Wassup? NeoShadows back at it again with the latest chapter of A Certain Maelstrom of Misfortune for your reading pleasure.

Originally, I had planned to update on Sunday after doing the usual editing routine on Saturday but found some trouble uploading the document due to an error message popping up. Because of the trouble, I'm a few days late. I got caught up in work, leaving me exhausted and too worn out to pop up my laptop. Also, Genshin Impact continues to get in the way as I grind for Artifacts, Gems, and sweet, sweet Mora. Plus thighs and jiggle physics; we've already established I'm a degenerate, no surprise there.

But I've finished cleaning up to the best of my ability and am ready to deliver a hot piping chapter for you all to eat up like the greedy and impatient pigs ya'll are.

First, as always, Reviews!

Sonicdude8: Unlike the current pandemic afflicting the entire world, the Kami-yan Disease has no feasible vaccine to either cure or resist its powerful infection of the female masses. It's 87% infection rate hits really hard on every type of female who comes across that simple high school boy. You know, that's one of my favorite parts to Touma; it's his conversation and interactions with people no matter who they are. As for Sasuke, I had a little something working to cover their 'arc' down the line.

Kaze: My overall plans for Touma concerning anything involving training are rather...odd, I suppose. His lack of formal training and need to develop his fighting skills will be brought up at a later time down the road. In such a new environment, something is bound to change in how he charges against opponents who don't need supernatural tricks to complete their goals.

Zerofire210: Happy you enjoyed it! And just think, we've only just begun. Imagine Breaker has yet to show off its illusion shattering power to a world that my only see it as some simple form of negation.

Shiroyuu012: The Kami-yan Disease is swift, it is silent, it is potent, and it is deadly when it strikes. Beware the Kami-yan Disease for it is a world-ending pandemic! It's funny when you think about it for a second. In Naruto, they faced a world-ending event at the end of the main series and defeated the, I suppose God of Shinobi or Mother of Shinobi(?), by sealing her into the moon thanks to the help of Ashura providing Naruto and Sasuke the means of stopping her. As for Touma, he had already saved the world from Fiamma as he attained godhood in the realm of Christianity and stopped World War 3, and saved the universe after surviving infinite hells to understand a God before facing a united front from the nations of the world in a boss rush across Denmark before defeating Othinus's Crossbow assault at the end. And all of this happened in less than half a year before he found himself exiled to the Elemental Nations. He's already seen far more bloodshed and violence than most. Oooooohhhh, the fight on the bridge! I've already written but have been retweaking it. All I can say, it's my favorite fight of this arc! And it's good to know I'm not the only one who has fallen down the rabbit hole that is Genshin Impact. May we fall for eternity.

MrQuestionMark: Yeah, you're not getting out of this net anytime soon. I consider this revenge for having me binge A Certain Unknown Level-0 for an entire week without sleep during the pandemic. Wriggle, ya fool! I'm impatient myself to start having Touma react with certain individuals with his Imagine Breaker. God, I want to skip all this and just dig right into The Sound Invasion Arc already! After going through so much misfortune crossing across the globe, even this Kamijou-san will have begun to develop how to handle being stranded on a continent he's a complete stranger to. It sadly becomes a bit of a norm that he already knows what he would need to know to survive, huh? Hah! I scoff at the injuries you speak of regarding this miserable foreigner. Tis' but flesh wounds to what's to come! But I do appreciate the nod to how I make each fight impactful. Even the inhuman durability of this normal teen isn't absolute. He simply knows how to grit his teeth in the moment. I feel the Touma we know at this point in time has matured quite a lot for a boy who has just barely six months worth of memories to build up a solid foundation of being. He isn't some naive protagonist striving to fix a system he doesn't understand but a boy who fights against a system for a small victory that inadvertently causes large ripples of change for either the good or bad. One of the interesting things we've come to see is how he deals with problems relating to the ninja world and its system of ninja. Hey, it would simply be a copy and paste if there wasn't some original content mixed in, in my opinion. And yes, I do read Heavy Object in my spare time and it is awesome.

Qrow545: Man, do I want to just get started on writing on the Sound Invasion Arc already! It's the most exciting one I've been developing since I got started writing this fic. The Curse Seal is an interesting subject to bring up but I won't dwell on it here. Ah, in the eyes of Tsunade, Kamijou Touma is her arch-enemy through and through! As for Aleister, let's say he has his own contingency plans for a situation like this that won't be touched for a long while.

Lawoi: I can only type and edit as fast as I can! Hopefully, this one chapter had satisfy you for now.

TazalTerminals: When the story involves Kamijou Touma, it goes far beyond derailing from the tracks and steamrolling straight to a nuclear plant after crashing through heavy traffic. Oh, I'm going to have fun with Tsunami, you best believe that.

Praxus: I'm happy you're enjoying the story so far! Like mixing soy sauce with ketchup, I thought people would be put off by the strange mixture but pleased to hear people say it's surprisingly tasty for such an odd combination. Touma is definitely going to become an important figure in Naruto's life as the story progresses, so you'll see plenty of interaction between the two boys who have perfected the art of the false smile.

The Biggest Loser: I was hoping to make this best ToAru/Naruto fic out there! Spread the word, damn it! AS for an updating schedule, I had a bit of a problem with trying to uphold one and garnered harassment from a troll because of my failure to keep up with my promises. So, I update whenever I have two or three chapters finished to a story and it can take me a month at times to update even one story. I apologize for not updating frequently like others, but I try my best to publish something whenever I can and as best I can.

Assualt1337: Even a small review is appreciated greatly. I'm in the same boat; I don't really review as much as I should to my favorite stories. I know that makes me a hypocrite, but in my excuse: I'm a very lazy man. So, you're already a better man than me! ...You bastard.

Onilink500: Es curioso que menciones a la Facción Kamijou. Es probable que las cosas se vuelvan locas del otro lado una vez que se descubra la noticia de la desaparición de Touma.

TheNotSoFantastique: I'll continue as best and as long as I can with your support. As for Angel Slayer; who dat? I'm not sure I'm familiar with who that may be.

LinkMorali: So you ask, so I deliver!

That's it for reviews! Scroll, damn you! SCROLL!


Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to A Certain Magical Index or Naruto. Both rights are reserved to Kamachi Kazuma and Masashi Kishimoto respectfully.

This caffeine addict is exhausted and in need of sleep. But fanfiction and Genshin Impact continue to force my eyes open despite my need to tuck into bed. Plus there's the dwindling exhaustion from last November's stressful elections in the states.

Only the memes can pick me up as I'm reminded Party in The USA was actually a pretty banger song.

...Stop staring. We've all simped after a female Disney star at one point or another, ya heathens.


Chapter 5: Compromised Smiles.

In_The_ABSENCE_Of_Champions.

Between The Lines 1.

Samurai; a warrior once similar to Shinobi in the distant past reaching as far back as the days before the warring nations created the system of Kage. In a time long ago, the two warriors had learned the art of ninshu as one original sect, taught to spread peace throughout the land by the original practitioner who had hoped to connect people with another. But due to differences in how one should practice ninshu the two had split to follow their own beliefs and teachings.

One side believed those who practiced ninshu should focus on connecting their spirits with others in hopes of keeping the bonds between them burning ever brighter. A warrior who weaponized their ninshu into ninjutsu to practice assassination techniques proving to only further divide them.

Those without honor or loyalty who would stab their own teammates in the back if given the order.

Then there were those who believed ninshu focused on their spirits, keeping their faith pure as the cold steel they sang with every swing of their blade. A warrior who held onto their ideals first above fortune and fame. They were a loyal breed said to only kneel to those who've they accepted as holding true to their ideals and served lords who they chose.

Even as the world had cast those loyal warriors aside for the more flexible and profitable ninja, the samurai remained rooted to this world. The Tetsu no Kuni was home to a majority of the remaining samurai, teaching those who remained faithful to the art the lessons imparted on them from their founders. Those who were trained were taught to gain a soul as bright and strong as the iron they wielded by their side, to be as quick as the lightning of the gods, and channel their spirits to sing a devastating spell upon their foes.

Above all else, those samurai were proud, loyal, and disciplined.

Nothing at all like the shifty shinobi.

"I think last's night sake was poisoned, Waraji. What other reason would explain why I woke up in a puddle of my own vomit this morning in a near-death state?"

"It's called drinking yourself stupid, Zori. Has nothing to do with the fact you stole all that shit from the merchants you were playing games with again. How much did you have again? Twelve gourdes? Though, he might have slipped something in there ahead of time if he knew you would take all his supplies yesterday."

"I won those gourdes fair and square. He had his chance to win back all his money and then some. He shouldn't be so bitter to poison my spoils of victory over a bad hand. Nothing I hate more than sore losers. Next time I see him, I'm upping the stakes."

"I'll never understand why you even bother playing around with those villagers. Just take their money and be done with it. Don't even bother seeking out that guy; he's dead."

"Shit, really? I mean, I know he lost a good portion of his Ryo when he lost our game but I would have thought he'd enough time to make up his losses to pay up for the next tax collection round. Wait, what day is it?"

"That's the excuse I'll give the boss. But between you and I; I was a little light on cash. And since he wouldn't pony it up, I decided to take it for myself and blame the lack of a collection fee on a dead corpse's inability to pay. Hahahahaha! You should have seen him! He was squirming until the very end!"

It was within a hidden headquarters belonging to a certain billionaire tyrant of Nami no Kuni that two 'samurai' were walking the passageway with idle chatter. The two were known simply as Zori and Waraji; the main guards of this world's richest and most influential business tycoon, Gato. And as one would expect from the sheathed katanas tied to their waist belts they were samurai.

Or more accurately, Ronin; rogue samurai.

Zori grunted to his partner's cruel form of amusement.

It wasn't that he didn't find it funny; the poor bastard probably shit his pants before he died. It was just that the joke had gotten old after the fifteenth body the brute samurai had dropped for either Ryo or boredom. There was ruthless and then there was just plain cruel for cruelty's sake. Not that Zori could be said to be any different than his sadistic partner.

As a ronin employed by a tyrannical businessman, he wasn't any more of a saintly monk than the rest of the goons, missing-nin, ronin, or penny mugging thugs off the street on Gato's payroll. Give him the command, no explanation needed, to kill a short-changed shop keep unable to afford this week's tax; he didn't mind the red beads slipping off his katana anymore than anyone else in this shitty nation.

It was his job to spread fear and intimidation. Simple as that.

Violence craving thugs like Waragi though didn't need an incentive or command to stick their blades into the cowering masses. Killing was a thrill and Gato allowed them to cut loose to no complaints as long as the residences of Nami no Kuni understood what it would cost them if they were to cross him.

"How much you even get? A couple hundred Ryo?"

"Tch, fucker barely had enough to cover a proper meal after he lost to you. He would have been dead by week's end anyway if that's all he could cough up. Too bad he didn't have a wife or daughter on him; I would have had much more of a thrill fondling some tits to take care of the excitement I was feeling after cutting the piss-ant to pieces. Had to pick out one of the girls Gato-sama had in stock instead; cost five times what I got from a corpse's purse. Damn greedy asshole, you'd think he'd let us take what we want as his main guard."

Zori nodded listlessly. Time and time again, he would have to listen to his partner's rambling concerning either their pay, lack of benefits, or worthy prey to test the edge of his katana. None of which really concerned Zori since he wasn't a bloodthirsty meathead prone to a killing spree when bored. Their pay was far above the fodder employed by the corrupt merchant, they were free to do as they pleased within the village as long it didn't get in the way of Gato's profits and were pretty much for show, no different than if Gato was the one wielding a weapon.

In short, this was a pretty sweet job that required little effort nowadays. Easy Ryo anyone would welcome; especially if you were a heavy gambler like Zori was. It was just too bad this crappy island didn't have any pachinko parlors or casino tables to wet his mouth. The best gambling he could do was betting or playing games with the very villagers he was threatening.

"Stop your complaining. You should understand by now that nothing's free. Doesn't matter that we work for Gato-sama; if he can make even a small profit from those who work under him, he's going to take it. You could be the guy's own treasured son and you'd still have to pay up to visit his brothels."

Brothels weren't Zori's thing. He found the seedy business venture distasteful. The whore houses employed by the unfortunate women who couldn't afford to pay for their families' taxes, taken prisoner, or even sold off for Ryo instead of losing their possessions. Cruel as he was there were just some lines even a killer like him didn't cross.

Now, if Gato had actually bothered to create a damn casino instead of a brothel then Zori would have been all for it. He wouldn't even care if the female staff were prisoners showing loads of skin as long as they wore those sexy bunny suits.

