Chapter 10 — Actors Take Their Places
Rain hammered the eaves. Ameyashiki Toshi waved goodbye to his family as he always did and stepped out into the world.
When the door closed, he pulled a cigarette from his pack and sighed. Right hand held the umbrella; left fumbled with a lighter. The first few clicks failed — annoying — until finally the flame caught. He inhaled deeply, a small, rare look of relief crossing his face as he glanced down at the thin wallet in his hand.
Ash flicked away in little showers. He took a long drag, conflicted, staring at the dwindling money between his fingers.
"Just one more gamble. I'll double it back. One last time — if I lose, I'll come straight home."
He told himself this repeatedly, each time convincing himself that this would be the last round. But the lure of the tables, the instant thrill of winning, tugged harder than reason. He was not stupid — he knew the house won more than it lost — but the rush was addictive, and his family's needs made the risk feel necessary.
The cigarette's ember flared and then was snuffed by a loose raindrop. Toshi barely noticed. He tossed the stub and walked away across the wet planks. A sudden splash — his shoe landed on the smoldering butt.
Renjiro had watched him, seen the way he kept checking the wallet, the guilt on his face. It wasn't hard to guess where Toshi was headed: the gambling den.
Without hesitation, Renjiro stepped through the puddles. The rain around him condensed and rearranged itself until there were two identical silhouettes moving in perfect sync. He planned to put on a show halfway to the den.
Toshi slowed his pace on purpose, trying to buy time to think before crossing the threshold into ruin. He wasn't foolish. He knew odds were against him. But if someone offered a quick, low-risk job right now, he'd take it without a second thought. No such luck — only temptation.
As Toshi hesitated, two men appeared walking toward him. Both wore Amegakure headbands and rain-ninja attire; each had a different colored mask over his lower face. Their conversation was loud enough to be heard from several steps away, as if they wanted it to be overheard.
"Hey — did you hear? One of the Legendary Sannin, Tsunade, is scared of blood." One man covered his mouth theatrically, smirking.
"You're only finding out now? I'm on intel — she's going camping by the bridge forest at 12:10 this afternoon."
"What? We could ambush her — get the bounty!" The other's eyes glittered.
"Don't be dumb. If we wait, we can plan it. A little blood won't be hard to get from that fat lady."
"Too right. Once we get that cash, I'll split it with you."
They clapped each other on the back and vanished down the street, laughing.
A big pile of money... Tsunade has hemophobia...? Toshi froze, the two phrases repeating in his head.
It might be a set-up — the men were awfully loud, too obvious. But the chance clawed at him. If Tsunade truly feared blood, there were ways to take her without the heavy fighting. And the bounty on her head in the black market would change his life: one strike and his family would be secure for a long time.
After a moment of shaky thought, Toshi made his decision. He would try. He'd be in position by 11:30.
Renjiro watched him go, rain dripping from his umbrella. The pieces were moving. Actors were taking their places. The stage was almost set.
If it turned out to be a trap, he could always run.
After all, this opportunity promised far greater rewards — and far less effort — than gambling ever could.
Not far away, Renjiro watched as Toshi abruptly changed direction, abandoning the path to the gambling den and heading toward the woods instead.
"The actor's in position," Renjiro murmured softly. "Time for the show to begin."
He followed at a measured distance, rain whispering against his umbrella.
Renjiro knew this kind of bait was painfully transparent to anyone thinking clearly. But for a man cornered by debt, despair, and addiction, temptation could easily drown out reason.
He'd even chosen the exact time — 12:10 p.m. — carefully.
Toshi would likely want to arrive early, to set up an ambush before his "target" appeared.
If the supposed meeting time were any later, say 12:30, he might have waited too long and missed the perfect window to "catch" Tsunade.
The rain nourished the young grass beneath Toshi's feet, the fresh green blades swaying with life.
Under his umbrella, he crouched, jaw tight, and drew a kunai across his arm.
A thin line of crimson bloomed instantly, blood dripping onto a square of white cloth. Within seconds, it turned scarlet, the metallic scent spreading faintly through the damp air.
Once the color was deep enough, he drove his umbrella's handle into the ground beside it, ensuring the canopy would shield the "bait" from being washed away.
Then, with a thin length of near-invisible thread, he tied one end to the umbrella's handle and held the other in his hand as he backed away, step by careful step.
When he'd put enough distance between himself and the trap, he scaled a nearby tree with practiced ease.
He froze among the wet branches, eyes sharp, breath steady — waiting.
But from a short distance away, a pair of calm eyes had already been watching his every move.
Renjiro stood beneath the same rain, silent and still.
Time passed slowly. The downpour showed no sign of stopping, and Toshi was drenched from head to toe, but he kept his eyes fixed on his watch.
"…It's almost time. Twelve o'clock," he muttered.
Then, faint voices drifted through the rain.
"Shizune, if there's a fight, I want you to run. Go back to Konoha and inform the Third."
"Lady Tsunade, no! If we leave, we leave together!"
The sound froze Toshi where he crouched. His pulse pounded in his ears.
Already here?
But it's not even twelve ten yet…!
He peered through the rain toward the sound — and sure enough, two figures emerged: Tsunade and Shizune, walking calmly along the path toward the bridge.
"Tch… I don't see him anywhere. That bastard better not be playing me for a fool!" Tsunade growled, glancing around the clearing.
"Maybe Lord Orochimaru got delayed," Shizune offered gently.
"Delayed my ass! I don't have the patience to wait for anyone!"
"Well… if it's a fake meeting, that's good too, right?" Shizune said softly, rubbing her temple as Tsunade's anger visibly spiked, the familiar '#' vein bulging across her forehead.
Tsunade exhaled sharply. Despite her outward fury, her heart eased just a little.
A part of her wanted this to be a hoax.
Because if Orochimaru really showed up… she wasn't sure she could stop him.
Not anymore. Not with her hemophobia still haunting her.
Whssst!
The shriek of a kunai cutting through the air broke the tension.
"Who's there?!"
Tsunade instantly turned toward the sound, muscles tensing, eyes sharp and alert.
Her fist clenched, ready to strike.
"Orochimaru! Stop sneaking around and come out already!"
The rain fell harder, thunder grumbling faintly in the distance.
The trap had been sprung — the first move of the play complete.