The explosions stopped.
It wasn’t an abrupt halt, but rather a gradual fading, like a summer thunderstorm moving into the distance.
A final, thunderous boom echoed from the direction of the exam venue, followed by a long, unsettling silence.
No one spoke in the shelter.
Everyone pricked up their ears, waiting for the next sound, waiting for someone to tell them, “You can come out now.” But no one came.
Occasionally, a Ninja would sprint through the corridor with hurried footsteps, but no one pushed the door open to declare it safe.
Sato Fan leaned against the wall.
Sato Umeko’s complexion had improved slightly by the early hours of the morning.
Her breathing had stabilized, and her eyelids fluttered, but she did not wake up.
The bandage on Sato Michi’s head had already been changed once; the bleeding had stopped, and the wound was minor—just a superficial injury.
He leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, one hand holding Sato Umeko’s, and the other resting on Sato Fan’s arm.
Sato Fan sat there, replaying the events of the day in his mind over and over.
There shouldn’t be any flaws.
The door opened.
A man wearing a Jonin vest walked in and stood on the steps, his voice hoarse: “The attack is over.
Everyone can come out.
Those whose homes are still habitable can go back; those whose homes are not should go to the temporary settlement area.
You can collect relief rations after registering.”
The crowd began to surge outward.
Some cried, some laughed, and some were expressionless.
Sato Fan carried Sato Umeko on his back, with Sato Michi following behind, and the family of three moved out of the shelter with the flow of people.
The world outside had changed.
The Hokage Building was still standing, but there were several large holes in its walls.
The surrounding streets were a mess; broken bricks, tiles, and splintered wood were everywhere.
Black smoke rose from the residential area in the distance, and the air was filled with the smell of burning.
The sign for Ichiraku Ramen was gone, leaving only half a door hanging crookedly from the frame.
It was fortunate that no one had believed the nonsense about hiding at Ichiraku Ramen whenever something big happened in Konoha, or the rumors about “Ōtsutsuki Ichiraku” being there.
Sato Fan carried his mother on his back, stepping over the debris, and walked toward the Logistics Area.
He wanted to check the street where their home was to see if there was anywhere left to live.
Halfway there, a familiar voice called out to him from behind.
“Sato!”
Section Chief Yamada squeezed through the crowd.
His clothes were covered in dust, and there was a scratch on his face, but his spirits seemed alright.
He looked Sato Fan’s family up and down, and frowned when he saw Sato Umeko’s eyes closed.
“How is your mother?”
“She inhaled some smoke and hasn’t woken up yet.”
“Take her to the hospital.
Konoha Hospital is still accepting patients.” Yamada pointed in that direction and then grabbed Sato Fan’s arm.
“After you’re done handling things at home, come find me at the Materials Section.
Even though the warehouse is gone, we need people for the reconstruction.
You are a Ninja of the Village, so you must do your part.”
Sato Fan nodded.
There was a long line at the entrance of Konoha Hospital, filled with injured civilians and Ninjas.
Sato Fan carried his mother in the queue for nearly two hours before getting a bed.
The nurse wheeled Sato Umeko into the ward and said, “She just inhaled some smoke; it’s nothing serious.
She can be discharged after staying for two days.”
Sato Fan breathed a sigh of relief.
He settled Sato Michi into a chair in the ward and went to collect two portions of relief rations from the hospital entrance—two rice balls and a flask of water.
Sato Michi ate one and shoved the other to Sato Fan.
“You eat.”
“You haven’t eaten all day.” Sato Michi looked at him, his gaze different from usual.
It wasn’t the gentle “father caring for his son” look, but the serious expression of someone who had experienced life and death, conveying “you are the most important person to me.”
Sato Fan took the rice ball and took a bite.
The rice was a bit hard, and the seaweed was no longer crispy, but he ate slowly, chewing bit by bit.
After finishing, he stood up.
“I’m going to check on the Materials Section.
Section Chief Yamada is looking for me.”
“Go ahead,” Sato Michi said.
“I’ll watch over your mother.”
The Materials Section was temporarily set up in a room on the first floor of the Hokage Building; they hadn’t had time to change the sign yet, so it still read “Archives.” Sato Fan pushed the door open and entered.
The room was thick with smoke, and Yamada was sitting behind a desk that had been moved in temporarily, smoking.
“You’re here?” Yamada pointed to the chair opposite him.
“Sit.”
Sato Fan sat down.
Yamada extinguished his cigarette, took a piece of paper from the drawer, and pushed it in front of Sato Fan.
A few lines were written on it—several suppliers in the capital of the Land of Fire, including their addresses, contact persons, and business scopes.
“The warehouse burned down, and the ledgers are gone, but the work of the Materials Section cannot stop,” Yamada said.
“The Village needs a large amount of supplies for reconstruction—building materials, Ninja tools, medicine, and food.
There is still stock in the central warehouse, but it’s not enough.
We need to send someone to the capital to purchase more.”