Their conversation came to an end as they neared the hideout's main hall. On each end of the dark gray walls were several sets of doors, each one containing a great deal of unknown material gain taken by the Gato Company. Blackmail, Ryo, weapons, rare scrolls, rich metals, the works. All things worthy of their employer's grabby hands were stored close to his own quarters behind doors protected by security seals. Thieves under Gato's own employ who believed they could steal from right under his nose would find themselves treated to the gruesome effects of those heavy-duty ink character locks crafted by an expert seal specialist for over 10,000Ryo.

At the very end of the hall would be Gato's personal quarters, a lavish room not seen by anyone but Gato himself where he worked in private or entertained himself with expensive alcohol or female company under his thumb. Zori wasn't surprised to see random thugs standing guard outside the well-crafted mahogany frame. A filthy rich merchant was never without protection at all times.

The guards recognized Zori and Waraji, nodding briefly before rapping the door with a series of knocks to convey a message to Gato within.

A few minutes passed before the door opened, revealing the short figured, shaggy brown-haired Gato in a finely pressed and tailored black suit, purple tie, and yellow undershirt. The small black glasses he wore were fixed as he waved his hands at the standing guards, not even sparing them a glance as he walked ahead.

No worded threats were required to make sure the guards did their job. With how much there were being paid they had little reason to risk the loss of the small fortune they were being offered.

Zori was quick to follow ahead of the short stature company man, followed closely by Waraji on their way to a very important meeting.

"I heard word of a rather...upsetting development, Zori-san. Apparently, there's been a rumor swimming around that the best, most powerful, most experienced, most cut-throat shinobi who was once a member of Kirigakure's legendary demon swordsman, I could hire for a daimyo's worth of Ryo, was brought back worse for wear. Tell me; is that true?"

Gato did not sound pleased. In fact, Zori could swear that their employer was close to losing his shit right about now.

For good reason too.

Nami no Kuni was an impoverished nation before the likes of Gato sunk his hands into the island for his own profit. Essentially there was very little opposition to his takeover when they had allowed him to plant his business on their shores. Being a poor nation, they had all but welcomed the richest man in the Elemental Nations to settle in hopes of gaining some kind of wealth. There had been some promise at first, their economy had seen a bump and the nation had gained some profit.

But it hadn't taken long for the charade to fall and for Nami no Kuni to be under Gato's thumb. He'd already wormed himself into a comfy hole and placed himself as a bearing support in their economy. Without any semblance of a security force or government to stop him, he had bought out all the flimsy services or intimidated the people to hand themselves over to his reign.

Not even the daimyo could lift a finger against a man who far surpassed him in wealth, manpower, and influence.

In less than a year, Gato had gained control of an entire nation for his own personal means and profit. Using Nami no Kuni's seafaring vessels for transportation, he could now run his underground black market deals better than before. Not only would he profit from his stake in the island's populace but he could now profit from selling and trading whatever was profitable to other nations' black market connections. He was sitting on a literal gold mine.

Except for the champion of this island's refusal to bow down to him who had been publicly executed, there was no one willing to dare to stand up against him. Nothing would stop him from bleeding the nation dry.

At least that was what Gato had believed until he had learned about a passionate bridge-builder who had been working on creating a lifeline to escape his control. At first, the old man wasn't a bother as Gato believed the bridge would never reach completion as he had made sure that the supplies and men that would be needed for construction were out of his hands. Yet Tazuna prevailed, worked through every roadblock, and overcame what setbacks impeded his progress.

It had taken a year but the unnamed bridge was looking like it would be complete.

It still wasn't anything to sweat about though. All Gato would need to do was hire a professional killer to get rid of the architect. Hence hiring the deadliest ex-ninja on the market willing to kill for a certain price.

The Demon of The Mist, one of the members of The Seven Swordsman of The Mist, and trained in the Assassination Corps; Momochi Zabuza. It had cost nearly a daimyo's fortune to hire him but by employing such a terrifying and cruel man, he would be wiping his hands of Tazuna once and for all; just as he had with Kaiza.

At least it was supposed to go as naturally as that.

Zori knew of the failed assassination attempt as did everyone else in the base. No one could forget the sight of Momochi Zabuza's little henchman carrying the bloodied, severely wounded, and unable to stand Demon through the halls to their own private quarters with demands for medicine and medical supplies. It was a hell of a sight that shook everyone present that day.

"I don't know of his condition since he returned but I do know that I've heard mention from our sources that Tazuna is already back to work on the bridge. Seems even the Demon failed."

"Failed? And, pray tell, why did my most powerful tool fail to behead a frail old man?"

"Apparently Tazuna had left Nami no Kuni without detection for Hi no Kuni, to Konohagakure no Sato. He hired professional ninjas to act as protection in case we acted to kill him any time soon as the bridge's construction is nearly complete. One of the shinobi has been identified as Hatake Kakashi; the infamous Copy Shinobi and Sharingan wielder. Judging by his beaten appearance, it looks like he lost in his assassination attempt."

Gato ground his teeth in barely hidden anger at the news. Zori was sure that Zabuza would have been killed already for the failure if it weren't for the fact the Demon could kill them all or sick his ever obedient and loyal henchman on them in his place. Wise men knew better than to threaten a wounded bear. But this was a partnership that both Gato and Zabuza benefited in. Neither would cut the other off too early without gaining what they desired first.

Right now they were on their way to speak with the bedridden Demon, an attempt on Gato's part to both instill some form of intimidation-Zori had to stop himself from laughing- and understand the situation better. Very little would be gained from this confrontation, Zori knew that for a fact. He was the muscle though so he wasn't being paid for his opinion.

"If that arrogant Demon thinks I won't throw him aside for his failures, he's got another thing coming!"

Zori rolled his eyes. Other than the flush of Ryo at his disposal there wasn't anything frightening about the short man. Even a wounded Demon wouldn't feel a tinge of fear as they brandished their giant clever with a terrifying grin splitting their bloody face.

"Would you like us to handle the shinobi, Gato-sama?"

Zori shot Waraji a warning glance. The shirtless, tattooed, eye-patch wearing ronin's face had gained a rather nasty expression. It was a face desiring the spray of blood and the rush of slicing

Damn psychopath was itching for a fight against shinobi who beat up Zabuza? Did he even have a brain in that demented mind of his?

To Zori's displeasure, Gato appeared to be considering the offer. Did the greedy bastard actually believe that they could stand a chance?

"For now, we wait and see. We don't know a thing about the ninja and I rather not risk any more surprises. When you two are not on guard, go out to the nearby village to gather any intel on those pesky 'heroes'. Recent...odd phenomenon popping up in the Elemental Nations has made me a little eager to sort all this business in Nami no Kuni out as quickly as possible. Severe desert storms in Kaze no Kuni had caused trouble to my caravan of merchants selling to some prominent associates in Sunagakure, a terrible lightning storm has been ravaging one of the main mountain pass leading to Kumogakure for weeks, the rumor of an ominous eastern tower of old appearing like some specter in random points in Tsuchi no Kuni to lure in travelers and my merchants to never be heard of again, among other troubling rumors affecting my shipping routes. A strange pressure has recently been put on several important daimyos as well by what is believed to be rebels of some kind desiring to seize control of the lands. Meaning the poor, weak, frightened, and pathetic Daimyo of Nami no Kuni is sure to be feeling the urge to 'give' away his shitty nation for enough Ryo to live a life of luxury away from the stress of his failed nation. I have to strike while the iron is scolding hot despite the odd happenings. I don't care what it takes; bare your fangs, snarl, or bite as much as you like so long as you reap the rewards."

A ruthless grin grew on Gato's stainless white teeth.

"If possible, I'd like for both of my problems to take the other out. Whoever is left standing will be that much easier to eliminate down the road. It doesn't take a genius in business to find a way to save a nice penny."

Great; extra work. Well, at least it wouldn't be anything more than surveillance. Even if Zori was confident in his skills as a samurai, he wasn't so bloodthirsty as Waraji to test his mettle against shinobi.

He wanted a life of luxury. Whatever the cost to pay for spending his days lazing around with high-quality sake in hand, enough Ryo to fund his taste for playing high-risk games, and a couple of beautiful busty women dressed as bunny girls, he would fork it over. So long as it would fund his wish for the sweet life void of worries or hardship, he would dirty his hands at whatever the cost.

The time of samurai was long gone. He had resigned himself to that reality long ago. All he was good for now was being hired to do the work shinobi wouldn't take to satisfy his own desires. It was the only safe gamble he had left to play.

[-]

Sunlight beat down the working back of those brave men working on the construction of a bridge symbolizing the freedom from a certain billionaire's control. Steel was pounded by steel, cement was churned and molded, drills were spun and pierced metalwork amid hot sparks, heavy machines drowned all other noise not associated with the hard labor, and it seemed only the loud voices of those workers could remotely be heard beneath all the commotion.

Such a sight was not foreign to the city slicker that was Kamijou Touma as he lugged a sack of cement mix over his sore and bandaged back with sweat rolling down his face.

Due to the nature of Academy City, many districts in his home were always undergoing repairs or construction. Either from new designs to help protect buildings from natural disasters or the chaos of its populace learning to develop their supernatural powers. Plus the occasional magician wandering in to cause trouble. Damage to the surrounding city structures was to be expected when it only took one irate esper who could fire railguns like a trigger happy mad man to topple a simple office building.

The loud sounds of screwing, banging, bolting, and hammering were rather nostalgic to a boy who had lost his place in his original world. The setting he was in reminded him of his battle with the Aztec magician known as Etzali. Hopefully, he wouldn't be forced into a fight with one of Gato's bandits in the middle of the construction process.

Then again, who was he kidding? Misfortune ruled that the freshly dried cement road beneath his feet would be gouged by scars of battle at some point with a certain foreign high school boy caught in the middle of the action.

"Some things might never change." he grunted as he dropped the sack of hefty cement mix onto a neatly stacked pile of its brothers.

Like many of the civilians working around him, the sweaty and smelly high school boy was wearing a simple sleeveless dark blue v-shirt, beaten pants, and straw sandals. Seeing as his normal wear was pretty much torn apart from the events involving Kamisato Kakeru, the Birdway Sisters, and Momochi Zabuza, he had been lent spare clothing from the lovely Kaa-san known as Tsunami.

What was said high school boy doing right now, you may ask?

Simple: he was helping Tazuna with the building of his great bridge since he had nothing else to do while he was staying with Team-7 at the architect's home with board and food without charge. What else would he be doing? Sleeping his days away and eating everything in sight like a certain freeloader back in his world? As if! This Kamijou-san wasn't a lazy bastard who wouldn't lift a finger to help around the house with some menial chores.

A sharp sting to the chest of a normal boy nearly toppled him than and there at the memory of sweet and innocent smile now far beyond his meager reach. Shoving the searing pain deep away in his aching heart, the spiky boy went back to work with a shaky sigh.

Two days had already passed them by with no sign of Zabuza or any of Gato's thugs beating down Tazuna's door. To this Kamijou-san's surprise, nothing eventful had sprung up in the time since he had fought with a demon caped in gray mist and wielding a massive cleaver like blade. For once, he actually had some time to let his injured body mend itself without the need to go running off into another Light Novel like event. Unlike the ninjas he was boarded with, he didn't have to move a muscle.

Naruto and Sasuke were, at the moment, busying themselves with the tree-climbing exercise; Sakura being the only one of the genin to make it to the top of the tree without breaking a sweat thus far and no longer needing to gain any more mastery to the exercise. The cherry blossom kunoichi had completed the difficult task in just a day with little trouble.

The boys of her team on the other hand had yet to pass the half-way mark. Very little progress could be seen now no matter how hard they focused their chakra to glue them to the tree's bark. To their frustration, they had hit a slump with only Naruto having shown any progress. If they were smart, they would help the other out just as Naruto had asked Sakura for tips instead of relying on his own limited strength.

Busy with their own training, the two stubborn boys were left out of guarding their client, Tazuna, from Gato's hired personal army of mercenaries and criminals. Since she had completed her mastery of tree climbing, Sakura assisted Kakashi with protecting the old bridge builder from any surprise attacks honed onto his back. Everywhere Tazuna went, both Konoha ninjas would follow with a wary eye searching their surroundings for a hint of a threat from the billionaire's hidden blades.

Everyone was busy, there was plenty for both ninjas and the people of Nami no Kuni to do.

