Takeshi was wolfing down his food, while Kakuzu couldn't even be bothered to take off his mask.
"I've actually always been curious—can that body of yours even enjoy food?"
"No."
Kakuzu's answer was blunt and concise.
"Oh, that's great—saves on the food bill."
Takeshi nodded, as if this were exactly the answer he'd expected.
Kakuzu turned his head. "So you're paying for yourself."
Tch, just as expected.
Takeshi waved for the waiter. "Bill, please."
He handed over some cash. The waiter took it and was about to give him change, but Takeshi stopped him with a raised hand.
"Keep the rest as your tip."
The moment the words left Takeshi's mouth, Kakuzu's expression shifted in an instant.
A chilling aura burst from him, the floorboards beneath their feet seeming to crack.
"Ahem."
Takeshi cleared his throat lightly, dispelling Kakuzu's displeasure.
The waiter wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling as though he'd just taken a stroll through the Pure Land.
"Thank you very much."
The waiter bowed politely to Takeshi.
"No need to thank me. Oh, by the way, I've been wondering—are there a lot of vagrants in this city?"
He pointed outside at a passing homeless man, hoping to glean some information.
"Yes. All because of those ninjas—never a peaceful day. We common folk suffer right along with them. Speaking of which, lately there's been a young boy loitering around the trash bins out back. Poor kid—cold as it is, he doesn't even have shoes..."
The power of money loosened the waiter's tongue entirely; he spilled everything, even what shouldn't be said.
"Oh? Out back, you say?" Takeshi's expression turned playful.
...
Snow drifted down from the sky, but the boy huddled across from the trash bin had only a set of thin, tattered clothes to shield him from the cold.
Just as the waiter had said, he didn't even have shoes.
His small feet were covered in grime and dried blood. Just one look was enough to imagine what kind of life he must have been living.
A middle-aged man ambled up to the bin with a bag of trash, glanced at the boy, and clicked his tongue in annoyance, silently cursing his bad luck.
He tossed the bag without checking if it even landed inside, then hurried out of the alley.
Haku didn't know how long he'd been wandering this city—only that the snow never stopped, and that his stomach had been growling nonstop, just like the falling snow never ceased.
Scurrying over to the trash bin on hands and feet, Haku tore open the bag the man had just thrown away, searching for anything that could fill his belly.
Seems my luck isn't so bad today, he thought.
He fished out a chicken carcass, gnawed down to a few scraps of meat.
Driven by hunger, he didn't care how much was left—he was ready to taste it.
"Hold it, kid. Eat that, and you'll be sick."
A pale, slender hand caught his wrist. Following the hand upward, Haku saw an androgynously beautiful person standing behind him.
While Haku stared at Takeshi, Takeshi was also sizing him up.
Despite the dirt covering his face, there was no mistake—this child was Haku.
"Looks like my luck's even better—I found you without much effort."
Takeshi smiled pleasantly, gently prying the garbage from Haku's hand. He took out a tissue and carefully wiped the boy's hands clean.
"Alright. Come with me."
With the last speck of dirt wiped away, Takeshi took his hand.
Haku didn't resist. Though he had no idea who this person was, some instinct told him Takeshi was someone he could trust.
Or maybe—it didn't matter who it was. Anyone who reached out to him, Haku would cling to tightly.
It was the only way to find a reason to keep living.
Takeshi held him close, showing no hint of distaste for the grime on his body.
From this close, Haku caught the scent of him—a faint, delicious aroma of soy sauce and tofu.
Yes, the scent of the yudofu Takeshi had just eaten.
...
A bath, new clothes, and a proper meal.
With the new outfit, Haku's delicate features were fully revealed to Takeshi and Kakuzu.
Takeshi: How about it, Kakuzu? Cute kid, right?
Kakuzu: Hm? Ah, yeah, cute. Much cuter than you.
Takeshi: That's harsh. I'd like to think my looks hold up pretty well.
Kakuzu: If we're talking looks alone, sure.
Takeshi: ...What's that supposed to mean?
Ignoring Kakuzu's slander against a jinchūriki's dignity, Takeshi began introducing himself—and Haku's new identity.
"Anyway, starting today, you're my dad's—Shimura Danzo's—illegitimate child. From now on, you're Shimura Haku."
Danzo's illegitimate child?
Kakuzu nearly threw his back out.
Kakuzu: Brat, if your old man hears that, he'll tan your hide.
Takeshi: Shows what you know. I'm bringing him the Ice Release kekkei genkai—he'll be overjoyed. No way he'd beat me.
"Our old man may look stern all the time, but his temper's not bad. Only time he gets mad is when he drags you out to train Wind Release. Other than that, he's easy enough to get along with."
"There's also a kid named Yamato at home. He usually handles fixing up the house and stuff. Oh, and he can use Wood Release. If you want anything made of wood, just ask him."
The moment he heard "Wood Release," Kakuzu's back twinged again.
Wood Release always brought to mind that man, and the overwhelming tide of a Tree Sea.
But... wasn't that a weird way to use it?
In Kakuzu's mind, Wood Release meant things like Wood Human Technique, Tree Sea Birth, Flower Tree World.
From Takeshi's description, this Yamato sounded more like a carpenter.
Only Haku listened intently, committing every word to memory.
"In a few days, we're going to find your new friend, whatever. Another one of our old man's illegitimate kids. This one's got the Shikotsumyaku kekkei genkai."
Kakuzu's back twinged again.
The Shimura clan's bloodline was... complicated. Ice Release, Shikotsumyaku—what next?
Kakuzu couldn't help thinking—would this intel sell well on the black market?
The money radar in his head was buzzing loudly.