Sato Fan looked at the paper, his heart skipping a beat.
The capital, leaving the Village.
“You go,” Yamada said.
“You’ve managed the warehouse for months; you know the specifications, prices, and quality of the supplies better than anyone.
I’ll provide you with the authorization, you take the purchase deposit, and make a trip to the capital.”
“Alone?”
“I’ll arrange someone for you.” Yamada rummaged through the drawer, pulled out a list, and glanced at it.
“A Chunin named Morishita Kunihiko.
He’s in his thirties, a veteran with a leg injury who can’t run the front lines, so he’s helping out in the Logistics Area now.
He’ll go with you to look out for you on the road; when you reach the capital, he’ll be responsible for safety, and you’ll be responsible for negotiating business.”
Sato Fan was silent for a second.
Having someone with him meant his movements would be restricted.
But on second thought, an old Chunin with a leg injury wouldn’t necessarily watch him every single second.
As long as he reached the capital, he could always find an excuse to act alone.
“Fine,” he said.
Yamada nodded, took a cloth bag from the drawer, and pushed it in front of Sato Fan.
The bag wasn’t large, but it was heavy, and it made the sound of coins inside.
“Here is the procurement fund.
The list of suppliers is on the paper.
Once you arrive, contact them first, inspect the goods, negotiate prices, and place orders.
You don’t need to carry the goods back; just secure the orders and have them ship the supplies to Konoha in batches.”
Sato Fan stuffed the cloth bag into his pouch, folded the supplier list, and put it into his pocket.
“I’ll talk to Morishita; you wait for him at the Village entrance tomorrow morning.”
“When are we leaving?”
“The sooner the better.
Tomorrow?”
“Fine.”
Sato Fan stood up and turned to walk toward the door.
As he reached the door, Yamada called out to him.
“Sato.”
“Yes?”
“Old Tanaka sacrificed himself fighting the enemy.
Don’t feel pressured about the warehouse being destroyed.
You are just a Logistics Genin; finding your parents and getting them into the shelter under those circumstances was the right choice.” Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Sato Fan didn’t look back; he nodded and pushed the door open to leave.
When he left the Hokage Building, it was already getting dark.
The setting sun dyed the ruins in a dark red hue.
There were far fewer people on the streets than during the day; some were clearing rubble, some were moving bodies, and some were squatting by the roadside crying.
Sato Fan did not return to the hospital.
He went to the Logistics Area, to the street where his home had been.
The fire had been extinguished, and the entire row of houses had burned down, leaving only a few crumbling walls.
He rummaged through the ruins and found a few bowls that hadn’t been burned and an iron pot.
Everything else was gone.
He squatted in front of the ruins and stared blankly for a while.
Old Tanaka was dead—he had already retired, so why did he have to come out and fight!
He stood up, brushed the dust off his hands, and turned to walk toward the hospital.
By the time he returned to the hospital, it was pitch black outside.
The lights in the corridor were on, casting a pale, weary glow on the walls.
Sato Fan pushed open the door to the ward; Sato Umeko was awake, propped up against the headboard, drinking water that Sato Michi was feeding her.
“Mom,” Sato Fan walked over and sat down by the bedside.
Sato Umeko put down the cup and reached out to touch his face.
Her hand was very cold, and her fingertips were trembling, but her eyes were gentle.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.
The warehouse burned down, but I escaped.”
“And the house is gone too?” Sato Umeko’s voice was very soft.
“It’s gone, but as long as we’re safe, that’s all that matters.
Houses can be rebuilt.”
Sato Umeko nodded without speaking.
Sato Michi sighed from the side.
Sato Fan took the cloth bag Yamada had given him from his pouch, counted out fifty thousand ryo, and placed it on the bed.
“Take this money.
Find a place to stay first and wait for me to come back.”
Sato Michi looked at the pile of money and was stunned for a moment.
“Where did this come from?”
“It’s a procurement deposit.
I told Section Chief Yamada about our family’s situation, and he let me withdraw a portion in advance to settle you in.”
Sato Michi didn’t ask any more questions.
He put the money away and nodded.
“I’m leaving the Village tomorrow to go to the capital of the Land of Fire to procure supplies.
Section Chief Yamada has arranged for a Chunin to go with me, so you don’t need to worry.”
“Be careful on the road,” Sato Umeko said.
“I’ll take care of your mother here,” Sato Michi said.
“Don’t worry.”
Sato Fan stood up, looked at his mother, and then at his father.
“I’m leaving now; I’ll be back in a few days.”
“Take care.”
“Yeah.”
Sato Fan walked out of the ward, out of the hospital, and into the night.
The street was very dark, with most of the streetlights broken; only a few shops still had faint candlelight glowing.
He walked along the street, passing through the ruins and the crumbling walls, heading in the direction of the temporary settlement area.
He wasn’t going to the settlement area.
He was going to the Empty District.
Before setting off, he needed to meet someone.