Touma, on the other hand, had very little reason to either train or help out with the building of the bridge due to his injuries. The realization of being nothing more than a freeloader who didn't put any work in to help as he used the excuse of his wounded state to get out of lending a hand had been a sour taste he complained about on the second day of having to stay rooted to a futon.

Sakura and Tsunami, being the kind souls they were, had been rather adamant about simply taking his time to heal after his previous fight with Momochi Zabuza. As the one who had taken it upon herself to take care of him, Tsunami had been the one to shoot down any of his attempts to help the single mother around the house despite now being able to walk about the house. To the mature woman, he was no different than a fragile child who needed to be guided to the bathroom!

And while he was worse off than after most of his battles due to the lack of Heaven Cancelers healing touch, he wasn't so injured that he needed to be mothered by a woman who had taken to teasing this poor high school boy out of boredom!

Said overly motherly woman rolled her eyes to the blushing spiky teen when he had brought up his complaints from his futon while Team-7 and Tazuna had been discussing matters involving the old architect's scheduled date for completing his bridge. With a patronizing smile normally reserved for her eight-year-old son or drunken father, she patted his cheeks playfully as she went to remove the last of the bandages on his face.

It was only the second day since he had been exiled by Kamisato Kakeru's World Rejector and had to be stitched up by a doctor after fighting a murderer wielding a buster sword, and most of the wounds on his face had been cleared up. Other than the stab wounds and cuts he had suffered, the bruises on his body were fading away rather nicely in thanks to the medical cream the doctor had left behind.

His body was still sore, aches still plagued him when he moved a little too roughly than he should, but he was healing up rather well despite lacking the high advance medical tools and practices developed by Academy City. Could it be that his body was so accustomed to being beaten black and blue that it had developed a higher than average ability to recover from wounds?! S-Should he be thankful for such a skill or depressed?!

Of course his desire to not spend the rest of his days in this new world of magical ninjas doing nothing but sleeping, laying in his futon, reading a certain erotic book of tense action and adventure lent by a one-eyed scarecrow, and eating food, or staring off into space with thoughts of his original world leaving him somber.

It was those moments of solitude he had grown to despise the most.

The emptiness he found in being lost without those he had fought countless tragedies for always found a way to bite down onto his heart in those silent moments.

Upon hearing his complaints, a tired and troubled Tazuna's interest was peaked by the spiky teen who didn't want to lay in bed doing nothing.

Recently, Tazuna had lost another worker who was too terrified to continue working on the bridge in fear of Gato's shadow threatening to butcher them all like pigs for the slaughter. Such a predicament to the old man's plan was no oddity and had become a lot more frequent as of late. The original manpower he had struggled to muster up without being able to offer them any real pay had once been, at most, thirty people strong; now it was down to twelve.

Help was needed in whatever form Tazuna could take. It didn't matter how small or meaningless the task may seem but he needed people to help out with the construction of the bridge in whatever form they could offer. Even if it was for only a measly half-hour a day, he would take it!

And after yet again losing another hand, setting his plans back another week, Tazuna didn't care where the help came from or who it came from. So long as they were willing to offer their services however they could, he would accept them without a complaint.

Even if the help came from a boy who lacked any real knowledge in construction or using heavy machinery, he was far too desperate to turn away the extra manpower in whatever form it would take.

And while bandages could still be seen around Touma's collar and a bandage or two was still seen on his face clear of bruises, the high school boy from another world was doing his best to help out the man who was kind enough to give him a roof over his head.

One could stand to say he still needed a day or two of rest before he should be thinking about doing anything close to hard labor. He wasn't a ninja like the Konohagakure gang. Frankly speaking, he was no different than Tazuna and his family. He was an ordinary boy, a civilian who couldn't use chakra to conjure supernatural attacks or abilities. Injuries such as his shouldn't be rushed or taken lightly.

Tsunami had said as much when Tazuna had decided to take Touma up on his offer. She had argued with allowing him to do anything which didn't revolve around resting and recovering from his wounds. Like the mother she was, she refused to allow even a stranger like Touma to risk further injury and tried to force him back to bed.

He had been insistent on wanting to help out in some way other than having to resolve the glaring issue of Tazuna being threatened with assassination with his typical brand of violence. He was more than just a fist brandished to inflict pain and shatter the weak excuses of his opponents. Even if it was menial labor such as cleaning up debris or running back and forth with supplies, he wanted to do more than just sitting around in the home of strangers kind enough to take in a boy who had nowhere else to go.

Plus he had grown bored with re-reading the single copy of Icha-Icha Paradise Kakashi had lent him to occupy his time. Perverted as the novel was, it was still a surprisingly good read worthy of being a guilty pleasure. A connoisseur like Aogami would have been raving about such golden literature and be demanding an animation studio for anime adaptation...or more likely, a hentai adaptation.

It had taken some persuading from both concerned parties (i.e. Tsunami and Sakura) to allow him to be of help to make up for the hospitality he was offered.

Relenting, Tazuna had allowed Touma to help out with simple labor to help speed things up. Even if just a little. Whatever help they could get was needed.

Touma could see why. For a construction yard, there were very few men working about the nearly completed bridge standing above the ocean lulling waves. If he had to take count of all the heads, he would garner a guess estimate of about twelve people moving about the bridge to perform various tasks needed to support the current segment of steel and concrete they had erected. A big project such as building a mass of steel crossing over the sea to connect with another land while being hounded by a militia of criminals under the orders of a corrupt billionaire seemed to require more than just a small band of men working around the clock. While it may not be as big as the bridges he had seen in lessons in the western world, Nami no Kuni's construct was still impressive.

To complete such a project, he'd thought Tazuna would require triple the manpower he had now. Yet with only twelve, the old man was chipping away on the progress of freeing his nation from the controlling hold of one man and his pawns.

Heaving another 60lb sack of cement mix over his shoulders, the sweating spiky teen dropped it off onto the pile of its brothers. Nearby, an equally sweaty man wearing a yellow hard hat absently nodded in thanks as he continued working the dull orange and scratched cement mixer.

"Thank you, Kamijou-san. If you don't mind, could you let Tazuna-san know we're just about done with laying down the last of the metalwork frames for the next section of the bridge we'll be laying down tomorrow?"

Nodding in understanding, Touma gave the bridge worker who looked to be pushing his mid-fifties and working himself to the bone as he worked the heavy machinery, a simple smile before heading off to search for the boss of this entire operation.

He'd been doing simple tasks such as this for a good four hours now. Lugging bags of cement, carrying tools back and forth, even hammering a few pieces of support nails with the help of the workers. Even a high school boy struggling to advance to the next grade could handle hard labor. There only came one problem in working in such a busy field.

As he took one step forward, he was unaware of the spare nail which had fallen out of one of the worker's hands. Incredibly, it had fallen and stopped to stand tall on its flat head, glinting menacingly in the sunlight as the shadow of a foot descended upon it. The inanimate object shivered, seeming to cackle evilly just before its tip pierced the sole of a shoe and kissed flesh.

Touma froze perfectly still, worrying the worker who had sent him on his way with a message to Tazuna. Both men found their eyes wandering to the bottom of the spiky teen's foot. The nail gleamed mockingly as it had entered a centimeter or two into the foot of the paralyzed teen.

A meager drop of blood later and the howl of pain came.

"GGGGGYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Multiple heads of those working on laying sheets of dried cement on the structure of the current segment of the bridge turned to stare at the teary-eyed Touma who hopped about madly on one foot as if it was on fire. Those older men who had seen a great deal of tragedy and suffering gazed flatly at the spiky teen, finding themselves unsurprised to see the hopping boy back into a beam of steel being raised by lift, smack his head, unsteadily hob back into a table of tools left to rest, and fall with such force the heavy tools consisting of a drill, a hammer, wrenches, and a few metal lunch boxes tumble onto the wounded boy.

It was as if they were witnessing a scene from a comedic manga.

"S-Such...misfortune."

None of those hard-working men could help what happened next.

Snorts, laughs, chuckles, and bellowing laughter erupted from those tired men at the sight of misfortune once again tackling the poor boy out of the blue. No matter how many times they were treated to such a sight first met with concern, the sight of such random chaos never got old. It was as if they were being treated to a comedic skit by a jester.

Touma had nothing to say to those sadistic bastards working to save their nation. He simply groaned on the hard cement floor as he took a break among the pile of tools and lunch boxes laid around him.

Misfortune did not take a break. Not even when he was simply trying to help. In fact, it seemed to have grown giddy that the target of its usual trickery and misery was working in such a setting filled with all manner of objects to enact its magic. This was not the first time such an 'accident' occurred to the weary teen who was still sore from his battle with a shinobi known by the lands as The Demon of The Mist.

'Maybe it would have been better if I had kept my mouth shut and stayed in bed. At least the strokes of misfortune I activated were only limited to walking in on Tsunami-san changing.'

Beet red momentarily colored the groaning boy's cheeks as he recalled a lovely curvy feminine body pausing in her motions of putting on a fresh pair of undergarments.

In his defense, he was drowsy and had no idea where the bathroom was since it was his first morning waking up in a stranger's home. How was he supposed to know he was wandering into the sweet and kind kaa-san's room?

Sighing, he picked himself up and cleaned up the mess born of his bad luck, sending irritated glares at the laughing bridge workers before heading off to see Tazuna.

To find the boss of the bridge, Touma only needed to find a head of cherry blossom pink and the odd angled spike of gray close by said man. Among all those working, the two Konoha ninja stuck out likes sore thumbs. He could find the two ninjas standing behind the old man close to what Touma believed was the middle ground of the bridge, far enough from all the noise to give Tazuna just enough space free of all the sounds jarring his thoughts as he went over the blueprints of his construct for what was the hundredth time today.

Upon finding the trio, Touma noticed Tazuna hunched over his wooden workbench, scratching his scalp below the hard hat on his head with an obvious scowl of frustration on his wrinkled face. Various worn parchments were scattered around the table with equally worn and chipped measurement tools.

"Since we lost Giichi today, our manpower has gone down to 12. The man may not have been the strongest or most well adept at his job, but the loss of another body sets us back some. At this rate, we may just fall short of the estimated deadline of a month and a half. It may take us more than two months if any more people drop out due to fear of that slimy mole, Gato."

Touma frowned at the displeased tone in Tazuna's voice as he neared the old man standing over a wooden table full of his blueprints, notes, and worn down chalk and pencils. The yellow hard helmet he had grown accustomed to seeing on the architect's head was set aside as he cleaned his sweaty balding head with a towel hung around his reddening neck. His eyes were glued to his papers, focused intently on invisible movements and numbers Touma couldn't see with a growing scowl of frustration on his weathered face.

Catching his footsteps, Kakashi glanced back lazily at the sight of him while Sakura offered him a small smile and a wave. He returned the gesture before calling out to the mulling old man.

"Oi, Tazuna-san! Renga-san wanted me to let you know that the guys are done setting up the framework for the next section of the bridge."

Tazuna made a sound of surprise as he took his eyes off his laid out plans, blinking as he finally noticed Touma standing in front of his makeshift desk. The old man's dark eyes blinked several more times before he rubbed the sweat and weariness from his gaze before standing up straight. The old man's back could be heard cracking as he groaned.

"Did they now? Odd, I expected it would take them a bit longer to complete the framework. Seems they've recently gotten an energy boost from somewhere. They're pretty lively too. Wonder how that happened?" Tazuna mumbled as he scratched his gray beard.

Touma's right eye twitched, faintly hearing a few snickers from far back.

It was only then that Sakura noticed the haggard teen's state of wear.

"Kamijou-san! What happened to your face? You look like someone just finished beating your face stupid."

Both Tazuna and Kakashi noticed as well, staring at the new hues of black and blue scattered about Touma's face. Being the most analytic and observant, Kakashi even noticed how Touma was leaning in favor of his left foot rather than his right. Was that a hint of blood on his shoe?

Touma, for his part, laughed sheepishly as he scratched his scalp, bringing to attention the small scrapes and cuts on his hands.

"Misfortune, Haruno-san. Just the usual acts of Kami-sama turning a blind eye to this Kamijou-san's well being like some haughty girl ignoring a meager peasant unfit to lick her shoes. Honestly, it's only a few bruises and cuts here and there. Accidents happen all the time...to me."

"You talk as if your misfortune is this unseen bully who seems to enjoy picking on you and solely you, Kamijou-san." Kakashi said blandly at the strange boy.

"If misfortune was a living human being, I'm sure it would be a she, and she'd have a very unhealthy obsession with this average boy who doesn't wish to interact with the stalkerish yandere breathing heavily down his neck with a rusty kitchen knife in her hand."

"Right." the lax one-eyed shinobi drawled.

