Chapter 6 – The Difference Between Use and Assistance
A beautiful afternoon should have been one where warm sunlight touched every corner, where golden rays lifted the spirit.
But here in the Village Hidden by Rain, the sky was forever cloaked in gray. Fine droplets fell steadily over every street and rooftop. And yet, the cool mist wasn't unpleasant—there was a certain quiet charm to it.
That afternoon, Madam waved with a smile before heading back to her work. Meanwhile, Hanako Sakuragi, sore and limp from the morning's training, sprawled bonelessly across the sofa.
"So boring, big brother. How about we go out and play?"
Her soft, spoiled tone carried a faint sweetness. At the suggestion, Renjiro seemed to recall something and simply replied:
"Alright. Let's go."
His answer startled Hanako. In her eyes, Renjiro hadn't stepped foot outside even once these past few days.
Of course, what she didn't know was that only his water clones had gone out. Renjiro himself never acted directly.
Because in an assassination, failure meant death. To live, he used clones for every mission. A clone might be fragile, easily dispelled, but all Renjiro ever needed was a single decisive strike. If it didn't succeed—then the only outcome was death.
Rain pattered against the streets, umbrellas dotting the crowd. Renjiro held a worn, tattered umbrella over Hanako's head, angling it so most of the cover was hers. His own shoulder was damp with drizzle.
Hanako noticed. Her cheeks flushed faintly, her heart unexpectedly light as she chattered on, introducing him to the charms of the marketplace.
"Hanako! You're here! Come, try some of Auntie's fresh buns!"
The steaming trays of buns carried a fragrance that made mouths water. The shopkeeper's wife waved with a smile when she spotted Hanako.
"Wow, they look delicious… Thank you, Auntie! But… I don't have money right now."
Her eyes lingered on the buns, struggling between desire and restraint. Seeing her expression, the woman chuckled and pressed a few into her hands.
"No need for money. Hanako's such a sweet child—you can have as many as you like."
She patted Hanako's head warmly. Hanako accepted the food with both hands, bowing repeatedly in thanks.
Holding the steaming buns, her dimples deepened with joy, her smile so pure it tugged at the heart. Then, on a sudden thought, she bit one and turned, offering the rest with both hands to Renjiro.
Her mouth was full, words muffled, but her intent was clear—she wanted to share with him.
Renjiro accepted silently, his calm eyes reflecting the image of a girl whose happiness bloomed simply from giving something to the one she liked.
"Hanako, never seen you walking with a boy before. Who is he?" the shopkeeper's wife asked curiously.
"He's my favorite big brother!"
Though a bun still filled her mouth, Hanako's sparkling eyes and bright, cheerful voice left no doubt of her happiness. Her words carried across the shop, leaving the woman smiling knowingly.
After a few more bows and waves, the two drifted away from the bun shop.
All along the street, despite the rain, people bustled with cheer. Laughter and chatter filled the air. The gloom of gray skies hadn't dampened spirits—it seemed to brighten them instead.
"Hanako Sakuragi," Renjiro said suddenly.
Hearing her name from his lips for the first time, Hanako blinked, flustered.
Throughout the walk, Renjiro had overheard fragments of conversation from passersby: praises of divine grace, thanks given to an "angel." A suspicion stirred within him.
"Who's the current leader of Amegakure?"
"Our God. And the Angel-sama." Hanako's eyes lit up with stars, her tone brimming with admiration. "Without them, we wouldn't live so well today. Everything we have is thanks to God."
Renjiro's mind settled. Of course—it was Pain. More precisely, Uzumaki Nagato.
No wonder the rain never stopped. This was the Rain Tiger at Will technique. It meant he was constantly under surveillance.
Whether or not Nagato paid him specific attention didn't matter. To Renjiro, being watched at all was intolerable.
"Um… Big brother," Hanako's cheeks warmed as she whispered, "could you… just call me Hanako instead?"
Hanako Sakuragi fidgeted with the hem of her clothes, eyes lowered, her voice as soft as a buzzing fly.
"…Okay."
Renjiro paused for a moment, then answered calmly. To him, it wasn't anything difficult.
But to Hanako, being called "Hanako" was something only close, trusted people would do. Does that mean… big brother and I are really close? Her cheeks burned hot, her thoughts scattering as she tried to suppress a foolish smile.
The two of them soon arrived outside a bustling gambling den, the noise spilling out in waves.
"Big brother, why are we here? Let's go—gambling is bad!"
Hanako's face went pale. The sight of the gambling house stirred painful memories of her father. She quickly tugged at Renjiro's sleeve, trying to pull him away.
But she didn't know that Renjiro had brought her here deliberately. There was something he needed to confirm, and for that, he required her help.
If he went himself, there was a very real chance Tsunade might punch him on reflex—and he wouldn't survive it. Human behavior was unpredictable. Especially when confronted by fear, no reaction was impossible.
But if Hanako went instead, nothing would go wrong.
"Hanako," Renjiro said softly, "can you help me with something? Squeeze this tomato sauce onto your hand."
"…Then, find a woman with a very… good figure, hold out your hand to her, and ask if she wants ketchup."
Hearing Renjiro gently call her name, Hanako froze, her face struggling between hesitation and obedience. In the end, she decided—it wasn't a big deal. She'd just do it quickly and come right back.
"I'll do it!" she said, clenching her tiny fists, as though preparing for some great mission.
Renjiro only gave her a faint glance, then guided her inside.
The two burly guards at the door recognized him immediately—the so-called cousin of Binzoku Shigure. This time he even brought a little girl. Odd, but not suspicious.
Last time, Renjiro had left without placing a single bet. They figured he had only been observing, as many gamblers did before diving in. Now, seeing him return, they assumed he had come ready to wager heavily. Their grins widened as they waved him through.
Inside, the atmosphere was suffocating. Cheers, shouts, and groans collided in a haze of smoke and coin. Hanako wrinkled her nose but forced herself to scan the room, determined to complete her task quickly.
"Lady Tsunade, please stop—we're almost out of money."
A black-haired girl clutching a small piglet pleaded with desperation, her face pale as she tugged at a tall, curvaceous woman.
"Don't stop me! One more round! I refuse to believe I'll keep losing!"
Tsunade slammed a foot on the table, clutching a wad of bills as she barked at the dealer.
With such a bold display, it was impossible not to notice her. Hanako spotted her instantly—Tsunade's striking figure stood out like a beacon.
But then, a doubt crept into her chest. Would big brother like a woman with a body like hers?
She glanced down at her own small frame and sighed softly. No… big brother likes my type. He has to.
Reassured by that thought, she lifted her chin, squeezed ketchup onto her hand, and walked bravely toward Tsunade.
"Big sister… do you want some ketchup?"
Her small hand tapped Tsunade on the back. Shizune turned just in time to realize what was happening—but far too late to stop it.
Tsunade glanced back and saw the bright red smear.
"Ah!!"
Her face twisted with raw terror. As if she had seen her worst nightmare, she recoiled violently, sending the entire table crashing over with a thunderous bang.