, was already impressive.
If not for the burden of managing outsiders, Shimizu Kanzuki's life would have been exceptionally comfortable.
As it was, he could only manage.
Both male and female outsiders fell under his authority.
If he hadn't devised certain measures—"no work, no food" for the women, assigning them light handicrafts; and for the men, labor to the brink of collapse—he would have gone bankrupt long ago.
Female outsiders earned very little. Cleaning, mending, domestic tasks—nothing substantial.
But male outsiders could generate modest income, because they were worked like livestock.
Balanced together, income barely equaled expenditure.
His gaze returned to the mother and daughter.
In his previous life, they had been nothing more than two-dimensional waifus on a screen.
Now, flesh and blood stood before him.
Even if he had to sell everything, he would taste this novelty at least once.
He sighed.
Ten thousand ryō had already gone into this venture—a significant sum.
It had been before.
It would be again.
"Go take a bath. The bathroom is over there."
"…Yes."
They answered obediently.
They were pragmatic women.
The impractical ones were already dead.
At the thought of certain rumors, Haruno felt her spine tremble.
She had overheard the Intake House supervisor complaining recently: the latest batch of arrivals had been "troublemakers." No manners. No discipline. Poor first impressions.
As a result, almost none from her original world had ever gained even a sliver of freedom.
The Intake House had been furious.
They'd thought they'd struck gold—free labor falling from the sky.
Instead, they'd received useless burdens who dared to complain about working.
If you won't create value, then work harder.
If you can't earn your keep, then what are you for?
If you can't produce profit, then die.
"What? You think you're pretty enough to be offered to Lord Shimizu?"
The supervisor's derisive voice still echoed in her memory.
"Who do you think you are? I'd recommend myself first! Every local woman here has chakra nourishing her body—radiant and refined. What do you outsiders have to compete with?"
Haruno shuddered and shook the thoughts away.
She no longer had to scrub floors until her fingers bled.
No longer had to endure beatings and insults.
At worst…
She would simply endure being used.
Her mother noticed Haruno's distant expression but said nothing.
Instead, she quietly helped her daughter wash.
Compared to local women strengthened subtly by chakra from birth, they truly had little competitive edge.
That worried her.
She sighed inwardly.
She could only hope—
That man would not grow tired of them too quickly.
Because if they were sent back to the Intake House—
Their ending would not be kind.
…