Was the spiky teen even aware of how much pain he was in? If Kakashi had to guess, the reason why Touma was favoring one leg was due to an injury of some sort on his right foot. He shouldn't even be surprised at this point. In simply two days of getting to know the foreigner, Kakashi had gotten to understand the abnormal nature that was Kamijou Touma's luck.

Nonexistent.

Negative Zero.

A Mere Fantasy.

From simply tripping, walking in at the worst possible time to either Sakura or Tsunami bathing or changing, to biting his tongue while eating, or even Naruto accidentally forgetting where the sleeping Touma was sleeping while getting up at night and stepping on his face, all manners of bad luck plagued the wielder of the mysterious power known as Imagine Breaker. Originally, Kakashi had been skeptical of Touma's own admission of his lack of fortune and believed the boy was exaggerating.

Who wouldn't?

Sure, bad luck was an odd phenomenon that tends to strike out of nowhere. Probability as random as a coin landing on its edge was a subject even these covert and professional shinobi and kunoichi were aware of. Superstition was a thing even veteran shinobi like Kakashi believed in. Every time he encountered a black cat on his way to meeting his students or meeting other ninjas, he was always careful and made sure to go another way to avoid any trouble. He wasn't one to scoff at others for believing in such matters.

...Even if he used said ridiculous superstitious events to excuse his tardiness here and there.

But to hear someone outright admit to having nothing but misfortune plague them was a little hard to believe. Anyone to say such a thing was obviously complaining and blowing their troubles out of proportion.

Kamijou Touma proved Kakashi wrong the moment he witnessed a humming Tsunami walk over to Touma to check his bandages before bed on their first night and tripped. Somehow, the widowed mother flipped in the air as she fell onto the bedridden boy and landed in the strangest of postures; falling stomach to stomach with her face pressed on the crotch of Touma and her rear facing his face, which had gone blanch as he lost conciseness from the heavy blow.

Giving no care to the boy passed out with his mother staring at Touma's crotch, Inari, who had seen everything, proceeded to rain kicks at the face of the unfortunate dark spiky teen while hurling insults no eight-year-old should know.

There was nothing more telling of the boy's lack of luck than that simple scene with the addition of everything else Kamijou Touma had gone through in one day.

Perhaps there was something to be said about the boy having zero fortune to his name after all?

"Geez, kid, you look like shit. Is this going to be a regular thing for you?" Tazuna asked as he stared at the small injuries on Touma's body.

"I won't lie to you; you've yet to see anything."

Tazuna pinched the bridge of his nose at the deflated response before waving his hand at Touma.

"I think you've helped enough, Kamijou-san. If the framework is done then we need to finish up what's left of the support beams as quick as possible so that we can move on to tomorrow's workload. You've been a real help, but you should head on back to my place and get some rest. You won't be of any use in defending me from Gato's goons if you don't properly heal up first."

Gathering a few of his notes and one of his blueprints, Tazuna set his sights on confirming everything was on the up and up. Kakashi followed behind the bridge builder, glancing back at Sakura for a moment as he spoke.

"Sakura, would you mind dressing Kamijou-san's wounds? We can't have him sent back to Tsunami-san a mess. The last thing we need is a scolding for allowing the boy to be harmed."

The pink-haired kunoichi nodded simply as she watched her sensei leave with their client. She turned back to Touma, hands planted on her waist with a frustrated stare as said teen blew on the stinging welts on his arms.

[-]

"Seriously, Kamijou-san, can't you go a single day without getting hurt in some way?"

"In my defense, yesterday's bruises were caused by you."

"Because you walked in on me when I was changing out of my sweaty clothes! Don't you know how to knock!?"

"I thought no one was home! Tsunami-san was outside with Inari-san, Tazuna-san was working, and you guys were busy training! How was I supposed to know you were using the bathroom to change after I had just woken up? You should have locked the door in the first place! What happened to your common sense, young lady?!"

The irate and blushing Sakura had to stop herself from planting a knuckle at the already bruised face of her friend(?) as she reached for the first aid supplies she carried in one of her pouches. Spying a stool nearby, she ordered the older boy to sit before working on cleaning the visible wounds on his person. He made no complaint, wincing as the medical alcohol was applied to his face.

"C-Careful, Haruno-san! You're pressing the cloth of alcohol too hard. Please, be gentle."

Never mind; nothing but complaints came from his whiny mouth.

Sakura rolled her eyes at the whimpering Touma, finding herself deep in thought as she minded herself with treating the small welts, bruises, and cuts.

This was the boy who had fought against Momochi Zabuza, one of the notorious Seven Swordsman of The Mist, with only his fists?

Seriously?

The whining spiky boy who (guiltily) caused her heart to stir with a simple comment of being cute, was a pervert on par with her sensei, and complained about being unlucky at every little accident? If she hadn't been there to see the plain-faced boy split a water dragon with nothing more than his right hand, she would have been understandably doubtful.

She had seen him though, Kamijou Touma, fight against a shinobi who exuded a visible cloak of blood-curdling killing intent so strong she had nearly choked at the mere words spoken by a man who was more than gleeful with beheading her head in one swing. Without a hint of fear in his eyes, he had protected Team-7 from the demon's guillotine without being asked. And he had survived, going as far as to wound the demon without brandishing a weapon or using a jutsu.

A right fist was all it had taken to break Momochi Zabuza's nose and destroy his clones with one strike.

The normal boy who admitted to knowing nothing about chakra, who said he could never gain the talent to so much as utilizing his chakra for simple physical feats, and lacked ninja training or any form of martial arts training, had saved them.

How?

'Kamijou-san's just an ordinary civilian than...right? Other than his strange hand, a power that has to be a kekkei genkai, he's no different than Tazuna-san and his family. Without any training or skill in chakra, he should have been, by all accounts, killed fighting Zabuza. He should have been paralyzed by fear as Naruto and Sasuke-kun had been. He...he should have died.'

But Touma survived, wounded, but survived with enough energy to carry the passed out Kakashi over his back and complain about his misfortune.

The ordinary civilian who had run to save Sakura out of nowhere had done what trained genin had failed to do.

'...Just what am I doing wrong if a kunoichi like me, trained from a young age to fight and kill, needs to be saved by the very people she was ordered to protect? How could a plain boy like him do what we couldn't? Wasn't he terrified? Shouldn't he have relied on us to save him? Just...just what did he have that we lacked to step up in his place?'

What did Sakura lack when compared to a normal boy who was 'weaker' than her?

Or...maybe...she was the weaker one.

Sakura slumped as she dabbed alcohol over the small puncture wound on Touma's foot, staring down at the boy's foot with a weak smile.

Right, she was the weakest out of all of them. She already knew that from the beginning. Even Naruto, the Dead-last and least talented of all the genin who graduated from the Academy, was stronger than Sakura who was considered one of the brightest kunoichi of her year. But to realize even her specs were overshadowed by a civilian stung far deeper.

She was just a normal girl who came from a family who lacked nobility as the clans of her village. Her parents weren't ninja like many others. She didn't have any reason to be a kunoichi other than a selfish desire to stand out and follow in the footsteps of her old friend and now rival, Yamanaka Ino. Tragedy didn't push her to achieve any greater strength than what she had gained with her soft hands. She didn't aim to overachieve like many others, finding herself satisfied with the skills she had now. She had no true concrete desire to climb for greater heights than the comfy plateau she found herself on now.

Honestly, she spent most of her free time before graduation following Sasuke around the village with many of the other female students who were fawning over his cool and aloof attitude.

As long as she was a kunoichi, as long as she fought alongside Sasuke, as long as she was adequate, she was fine.

But the real world outside her cozy village had been far more 'real' than what she had initially expected. She had nearly died hours upon leaving for a simple bodyguard mission. If it wasn't for someone else stepping in, she would have died.

Even if she grimaced at the truth she refused to speak of out loud out of pride, the goofball she always made fun of and looked down on, Naruto, was far more talented than her. He could use a forbidden jutsu capable of killing even a jonin with a few uses, and spam them without breaking a sweat. He could fight far better than herself. He was far more clever than she gave him credit for.

She had known for a while now.

Haruno Sakura was a weakling, an untalented girl who was seen as a fawning fangirl. But she had at least believed she could protect civilians if needed to. She was still a kunoichi, she still had some power and use.

Use which had withered under the cold gaze of a demon reeking of blood-lust and death.

Just...just what was she doing here?

"Haruno-san? Are you okay?"

Sakura blinked, emerald eyes meeting the concerned dark blue of the older boy whose left hand fell on her shoulder. She realized she had stopped cleaning his wound and been pressing the stinging medicine on the stinging hole in his foot.

"S-Sorry, Kamijou-san! I didn't mean to space out like that." Sakura laughed weakly.

Touma quirked a brow, not believing the poor attempt she was making of hiding her troubled thoughts. He scratched his cheek with an unsure expression conveying wanting to help but lacking the confidence to.

"Look, I know I'm still a stranger to you and everyone else. A guy like me has no right to butt into matters not concerning himself. But I got a habit of doing just that at every opportunity I see. Even if it's a small matter anyone would shrug off, I can't help but want to help however I can. So, if there's anything bothering you, you can vent to this Kamijou-san and not have to worry about being judged."

There it was again.

The kind smile and dark blue eyes speaking of a strong desire to protect the person in front of him.

It was the same expression that had greeted her after he had saved her from one of the Demon Brothers.

Sakura bit her lip as she grew conflicted.

She was a kunoichi, a weak one, but a kunoichi none the less. She had her pride at the very least. Wouldn't it be far more pathetic to speak of her own troubles to a boy who had nothing to do with them? As a ninja, shouldn't she be the one lending an ear to his problems?

A sigh fell out of her lips, releasing the pent up frustration and doubt she was holding in.

For whatever the reason, she couldn't see it in herself to not talk to the strange boy. There was just something about his eyes and words that made her react in kind.

"Kamijou-san...how do you do it?"

"Hm? Do what?"

"I mean, you're a civilian like Tazuna and his family. You can't use chakra like the rest of us. You've never been trained in even taijutsu! You're not strong like Kakashi-sensei. You're not talented like Sasuke-kun. You're not confident like Naruto! You're just a normal boy who shouldn't have any reason to fight alongside us against an enemy who can keep up with Kakashi-sensei. So, how is it that you're able to stand up and fight?!"

It didn't make any sense. Kamijou Touma wasn't a shinobi. He wasn't a mercenary. By his own admission, he was an untalented, untrained, normal human being. He was weaker than Sakura.

So why was it his back who had stood to play the shield to soak in the cruelty of a demon instead of her?

"I should be the stronger one. I should have been the one fighting alongside Sasuke-kun and Naruto. But instead, all I could do was cower as I watched over Tazuna while you did all the fighting. I should have been protecting you, not the other way around! But I couldn't. I failed to even stand tall when I needed to. But you, who lacks everything I do, stood up and fought. How? How can someone like you do what I couldn't to protect the people behind them?"

Her words were desperate and Sakura grimaced at how pathetic she sounded. But this was something she needed to know, no matter who it came from.

Until now, she had been perfectly fine with how things had been. Even if she was weaker than her teammates, she could make up for what she lacked with her intellect. She could be of use. She was still a kunoichi.

But now?

She wasn't sure what she was doing anymore. Other than mastering a simple chakra control technique, she wasn't any better or stronger for it. She was still the same Sakura who had graduated from the Academy and hadn't made any notable progress.

Seriously, what was she even doing?

How could she get any stronger other than training which had failed to do anything more?

"Why are you asking me? If you're hoping for some grand revelation or secret technique to be anything more than this simple-minded Kamijou-san, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but there's nothing to be said about what I do or why I fight. You don't need a reason, a gift, a power, or training, to simply grit your teeth and clench your fist to protect anyone. Honestly? I think you're doing just fine as you are now."

"W...W-What?"

Again, that kind smile greeted Sakura as Touma began fixing his shoe back on, speaking as if what he was saying was rather obvious.

"You're already strong, Haruno-san. So what if you stumbled a bit? So what if you were afraid? So what if you're not as strong as others? You're here, aren't you? You're fighting however you can despite your own doubts. And I think that's worthy of merit. So, I don't see why you need to find the answer you're looking for when you've already got it in you. You shouldn't try to copy what I, or others, do. Least of all me."

Blue eyes deeper in-depth and color than Naruto's sky blue wandered over to his right hand with a bitter gleam.

"I wouldn't say I wasn't afraid when I was fighting Momochi-san. Trust me, an ordinary guy like me was plenty afraid of the giant butcher knife-wielding man as you guys. Even if it wasn't the first time I've had to face such a human monster with nothing but my right hand, I was still terrified. But I guess the fear fell in line with what would happen if I didn't fight back. Whatever happened to me, I couldn't care less; I'm used to my body being put to the grinder and soaked in my own blood. A guy so uncaring of his own mortality isn't someone you want to be anything like."

Melancholy painted Touma words. Experience of countless incidents similar to battling a demon could be found in what he was speaking of. Suddenly, the average painting she had first taken notice of had grown more detailed and held far more to its colorful strokes. An unpleasant lump grew in Sakura's stomach at how callous the spiky boy spoke of his own life as if it wasn't anything worth fighting for.

Did...did he see himself far below everyone else?

"But if there is something I can say to a kunoichi who far surpasses this ordinary school boy who can't do anything more than resolve his troubles with violence; it's to simply fight for what you want, not what others want. To a ninja, I guess it's contradicting when you're told who to fight for, but I think if you just clench your fists for what you want, you can make up for whatever you're lacking as long as you don't lose faith in why it is you're fighting. After all, if a weakling like myself can do it, shouldn't it stand to reason someone far more gifted than them should be able to do far better than them?"

Clench your fists for what you believe in? Don't lose faith in what you're fighting for?

Sakura frowned softly at the words, unable to really comprehend how to use them to reach the heights of strength Touma possessed.

Was it really that simple for him? Was such thinking why he had fought against Momochi Zabuza?

A question came to mind, one she had to ask.

"And what is it that you're fighting for? You're a foreigner who's been separated from everything you should hold dear. What could you possibly be clenching your fist for?"

"That's easy."

Touma grinned casually at the confused pink-haired kunoichi.

"I don't need a single reason. You don't need to hand me some detailed explanation, some backstory, or reward; if someone is suffering in front of my eyes, I'll fight for them with everything I have no matter who stands in my way."

He didn't need a reason? As long as someone was suffering right in front of him, he would fight for them at the cost of even his own life? Wasn't that reason enough then? Wasn't saying he didn't need a reason a contradiction to the second half? Or did he not even see it worthy of being labeled as a reason?

To that foreigner who didn't have a place to return to on this new land of ninja, was it really as simple as that?

Touma's work-related injuries were treated as best she could. When he headed back to Tazuna's home, Tsunami would work to fix him up properly and see to any old bandages in need of changing. He had done enough to be of help for today.

He left Sakura with a wave behind his retreating figure, leaving the girl to mull over his advice.

She was fine as she was? She didn't need an answer to gain more strength when she had already possessed it? By simply being here and not running away when things had grown beyond her handling, she was strong?

She should have been unsatisfied by his response. She hadn't gotten anything worthwhile from opening herself up to someone who wasn't knowledgeable of the ninja life. If anything, she was left with more questions than answers.

Still…

A small smile did make its way to her face.

In some way, by simply telling her she wasn't doing anything wrong and was stronger than she believed in, Touma had relieved her of some of the weight she was carrying in her doubtful heart.

[-]

A groaning Touma sat with his naked back being soothed by the odd lime green cream being rubbed onto his aches and wounds by the gentle and soft hands of Tsunami.

Returning to Tazuna's home had been a good idea on the old man's part. The random acts of misfortune that had struck him had certainly added to the toll of wounds he was still healing from. And while Sakura had given him some first aid to dress the small cuts and lumps he garnered, he had forgotten the wounds from his fight with Zabuza had also been aggravated while he was working. A wound or two might have opened up without anyone noticing.

Bless the angel by the name of Tsunami. A true Onee-san like woman who didn't mind treating a useless guy like him when he was in pain. Then again, she was a mother, so it would be more appropriate to label her as the Kaa-san she was. The picture-perfect archetype of a mature woman who was the embodiment of nurturing and understanding to those delinquent like idiots like Touma who were caught in misfortune at every turn in what should have been a straight road.

Once he had stepped in to greet the widowed mother who was in the process of a certain project, she had taken notice at his lightly grimacing face and swiftly moved to see what was wrong. Even if he had tried to shrug her fussy hands and say he was just tired, Tsunami had stubbornly insisted on looking him over. Which led to him having to strip off the borrowed sleeveless v-neck shirt so she could see to his injuries better.

At first, he had been blushing to be seen half-naked by a woman who checked about every box in his ideal of a woman and squirmed as her eyes roomed over his skin and touched his sweaty chest and arms. He had to reel back his raging hormones at how close she had gotten. It had taken everything in his power to calm down the raging 'dragon' he possessed from rising to greet the sun with a roar.

He was happy to say he wasn't struggling to restrain himself as the lovely mother applied some kind of ointment on his back to deal with the aches before moving onto his right arm. Apparently, it was made of herbs he guessed were found only in this world of ninja. The cream felt cold, chilling the various stings and soothing his bruises with a pleasant minty fragrance to boot. He was going to have to see if he could take some with him once he left this village.

A guy as unfortunate as he would need to carry a first aid kit with him now that he was without Heaven Canceler's help.

"This is why I said it would have been better if you stayed in bed, Kamijou-san." Tsunami sighed as if she was speaking to her own unruly child, "You're not fit to be doing anything more than resting. Out of all the ninja, you were the one far more wounded than even Hatake-san. Now look at you; back home with more scrapes and bruises than before. Are you the type of boy who has an unhealthy obsession with being harmed?"

"Are you thinking I'm some kind of masochist? Because this idiot Kamijou-san refuses to be seen as such! It's not my fault a simple trip to grab a bite to eat results in being sent to the hospital by the end of the night! Blame my misfortune, it's the sadistic bastard who enjoys watching me being beaten black and blue for kicks!"

"Yes, yes, it's all your odd right hand's fault. Not yours for wanting to help when you could have been safe right here with me instead of working around heavy machinery."

"It doesn't matter the surrounding, my misfortune would strike with equal force no matter what; just in a different form. Just like yesterday."

Tsunami giggled at the groaning boy's lament, recalling the little stroke of bad luck he had encountered.

"I suppose that was rather unlucky of you to walk in on Haruno-san's while she was in the middle of changing. I almost thought one of Gato's men had broken in and attacked when I heard all the shouting. It's nice to see such a pretty girl as Haruno-san is strong enough to protect herself should the occasion rear its head."

"I haven't felt a punch that powerful since talking about swimsuits vs. underwear in front of one of my friends." Touma shivered, just thinking of how far said unconfident kunoichi would grow from here.

Did Sakura really believe she was weak? Did she not know how hard she could hit? As someone unlucky enough to be on the receiving end of countless punches by all manner of people ranging from thugs to Saints, he had to disagree. Sakura had one hell of a mean right fist for someone considering themselves as below a high school boy.

Tsunami didn't bat an eye to the perverted mentions of swimsuits and underwear, humming gently as she began to replace the old bandages on his chest with a new roll.

See? This was exactly why Touma favored older women like Tsunami over younger girls! They were understanding, they didn't jump at every little provocation, and were far above acts of violence! The serenity in their eyes, the calm aura exuding from their mature figures, and how they would fret over even delinquents or down on their luck idiots with a motherly smile on their faces. The wonders of Onee-sans and Kaa-sans was far beyond all other archetypes!

'Wait, Kaa-sans? Since we did I start fawning over them? I mean, I guess both are rather similar when you get down to it. B-But a Dorm Manager is still a must! Then again, no one says a Kaa-san can't be a Dorm Manager either, right? H-Have I just awoke to a new fetish?!'

Was this an awakening? Had this Kamijou-san evolved to a stage above Onee-san? Had his taste in women expanded?

"Don't worry, Kamijou-san. Girls Haruno-san's age are rather unsure of their feelings and can't express themselves beyond the occasional physical act of a punch to convey how they really feel. A boy like you shouldn't be a stranger to love taps."

Touma snorted at the mention of love taps. As if punches, zaps, bites, ear pulls, and any other form of physical pain on his person was an indicator of affection. If so, he'd have more admirers than he would care to do with. Plus, Aogami Pierce would be right about all the harem nonsense he was spouting with Tsuchimikado.

"I seriously doubt it, Tsunami-san. A guy like me isn't known for catching the eyes of any girl sane enough to steer clear of trouble. I'm more trouble than I'm worth."

"I've said it before, Kamijou-kun; just call me Tsunami. Adding the honorifics makes me feel rather old, you know? I'd like to believe I'm still a young and naive girl again, especially while I'm patching up an idiotic boy in over his head." she giggled pleasantly before tugging on his cheek as if he were a brat, "And what's this about not being worthy of being loved? I'm sure any girl would be ecstatic to have a boy like you holding them close with those strong arms of yours."

Touma blushed, his face reddening even more as he began to take notice of the soft hands of an older yet still youthful woman across his dirty and salty wet skin. Was it his imagination or did her fingers stray a little longer than usual on his biceps?

'Ecstatic, huh? I...I really doubt that.'

A bitter smile came upon Touma's face at the thought.

Romance was a subject he hadn't really desired to think on despite having a rather healthy obsession for the opposite sex. It was a touchy matter that made him very doubtful of ever gaining such a simple relationship anyone could attain if they tried. It wasn't as if he didn't want to find a girlfriend.

There just came the problem of a certain condition he carried with him.

A right hand trembled slightly as it clenched.

Being in a new world came with a slew of problems. Many of which preceded over common complaints of missing video games, his manga, and watching TV. One of said problems was an odd one which presented itself only in the new world.

For once, he had some time to himself to think.

True, he was caught up in protecting an old man from a mob boss with his own personal army, but other than that, he wasn't occupied with matters from his home. Index wasn't demanding food, he wasn't being chased around by BiriBiri, Othinus wasn't hanging over his shoulder(sadly), and he wasn't busy with the pile of unfinished school work demanding his attention. For once, he could let his mind wander to matters he normally didn't have the time to think about without being interrupted by the trouble maker of the day busting his door down.

No one was here to save him from thinking about his romance troubles. Troubles he already understood but couldn't stop from growing melancholic about.

"Trust me, someone who's always doomed to be followed by misfortune without a break to breath isn't going to be sought after or loved more than he should be."

In the near half-year which consisted of the current Kamijou Touma's memories, he had already accepted it. He understood it was very likely he would grow old without anyone to share his life with beyond the realm of a friend. It wasn't like the current heart beating in his chest belonged to him anyway. His life was a life handed down to him by someone far more deserving of feeling love than him.

Leaving aside the matter of his borrowed heart, it just didn't seem right to drag anyone else into his daily misery. What kind of villain would he be if he stooped to smiling as the one who dared to love him had to undergo all the crap the world routinely threw at him? To love Kamijou Touma would be to accept a life without fortune or miracles blessing their world.

He wouldn't ruin the smile of any girl who thought they could endure his brand of violent and cruel misfortune.

"If a girl came to me and confessed, I'm pretty sure I'd have to turn her down. I'm not so selfish or evil to drag them along to share my misery."

He didn't pay attention to how he said it, but the way he had spoken of rejecting the affections of someone else and their feelings was said so casually, one would have thought he was answering a question of what he had eaten this morning. The smile on his face was honest, lacking any bitterness or sadness one would expect from such a truth.

Once motherly, kind, and gentle fingers brushing against his wounded skin now fell to Touma's cheek.

And pinched.

Hard.

"Owsh! Whash ars yous doin Thsunami-shawn?!" The cheek pinched Touma cried as Tsunami pulled the face flesh like melting toffee.

The stern eyes of a mother glared at the whining boy. It carried the same weight and danger as the one he would find on his own mother back home. He whimpered like a dog being punished for chewing on the furniture.

"I don't know what sort of issues are plaguing you, Kamijou-san, but whatever they may be, I refuse to allow you to say something as horrible as denying yourself love! You're far too young to be saying such a heartbreaking thought better left tumbling out of a drunk old man in his forties. Especially when you're saying it with such acceptance. Do I need to give you a stern talking to, Kamijou-san?"

Was it wrong of him to want to say yes? Or that his pants were suddenly tight?

He shook his head, sighing in relief as Tsunami let go of his red cheek as the mother huffed.

"I may be stepping over my boundaries as I'm not your mother, but if I hear you say such things again, I will punish you." she smiled with a rather terrifying aura emitting from her kind face.

Note to self; be mindful of what you say around the very alluring Tsunami.

Touma decided to change the subject to save himself anymore scolding.

"By the way, are you having any trouble with my clothes? I know they ain't exactly made of the typical material commonly found in anything you may have seen."

At the moment, Touma was wearing borrowed clothing left behind by Tsunami's deceased husband. Due to his battle with Momochi Zabuza, his already badly beaten and torn clothing had been further damaged to the point he couldn't continue wearing them out anymore. It wasn't just a matter of his clothes being torn and shredded by a massive blade. All the dirt, water, and blood had clearly worn out the fibers. They were better fit to be called rags rather than clothing. If he had been in his original world, he would have had no choice but to throw them away.

But the clothes on his back were all he had left of his home. They carried precious memories he was reluctant to throw away just yet. It didn't seem he had a choice though.

Until Tsunami had said she could try her hand in sewing the torn clothing back together again. She said it would be her pleasure, believing it was the least she could do since he was willing to help protect her father from Gato's men.

At the mention of her little project, Tsunami seemed to grow excited.

"I admit, the fibers are certainly unlike anything I've ever come across before. Even with what little cotton, wool, and plastic fibers I have left, I can still repair a decent amount of the damage. I am having difficulty with these foreign fibers I've never seen before. But I'm still making some fine progress with the materials I have. It may take me a few days, but I'm confident I can fix them back as good as new!"

"I'm surprised you're actually capable of patching up my hoodie, jacket, and shirt at all. If I remember right, the material used for my clothing is rather special, using fibers that are resistant against the elements and tougher than normal thread. They may seem normal but they're actually incredibly expensive to replace; I should know. But from what I've seen so far, you've sewn the gashes and cuts so well that you can barely make out the scars. I even thought that I would have to make the painful decision of throwing my clothes away but you've done me a great favor in fixing them."

"Well, I do have a hobby sewing together new garments and clothing. I even sewed the very shirt I'm wearing. Knitting the cuts on your clothing was a bit difficult due to the durable thread but I've done just fine thanks to a little elbow grease. The real challenge right now isn't a few tears but knitting in three different sizes, textures, colored, and thread count sleeves. Not even the blood that had been staining the fibers had been that difficult to wash out."

A frown marred Tsunami's face as she finished treating the aching boy before taking a seat next to him. Shoulders touched from the close proximity of the bold woman that made Touma swallow nervously.

"Just how did you lose all three of your sleeves at once? I may not be a ninja like the others but even I could tell that the large stain of blood running down your entire right side of your body must have had something to do with your missing sleeves. It was almost as if your entire right arm had been ripped off." she joked at the ridiculous idea.

'No, this Kamijou-san did indeed lose his right arm due to the OP Isekia hand known as World Rejector. Obviously, I can't tell you or anyone that because you would all just question me how I still have said right back. I'm already weird as it is; the last thing I want to reveal to you all is that I can magically regenerate an entire limb like that.'

He still had no clue as to why that was either.

Imagine Breaker was referred to by both Ollerus and Othinus as the reference point of the world, reverting all irregularities to their original harmony due to unnatural forces. How the hell did the reference point of existence include high-speed regeneration of an entire right arm?! Was his arm an irregularity in the eyes of Imagine Breaker to restore when it was lost?

Scratching the back of his head in thought, Touma had to come up with a realistic lie.

"My orange shirt had already been torn off from an earlier fight before my hoodie and jacket sleeves followed. As for the blood, it was from the first fight I got into before a friend of mine used their power to fix me up. It's old news you don't need to worry yourself about." Touma explained in hopes of setting aside the subject.

Tsunami gave him a look saying she didn't completely believe him but relented. She had no right to pry into the compassionate boy's troubles. He was already doing more than a normal boy like him should in protecting her family from Gato's men.

"You certainly are a strange one, Kamijou-kun." Tsunami sighed with a small smile to the head tilting spiky boy.

"Kamijou-kun?"

Tsunami giggled, "Well if I want to be addressed without the formalities, I should address you the same in kind. You don't mind, do you?"

Not at all! Tsunami-chan could get as close and touchy with this Kamijou-san as she liked!

"I guess not." Touma swallowed nervously as he felt the faint vibrations of the widowed mother's giggle pass along to him from her shoulder.

For a few moments, the two sat outside the small home on the waters, enjoying the basking sunlight of the bright day lacking clouds in the nation of troubled waves.

The wounds on Touma's melted away as he forgot about his troubles, breathing in a simple sip of the clean ocean air with a small smile. Being exiled to a world cut away from the life he had built up from scratch with no memory, having absolutely no knowledge of a land he was lost with nothing to his name but his mangled clothing, caught in the troubles of a nation harassed by a mob boss and his militia of criminals eager for blood; none of those matters were present to haunt him in this small moment.

For the widowed mother, the shadows and cruel figures of those who desired nothing but to tear away her once happy world were momentarily blinded by a small light with great brilliance. For just a moment, her shoulders relaxed, and her anxiety, fear, grief, and troubles slipped away. Like the normal boy who was apparently as powerless and weak as herself, breathing in the clean ocean breeze with a serene smile.

For a new world, it wasn't all too bad. He certainly could have been dropped off into much shittier instances than this. Not to mention the company was pleasing. Maybe he'd only punch Kamisato a few times for being a prick when he returned.

[-]

"You know, Kamijou-kun, you didn't need to accompany me to pick up groceries for tonight's dinner." Tsunami brought up with a smile on her pleased face.

Touma rubbed the back of his head as he walked alongside Tsunami through what he had come to realize was the main village of Nami no Kuni. From what he had come to understand, Nami no Kuni was a small nation composed of various smaller islands floating in close proximity to another. The current island Team-7(+Touma) were residing in could be thought of as a capital like how Tokyo was Japan's main hub and known city.

Back to the matter on hand. Did she think he would just let her go alone when Gato's men were probably on the lookout for anyone connected to Tazuna to take as a hostage? Did she know nothing of how mobsters worked? She was exactly the type of woman thugs and criminals would prey on and snatch from a dark alley!

After getting dressed, Touma had been ready to return inside and get some much-needed rest for today's hard work. As Tsunami followed him in, she went to work on preparing tonight's dinner, only to realize she was lacking a few things to feed everyone. Due to the increase of mouths needing to be fed, she was going through her food and pantry quicker than normal. So, she decided to go out and see if she could grab a few items at the market.

Naturally, Touma had decided to go with her despite her protests she'd be fine.

"It was either stay in bed, doing nothing but reading Kakashi-san's dirty novels or accompany a pretty girl to the market. My choice was rather obvious. Not to mention it gives me an excuse to see more of the village rather than passing it by." Touma casually explained with a gaze around his surroundings.

From the looks of it, this really was an impoverished nation. Dirt roads, shacks of wood and steel, rusted pipes working as their plumbing, and filth coated every corner of the village in various forms of waste. Everywhere he looked he found villagers walking with boards asking for work, beggars sitting on the dirt or against shops, people in filthy rags that had given up, and the occasional thief running away with stolen food. If this were Academy City, Touma would have intervened to catch the thief, followed with a good old punch to the face.

Problem was the thieves he found were just kids younger than the genin Kakashi was teaching to be ninja. Sunken cheeks could be found on those innocent children committing a sin so they may quell the dreadful emptiness in their bellies.

Everything appeared rundown from shops to the people. Young to old, they kept their eyes low or stared ahead with expressions that spoke of having thrown in the towel. An unsettling emptiness could be found in every eye. Not even the bright sun overhead was worth even a slight tug on anyone's faces.

'Is this all because of Gato's influence? Seems he did more than robbing the village's resources; it's as if he stole their reasons to smile for kicks too. Can one man really rob an entire nation of their spirits?'

Regardless of the somber atmosphere, Tsunami giggled at being once again commented as pretty. The sun must have been getting to her since Touma could make out a flush of red on her cheeks.

"Hmm! Well, I can't say I don't mind the company. Especially when he says I'm pretty." Tsunami said with a cheery grin.

Touma smiled, happy the widowed mother had found her smile again. He wasn't sure of it himself but it seemed her smile was a little brighter than usual.

Even in the dim and hollowed setting around them, she kept a small spark to herself.

DRIP!

Said smile fell apart once he heard a satisfied moan accompanied by the displeasing sound of what Touma first thought was a hose but now realized was a haggard man doing some personal watering. Now that was just disgusting! Did Gato also steal their shame too?!

It was no surprise that Touma felt Tsunami hold his arm closer to her as they passed the publicly urinating man. He didn't even complain as said left arm was nestled firmly between two soft, firm, and very much modest mature breasts. Nope! He was a gentleman, he wouldn't think of it as anything more than providing the rattled woman support. Even if he was struggling to lose himself from the sensation of his bare arm sandwiched between flesh pillows hidden by what felt like thin fabric.

"We're here!"

Touma snapped out of the blissful moment to find themselves entering a small shabby produce market. Just upon entering, he noticed how bare the store was. Shelf after shelf contained only scraps of vegetables, fruits, grains, and bread. Meat couldn't be found so he assumed that most of the protein villagers were able to get their hands on was probably self-caught either through fishing or hunting. What could be found made this poor student feel sympathetic as his own kitchen back home was just as bare after feeding Index.

Following behind Tsunami, he noticed they were the only ones in the store at the moment. Other than the owner who listlessly observed his patrons. It didn't seem they cared if they even robbed what little he had. He was just tired, exhausted.

"It appears that we're going to have to get creative with dinner tonight. Normally I don't have as much trouble when I'm feeding Tou-san, Inari-kun, and myself but now that we've got five extra mouths to feed who need plenty to eat, I've had to improvise to satisfy everyone's needs."

Tsunami was talking to herself, eyeing what produce she had found with a face painted with conflict. Touma looked over what items she had gotten for tonight's dinner with scrutiny.

Rice, three tomatoes, one cabbage, two carrots, three potatoes, a few herbs, and that was pretty much it.

All these ingredients wouldn't be enough to be called a TV watching snack for Index. This was what was going to be used to feed eight people?

"Why not grab a few more vegetables? Even though there isn't much left, I'm sure you could satisfy everyone with some more veggies in tonight's dish." Touma advised.

Tsunami shook her head, her face saddened as she explained.

"There's a policy the owner, Midori-san, wishing everyone to follow to ensure everyone can eat; No more than three of each item. Due to Gato's stranglehold over the village, most of our food is taken by his men to feed themselves, leaving us with the barest of the leftovers to sell to our own people. All we can do is try to share what remains but there are plenty of villagers who would rather take what they can for themselves. Half the time Midori-san loses what produce he's gotten a hold of to thieves who can't afford anything or need more than he allows to be bought for their family."

The market owner, Midori-san, regretfully nodded his head. Upon recognizing Tsunami, the old weathered vendor seemed to have his spirit lifted as he smiled wearily.

"Times have been tough for a long time even before Gato dug his way into our economy. But we were at least able to feed ourselves without resorting to stealing from our friends and neighbors. Now all I can sell are damaged goods. It wasn't always like this. Why, I remember when I had my own butcher, Hocho-san, who had always provided my place with the best cuts of wild boar meat he could hunt. He was a generous man, giving away the meat for me to sell as long as it was at a price everyone could afford." Midori chuckled wistfully before his face was burdened by grief.

"He was a good man. I shouldn't have been surprised by what became of him."

Bringing along what they could to the counter, Touma couldn't help but ask.

"What happened to him?"

Midori stared at Touma, studying the boy for even bothering to listen to his mumbling. His eyes were cast aside as he answered with a tremble in his voice. The face on the weathered man spoke of a stubborn desire to refuse to show weakness despite the visible emotional cracks in his visage.

"One of Gato's samurai demanded that Hocho-san hand over all the meat he had been providing for us. But he had refused and fought back. Hocho-san was a good man, a proud man, a man who thought of others before even himself. He wasn't the kind of slime who would bend over and crawl on all fours to a bastard with a knife. If I remember right, he died with the monster's eye in his bloody hand. You would think that the samurai would have cried out in pain and run back to his boss. Instead, the lunatic with only one eye had carved Hocho-san to pieces as if he were a pig with an excited grin stretching across his face. Next morning we find the slabs of my own friend thrown out in the middle of the village to fed their dogs."

The pop of knuckles from rage trembling knuckles was all Touma could say to the grizzly death of someone he had never met.

What...what was there to say? Really? What could this outsider say or express to someone who had lost someone dear when Touma was merely a passing stranger?

An ugly mass centered itself in his gut with the lack of an answer.

Ringing the items up with a long sigh, Midori handed them back to Tsunami before shaking his head at the offered Ryo.

"Don't, Tsunami-chan. Of all the people in this village, I can't take your money. Your father is actually working hard to do something for this village, unlike us who have given up. Our hero needs to be well fed and not worry about money right now, especially when you're all housing ninja from Konoha for protection." Midori said with the slightest of smiles.

"You know about the ninja Tazuna-san hired?"

The old man turned to regard Touma, pushing up his small glasses with a hum of interest as he finally noticed the position the boy was in due to his left arm still hugged against Tsunami's chest. The teen awkwardly tried to look away at the gaze of the old man and his position with a pretty woman like Tsunami had him in.

"Of course. How else do you think Tazuna-san was able to gather the Ryo required to fill out the request? The bridge he's building is our last hope to escape Gato's grasp and start over. Maybe the sight of it in its completed glory will inspire those slackers and thieves to find the courage to try again. It's why I gave up all that I could save from Gato's ridiculous vendor tax to him. I know several others who put their trust in him and his bridge too, risking their lives in lending Tazuna-san the Ryo needed to sneak out of the village and hire shinobi. I know it may seem we have all given up; I don't blame you."

The old vendor smiled bitterly, seeming to see himself in the majority of those who have had their reasons to smile taken from them. But unlike those majority he considered himself a part of, he was still standing with a defiant speck in his bitter and worn smile.

"But this nation still has some will to fight, if only in the shadows. We are not so hopeless as to accept this shitty reality spun by some greedy mole."

In other words, the listless vendor hadn't given up entirely. Neither had this village. It was weak, no more than a pathetic charcoal remain that smoked with the barest hint of flames, but the people's will to fight back was still there. All they were waiting for was for a strong gust of wind to help breathe back that raging fire again.

Warmth, however faint, however feeble, however pathetic, however dismal it was caught by the human eye was still burning in the hollow corpse of a nation without heroes or champions.

Touma saw it in the old man's tired eyes. He could see a light still being held strong even as he suffered.

"Even if it means risking your life, you're still willing to put up a fight, aren't ya, Midori-san? Old men really are a stubborn bunch." Touma grinned impressively.

The grin was infectious, spreading to Midori as he crossed his frail, boney arms over his chest.

"What do you take me for? I'm far too gray to just lay down and take a beating without a complaint! But this old man is far too weak to fight anymore, so I can only entrust my fighting spirit to a younger man to keep the fight going!"

"Tou-san is considered 'young' to you?" Tsunami blinked.

Touma quirked a brow, "Just how old are you?"

"Never you mind! Point is, even if you can't see them or hear them, there are still people in Nami no Kuni willing to fight against Gato's reign! This little island has yet to have its spirits broken! We'd be spitting on Kaiza's grave if we di-!"

Midori shut his mouth before he could finish, his face speaking of regret as he regarded Tsunami with an apology.

"S-Sorry, Tsunami-chan, I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright, Midori-san, You don't have anything to apologize for."

Midori was stunned, gaping as the widowed mother didn't show any sign of sadness or pain at the mention of her deceased husband. Everyone in the village knew better than to mention anything regarding Kaiza or heroes to either Tsunami or her son, Inari. The mere allusion to their champion had always caused the two great pain. Inari would always run away, cursing others for believing heroes could exist. Tsunami would always try to hide her grief behind a strained smile and excuse herself.

But the daughter of Tazuna had changed. The smile he was greeted with wasn't fake nor was it an attempt to bury the memory of her husband's tragic death. In fact, it reminded him of the same woman of long ago who adored her family and nation.

"I know Kaiza-kun would be proud that you and the other villagers are still fighting for our nation. And hopefully, soon, Tou-san's efforts will have proven that we still have something to hope for. He's always called his masterpiece a symbol of courage, so I'm happy to see even though it's not complete, that it can still give you the strength to try."

"T-Tsunami-chan..."

Where had the silently suffering woman gone? The one who refused to speak about either her father's working legacy of courage or her hero of a husband who had fought to push back Gato's control? What had happened to her since the last time he had seen her days go for her to undergo such a drastic change?

He was too stunned by the woman's bright smile to notice the Ryo she forced into his hands against his wishes.

"That's why I insist that you take the Ryo, Midori-san. It won't be long until we can all return to those halcyon days where we can all eat without a rumbling stomach to be heard or have need to take from those we cherish either. I know Kaiza-kun would say the same if he were here right now. He would ask that you simply fight a little longer because Tou-san is working his hardest to save us all. And thanks to the Konohagakure no Sato ninja, I know we won't have to be afraid much longer either!"

To see such energy and warmth back into those once tired eyes was enough to make Midori's weathered orbs glisten.

Perhaps the hope he had clung onto wasn't the worthless embers of a man not long for this world after all.

'Is it...really so strange?'

Touma stood by with a curious gaze at the exchange between the widowed mother and the tired old vendor. His brows furrowed as he noticed how something as small as a smile from the woman next to him was enough to nearly bring the still fighting spirit who had little years left in him to tears.

'It's as if he's doesn't even recognize Tsunami anymore. Like he was just treated to a nostalgic memory of long ago, of time before everything they cherished was taken from them. Was Tsunami...was she just like them too? Did she have the same emptiness in her eyes? Had she given up and simply been listlessly encouraging her Tou-san in his dreams of giving their nation the courage to fight for a better tomorrow?'

Had the woman smiling with hope next to him really changed since the arrival of the Konoha ninja arrived with her father in once peace?

He didn't know, and he probably wouldn't ever really know without prying into the woman's smile. So he wouldn't ask and simply continue as if he never noticed anything wrong.

Digging up painful times wouldn't do anything more than diminish the smile of either of those two hopeful fighters. Even the mention of a name he didn't recognize but realized held significant meaning to Tsunami didn't matter right now.

Kamijou Touma was a stranger, an extra addition to this story concerning the main character's composed of the Konoha ninja and the citizens of Nami no Kuni. He was simply an extra body. If he could help in some way, he would no matter what form his hand would take.

No further reasons were needed to help those who were silently pleading to be saved.

"It may be painful, it may seem hopeless, and it may seem naive to fight a fight that's impossible to win but grit your teeth, Midori-san. That hero you've invested all your hopes to will surely grant you that most cherished wish!"

Midori was speechless as some random nobody he had never met until today recognized his small will to fight.

They weren't foolish.

They weren't naive.

They weren't a waste of time.

Those feelings in his withered heart were right and just.

Having hope for a tomorrow with smiles on everyone's faces wasn't some mere illusion of an old man who should have passed on.

Quivering from head to toe, the old man with glistening eyes wanted to say something, anything, to those young children who recognized his spark with their own youthful rebellion.

A terrible blood-curdling scream interrupted those three hopefuls.

"PLEASE, I-I CAN PAY YOU BACK IF YOU JUST GIVE ME ANOTHER FEW DAYS! PLEASE, I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

Flesh was struck with an audible wet thwack. The once tranquil atmosphere was shattered by terrifying screaming and even a few people ran inside Midori's market to hide from the sickening cracks heard outside. The sight of the frightened folk cowering from the cruel jeers was all the old vendor needed to understand the situation. The orbs glistening with tears dried and steeled with disgust marring his wrinkled face.

"Are those bastard's really collecting this early?! I thought we had until Friday until they stopped by for Gato's money? Damn monsters can't even give us some time to pay up!"

"It's not that, Midori-san!"

One of the cowering villagers spoke up, catching Midori, Touma, and Tsunami's attention.

"The bandits are going around the village demanding information on the shinobi that were hired by Tazuna-san for protection. They're using the early collection round as an excuse for those who haven't been able to gather the money to either pay up with information or die. T-They've...they've already killed five people who refused to rat out Tazuna-san's bodyguards."

Killed?

One simple word caused a sickening chill to stab Touma's chest.

Beaten flesh and a crunch of bone loud enough for those inside the market to hear caused everyone to flinch numbly. Sobs could be heard from the younger children who didn't even have a parent to comfort them. All they could do was tremble as the attackers continued to laugh cruelly as they played with their recent victim.

"P-p-please...I...don't know...a-anything about t-the n-ninja…!"

THWACK!

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Lies.

An invisible group of villagers still fought back the clutches of Gato's menacing army of cruel blades. There were people among the defeated and resigned nation who still had reason to resist this dull and hollow reality of being seen as nothing more than wallets and playthings.

THWACK!

"EHEHAHAHAHAAHA!"

Among those outside, there were people who knew of the ninja who hailed from the nation of Hi no Kuni, powerful warriors from a famous hidden village known as Konohagakure no Sato. They may have known their names. It was possible they may have known where they were training at this very moment. A treasure of information was locked in not just their heads but their hearts.

THWACK!

Yet those valuable treasure troves refused to buckle. Even as they were being hammered by blunt tools or hacked by eviscerating blades. Those main characters wouldn't crack before villians.

"Come on! If you don't speak up at this point, I'll start to think you're some kind of masochist who gets a hard-on when I'm pounding away on them until blood's squirting out! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Someone was fighting, struggling to resist Gato's control and reclaim their normal lives however they could.

Touma couldn't stand the thick body blows he was hearing any longer!

"Tsunami, if you see a chance, run back home. Don't stop running and don't turn back! Midori-san, please watch over her until it's safe to leave!"

A crack was heard despite being drowned out by the next wet and meaty thwack.

Tsunami's voice was caught in her throat as Touma handed her the groceries and ran out of the market. Before she could even reach her hand out to him, Midori had moved over the counter to hold her back. She struggled to remove the kind market owner's arms, failing as she could only stare in horror as the boy who had helped her let go of her pain leave her sights to the sounds of cruel violence.

A memory of long ago flashed before her quivering eyes flowing with tears.

The memory of a stern and determined back vanishing before her eyes in the savage and thrashing waves of violence replayed itself.

And…

Once again…

Her feeble and frail hand had failed to latch onto the hand ready to disappear to play the cursed role of Hero.

[-]

There was no need to think.

Touma didn't need to run around the village to search for whoever was responsible for the meaty blows that scared off everyone from the dirt street. All he had to do was leave the market's safety and turn left to find the culprits. Immediately his face grew disgusted at what he saw.

A group of four men, all dressed to appear as bandits hired no doubt by Gato, were circling over the beaten body of a villager who could only twitch. The man's body was scuffed by visible sandal prints from various stomps, green and blue bruises painted what visible skin could be seen, and blood caked his face along with a broken tooth glued to his chin. Just from a glance, it didn't look like he could even speak, let alone breathe.

His mangled condition meant nothing to the four bandits who sneered at him. One had even spat at his face with a sickening grin.

"You don't get it, do you, Boshi-san? Then let me make it nice and simple for that thick, cracked head of yours." The tallest and most sadistic of the bandits jeered with a lick of the katana blade he wielded.

The bandit's single eye was wide with a sadistic gleam as he knelt down to the blood coughing villager. His body was toned from years of training seen by his shirtless visage, separating himself from the common bandits labeled as grunts. He had various tattoos on his person and he appeared as a strange mix between a samurai and a pirate due to the eyepatch on his left eye and his gruff appearance labeling him as some sea buckling swordsman.

Stained teeth were spread wide in a sick flash of pleasure at the hardly audible words tumbling out of the beaten and bloody man at his feet.

"See, Gato's become a little impatient and decided that you all should be more than willing to pay up our compensation fees for letting you live in peace early. It's rather abrupt and short notice, I know. But he's not so cruel as to understand if you don't have it yet; it is a last-minute notice after all. So, he's decided to overlook this late payment for just the easy to pay fee of information concerning the Konohagakure shinobi Tazuna has hired."

Steel flashed to pierce the dirt next to the beaten villager's face, grazing the man's cheek to cause a thick trickle of blood to flow out against the katana's edge.

"Failure to pay up, either way, will sadly result in loss of protection! This means I can't stop the bandits following me around from sharpening their weapons with your flesh! Or, better yet,"

The iris of the bandit's leader's right eye grew wide with pleasure at the sight of the man at his feet squirming as he licked his lips.

"They could take out their own personal urges with that family of yours! What, you got a rather well-endowed wife, right? Not to mention two girls who've just turned twelve and thirteen? Be a fucking shame if, hypothetically speaking, they found themselves kidnapped earlier today, waiting to be forced to the ground and stripped to the pleasure of a bunch of filthy men who haven't bothered washing for weeks! And all because their daddy and husband refused to save them, abandoning them so that they would be played with for hours!"

Tears now mixed with the blood flowing from the villager's face, his sobs gurgled by his urge to save his family or give up a friend. Even the threat of death was nothing compared to the disgusting fate he would be dropping onto his wife and daughters.

He couldn't take it, he couldn't do that to them!

Against his judgment, Boshi opened his split, quivering, lips and-!

"OI! GET THE FUCK OFF OF HIM, YOU PIECE OF FUCKING SSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTT!"

A vicious roar broke the hollering laughter of the demon standing over Boshi's beaten body.

What followed next took everyone by surprise.

Running footsteps could be heard before the voice's owner broke into the circle of bandits with nothing more than a right fist spearing forward. The head of the bandits, a samurai known as Waraji, found himself gaping as one of the bandits he was making rounds with was thrown off his feet by a fist smashing deeply into his face. Blood was seen spurting out as the bandit's body collided with another to send them toppling over. Taken by surprise, Waraji moved to grab his katana and retaliate with a swift slash.

Touma didn't allow Waraji the time needed to react, driving his foot to nail itself on the drawing pirate/samurai's right foot, preventing the man from taking another step or back away. Fueled by the ever-familiar mixture of rage and adrenaline in his veins, the spiky teen used this form to his advantage to throw everything he could behind his next punch.

Kamijou Touma wasn't overly strong. He wasn't overly talented. What fighting skills he possessed he believed were nothing more than amateur tricks collected in the back alleys of Academy City and his clashes with both Magicians and Espers. He wasn't as strong as the main characters this story was centered on.

None of it mattered as he planted his right fist deep into the once sadistic grin faced bandit with the sound of cartilage being smashed to squash against his knuckles. One blow to the face knocked the leader back onto the ground.

Noting the katana driven into the ground, he stole it before the samurai before he could rise up and bear the single metal fang back. The bandits circling them snapped out of their stupor and moved to attack. Now that Touma had a weapon to defend himself with, he rounded on the bandits with a spinning slash only found in a certain video game of blond-haired elf boy.

The circling steel was enough to scare the lowly grunts who stumbled back to avoid the cutting edge.

Good, Touma really didn't want to test his kenjutsu against those who were more skilled than him. He was a brawler who was more comfortable with his fists than a killing weapon. Using knives, guns, or bombs weren't his thing when he could resolve most problems with just Imagine Breaker.

Now though wasn't a time where Imagine Breaker would do him any good. He may not have liked it but he was going to have to rely on a killing tool to push back those weak leveled grunts.

His grip on the standard, chipped katana was one of an amateur. Just like when he fought the dummy made of earth during the Endymion event not too long ago, his form was shit and would only ever work against others who were just as inept as he was. But it would have to do.

Carefully, he aimed the deadly killing tool's point at those stunned and wary bandits as he stood by the speechless villager on the ground.

"Can you stand?"

Boshi flinched at the sound of Touma's voice but slowly nodded.

"Good to know. I know it may hurt and that your body might not even listen to you, but you have to stand up and get out of here! Run home, find shelter, do whatever you can to escape as far as you can until these bastards have been kicked out of Nami no Kuni!"

One of the bandits had enough of standing back. With a wooden club decorated with brass studs, the smirking bandit charged at Touma with an overhead swing to bash his skull to pieces.

Touma had reacted much faster than anyone had expected. He forwent the double grip stance most katana wielders practiced and gripped the hilt of the old katana with one hand as he stepped into the surprised bandit's guard. Before the grunt could slam his club down, Touma took advantage of the katana's killing potential to send it spearing forward into the man's midsection.

The sharp steel edge would easily cut past flesh, muscle, tendons, and tear apart the bandit's intestines in one swift action. His death would be slow and agonizing as his stomach acid flooded his insides.

Seeing his life flash before his eyes, the grunt attempted to jump back but found himself stumbling as his club was already raised up high for maximum damage. Touma grinned in victory as he dropped his left arm that wielded the rushing sword and switched to his right fist.

The katana was nothing more than for show, a tool for intimidation he would only use to attack if he was without any options to use. Using it as a feint, he made the bandit believe he was going in for a kill strike. No one would have seen it coming unless they knew of Touma's personality.

Cracking his fist tightly, Touma delivered a strong uppercut into the wide-eyed bandit's chin to send him soaring up into the air. From the sounds of a crack, he must have broken the man's jaw.

As the bandit's unconscious body hit the ground, the club he had been using had fallen with him. Touma eyed the blunt instrument before glancing at the chipped katana in hand. He shrugged, deciding it would work out more to his favor if he traded up. He reached for the club, noting it was just as tall as the katana with a thin body and created with brass studs for more stunning blows. He would have called it a baseball bat improvised for a barbarian class character.

A bashing weapon like this was much more his style.

For good measure though, Touma stabbed the katana into the dirt and swung the club far back before slamming the thick wooden weapon against the back of the sharp samurai tool.

Did you know that the Japanese katana was actually a fragile weapon? It was beautiful, sharp enough to slice through trees with the proper strength and refinement, and a staple for those powerful eastern warriors. But its beauty betrayed its durability. Especially a katana as weathered, chipped, and poorly maintained as the samurai who owned this particular sword.

Touma struck the weakest point of the Japanese blade; the back. Compared to the club, it was the weaker of the two. Its metal body shattered to pieces with one heavy strike.

"You're all that's left, huh? Well, what are you waiting for? All your buddies are knocked out cold. Now it's up to you to avenge them. So, why the hell are you standing there like a coward?"

Touma spat furiously at the lone bandit that was still standing with a long sword. The bandit flinched under the unforgiving gaze of who he believed was another villager, one that had taken three of them out in just a matter of moments.

"D-Do you even know who we are?! If you mess with us, you mess with Gato-sama! You're literally throwing your life away if you get-"

"I don't fucking care!"

The furious shout took the hired bandit back. He found himself sweating anxiously as the spiky-haired boy took a step forward with the studded club ready to break his bones.

"I've had enough of hearing Gato this, Gato that; Gato, Gato, GATO! If he's so threatening then how about he steps off his golden throne and fight his own battles! Otherwise, he's nothing more than a lazy piece of shit who thinks he can have whatever his grubby little hands can grab because of a mountain of scrap paper! If you think I'm too scared to fight back or stand up when an innocent villager is being beaten to death because of the threat of some pompous piece of gold-painted garbage then-!"

Touma charged straight at the unnerved bandit. Gritting his teeth, the man swung his long sword for a wide slash only for his eyes to widen as Touma copied his action, slamming his blunt studded club to meet the edge of his sword. Slicing metal cut against Touma's forearm up to his shoulder but he endured as his club smashed into the shaken grip of the bandit he was aiming for. He could hear the finger bones break from the smashing blow that forced his opponent to drop his weapon.

"YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER THING COMING, DUMBASS!"

Breaking into the bandit's guard, Touma finished him off with a forehead smash against the man's own sweaty forehead. Blood leaked out as the temple skin was broken before the man's eyes rolled back. With a weak groan, he dropped to the ground, unconscious with a broken hand.

Touma stood over the defeated bandit, panting with a grimace as blood trickled from the newest wound on his person.

Weak, every last one of those grunts was no different than the average Skill-Out back home. They must have relied on numbers and intimidating weapons to make the villagers fear them. If their victims were too afraid to fight back, the bandits were more than free to do as they pleased.

What a bunch of sick, pathetic, cowardly bastards.

Flailing his right fist while massaging his aching head, Touma returned to the bloody villager. He offered his hand to the still cowering man, smiling reassuringly.

"Can you stand?"

The fear melted away the instant Boshi found Touma's hand waiting for him. Tears once again fell from the sobbing man's battered face as his body trembled. Moments ago he had been on the receiving end of a savage pummeling that painted him in hues of red, blue, black, and green that made breathing painful. His vision was blurred by both tears and the slow claws of unconsciousness dragging him away from the waking world.

He could feel it, the darkness swallowing him whole.

Which was why he grabbed his savior's hand, trembling with losing strength as he begged through an ugly sob.

"P-Please, s-save them! Save my...g-girls! D-Don't let Gato...don't l-let G-Gato..."

Boshi's grip fell limp and would have slipped out of Touma's hand if he hadn't held onto it.

Touma clenched his teeth, seething as the ugly sobbing man passed out before conveying his most desired wish to some random stranger.

There was no need for the man known as Boshi to finish his sentence.

This secondary character understood the passed out man's wish loud and clear.

"Are ya forgetting something, boy?!"

Touma cursed as he was forced to spin around with a swing of his newly acquired weapon. The wooden club was struck by the jagged remains of the katana's broken blade that left it at half its original length. The face of the eye-patch samurai was shoved into Touma's face, unnerving him as the single visible eye was flung open wide with a sadistic gleam.

The broken Japanese sword bit down further into the club, threatening to split right through.

"I got to hand it to you, boy! That was one mean punch! It took me a few moments to shake off the darkness but I'm glad I did. It's been far too long since I could find a worthy adversary to cut up with my blade!"

Touma grunted beneath the pressure of Waraji's was exerting with his broken blade, "Don't tell me you're the kind of freak that gets a hard-on when he's beating people up? Why can't you meathead's find a vanilla fetish to obsess over instead of falling for such extreme kinks?!" he shouted with a kick striking the kneecap of Waraji's left leg.

The blow worked its magic causing Waraji to flinch. His strength faltered for just a moment, allowing Touma to push the shirtless, tattooed samurai back and free the man's broken katana from his club.

Waraji could only grin as he skipped back.

"Impressive. Unlike the usual fodder I've eviscerated, you actually got a bit of skill to take out my buddies and snap my nose." Waraji complimented with a sickly crack of his bloody nose, "I like that! I've been so bored with mindlessly hacking, and hacking, and hacking at meat dummies that I've been wishing one of you weaklings to stand up and fight! Gotta say, it took you a little longer than I had hoped to piss you off. What? Was five bodies your limit today?" he cackled devilishly.

"Where are they?"

Waraji appeared curious, tilting his head at the silently livid boy's demand.

"They? Who are you talking about?" he said with a sharp gaze.

"The wife and kids that you kidnapped, you sick pirate/samurai freak! Where the hell did you take them!?"

"Oh? What the hell do you care about this deadbeat's family? You their uncle or something?" he said with a casual scratch of his chin, "If you're looking for them then you'd be after our little camp in Sector D. All you'd need to do is keeping running straight to find it. That's where we keep most of the prisoners that we hold for ransom or labor work. Not like such information will do ya any good. I don't have the need to drag some butchered corpse over there!" he grinned maliciously.

What remained of Waraji's chipped katana was beared at half it's original length. It was a broken killing tool but a killing tool none the less. Finely shaped steel forming a clean slicing edge now resembled mangled and misshaped fangs now only able to tear.

"Why are you even getting in between our fun? If ya wanted to die, wait your turn. Let me enjoy myself with carving this idiot up for a bit and then I'll return to treating you in kind!"

Standing in the way of fully accepting the passed out main character's wish to a secondary character like Kamijou Touma was a shattered fang seeking blood.

Against a tearing claw of cruelty, an outsider and stranger to the main story tightly balled his fist.

"A man fought his hardest to protect not only his nation but his family. He tasted dirt and blood for the sake of others rather than himself. But you bastards forced him to choose between the two all the while giggling like children at all the red you were painting! You tried to turn him against everything he holds dear and thought you could crush his wish with an ugly smile on your face!"

Red stained Touma's palm.

The blood did not belong to him.

"He fought to the point of being broken and had no choice but hand over his most beloved of wishes to some secondary character. Before it could slip from his twitching fingers, he handed it over with tears and a cry in his voice."

Something invisible dwindled in the red drying on his palm, something the spiky teen took a grip of as he faced the ruthless samurai's lone broken fang with a firm gaze.

"If you want to stand in the way of that man's wish, go ahead and just try! I'll smash your fucking face deep into the dirt before I let you ever touch a single hair on that hero's face ever again!"

It was time for violence to do the talking.


Something invisible rests in your hands.

Even in this land devoid of heroes and champions, something invisible lays in the hands of those who refuse to accept this shitty reality.

Even if you have lost your original path, clench it.

Before the hungry hyenas devouring the soul of those main characters fighting for the dregs of their normal lives, secure that invisible wish with everything you have.

You don't need to be a hero do something as simple as that.

And so we move onto some original material next! What? Did you expect we'd dive straight into confronting Zabuza or something as cliche as a training arc? As if! Do not understand the concept of misfortune or ripple effects? Nothing is ever simple when it involves everybody's favorite high school boy!

Against a ronin butcher, just what can a high school boy with a useless right hand do against an opponent who far outclasses him? Eh, he'll wing it. And get hurt. Typical.

I can't promise anything, but I'll try to update again sometime this month. Cause, you know, Christmas. Or Happy Holidays, all that twinkling and festive jazz. Until then, practice patients! It's a virtue, you know?

Read and Review! It's common courtesy.

NeoShadows fading in and out.