Leaving the hospital, the sky was pitch black.
Sato Fan did not go to the temporary shelter; instead, he turned into the small path behind the Logistics Area that led to the Empty District.
The road was pitch black, with most of the streetlights broken.
Only the moon hung overhead, casting a thin layer of silver light.
He didn’t walk fast, keeping an eye out behind him to see if anyone was following.
At this hour, there was almost no one on the streets.
Occasionally, patrolling Ninjas passed by in the distance, but because he was wearing the Konoha forehead protector, a Ninja of the Village, no one paid him any mind.
The entrance to the alley in the Empty District was the same as always.
The black cat stone tablet shimmered with a greenish-gray light under the moonlight; the cat’s eyes had been polished until they shone, reflecting two faint, cold glints.
Underfoot was a damp, slippery stone path, with moss growing wildly in the cracks of the bricks.
It felt soft to step on, and occasionally he would slip.
He walked along the base of the wall, trying his best not to make a sound.
After about fifty steps, that wooden door appeared before his eyes.
The two cats at the entrance were still there.
The black cat lay on the left, and the white cat crouched on the right, exactly the same as the first time he came.
The black cat heard his footsteps, opened its eyes to glance at him, but didn’t say “Who goes there,” nor did it stand up.
It just yawned and buried its head into its front paws, as if it couldn’t be bothered to pay attention.
The white cat didn’t even open its eyes; its body was curled into a ball, its tail covering its nose, its purring light and steady.
Sato Fan put away his Kunai, lifted the cloth curtain, and pushed the door open to enter.
The shop was much darker than the last time he came.
The oil lamps on the counter had gone from two to one.
The flame flickered slightly, not burning very brightly, and a small piece of charred wick had formed on top; it probably hadn’t been changed in a long time.
Granny Cat sat behind the counter, wearing a dark gray kimono.
Her hair was whiter than when he had last seen her, and the wrinkles on her face were as deep as if carved by a knife in the dim light.
She was organizing a stack of receipts, her fingers slowly sliding across the paper.
Her movements were slow, as if she were struggling with the numbers.
Hearing the footsteps, she looked up, saw Sato Fan, and didn’t speak.
The two stared at each other for two seconds, then Granny Cat put down the receipts, leaned back against the chair, and crossed her hands over her abdomen.
“You are still alive,” she said.
Her tone was as flat as usual, but Sato Fan detected a hint of something different—she was quite surprised.
“I am still alive,” Sato Fan said, sitting down in front of the counter and placing his backpack by his feet.
Granny Cat nodded, not asking for details.
She took a cloth bag from under the counter and placed it on the counter.
The bag was not big, but it was bulging, and the opening was tied very tightly.
She pushed the bag toward Sato Fan.
“Supplies sold quickly during this war, so there is no need to settle the payment in batches,” Granny Cat said, her tone as flat as usual, as if she were talking about the weather.
“The Village and the outside world have been chaotic lately, and there is a shortage of everything on the black market.
Your items sold faster than I expected.
I originally thought it would take half a year.”
Sato Fan opened the cloth bag; inside, banknotes and coins were neatly stacked.
The banknotes were the kind commonly used in the Land of Fire, printed with the portrait of the Daimyo of the Land of Fire, with various denominations.
The coins were silver-white two-mon coins, and there were also a few gold ones, shimmering with a dull light under the oil lamp.
He put the bag on the table.
He didn’t count it, but he could roughly estimate it—six million ryo, if not more.
“It’s all here,” Granny Cat said.
“Count it yourself.”
Sato Fan didn’t count.
He tied the bag up and stuffed it into his backpack.
It was heavy, weighing on his back like a small mountain.
He tightened the straps of his backpack to ensure it wouldn’t come loose on the way.
Then he sat back down, with no intention of leaving.
Granny Cat glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.
“Anything else?”
“Granny, I want to post a bounty at the Money Exchange Office.
Do you have any connections?”
Granny Cat’s fingers paused on the counter.
The oil lamp’s flame flickered, casting swaying shadows on the wall.
She stared at Sato Fan for a few seconds, her gaze sharper than before, as if she were reappraising him.
“The Money Exchange Office isn’t a place just anyone can enter,” Granny Cat’s voice lowered, no longer in that casual tone, but much more serious.
“That place requires a referral, otherwise you won’t even find the door.
Do you think it’s some kind of vegetable market?
That anyone can just push the door open and walk in?”
“That’s why I came to you.”
Granny Cat was silent for a moment.
She tidied up the receipts on the table, folded them into a stack, and held them down with a paperweight.
Then she took an envelope from the drawer and placed it on the counter.
The envelope was very old; the edges were frayed, and it was yellowed, looking like something that had been kept for a long time.
The opening was sealed with wax, and a stamp was pressed into the wax, but the pattern was blurry and unclear.
There was no writing on the envelope, no address, no name.
“There are five locations of the Money Exchange Office within the Land of Fire,” Granny Cat said, tapping the envelope lightly with her finger.
“The one closest to Konoha is in Lukjiao Town, a day’s journey to the east.
Take this envelope and give it to the person at the counter when you arrive at the Money Exchange Office, and they will let you in.”
“This is…”
“A recommendation letter,” Granny Cat said, leaning back against the chair, her hands crossed over her abdomen.
“I’ve been in this business for forty years and have dealt with the Money Exchange Office many times; I still have that much pull.”
Sato Fan reached out to take the envelope, but Granny Cat’s hand pressed down on it.
“Listen to me first,” Granny Cat’s voice was deeper than before.
“The Money Exchange Office doesn’t have many rules, but every single one is absolute.
You’ll know when you get there.
Remember a few things—don’t talk too much, don’t look around, and don’t ask about things you shouldn’t.
That place is not Konoha; no one will look after you.
Once you go in, you are just an ordinary client, no different from anyone else.”
“Understood.”
“Also, the Money Exchange Office will take a commission on the bounty you post.
About ten to twenty percent, depending on how you negotiate.
If you set the price too low, no one will be willing to take the job after the commission is deducted, and you’ll waste your money.
If you set it too high, you’ll lose out.
Weigh it yourself.”
Granny Cat released her hand and pushed the envelope over.
Sato Fan put the envelope away, placing it in his pocket close to his body, together with the sealing scroll.
Both items were made of paper, pressing against his chest, slightly cold.
“Granny, is the Money Exchange Office…
safe?”
Granny Cat glanced at him, the corners of her mouth twitching—not a smile, but more like “That’s an interesting question you asked.”
“Safe?” she repeated.
“The Money Exchange Office has been open for decades and has never had any trouble, because no one dares to cause trouble there.
You’ll know once you’ve been.”
Sato Fan didn’t ask again.
He stood up, put on his backpack, and prepared to leave.
He took two steps, then stopped.
He turned around and looked at Granny Cat.
Granny Cat had already picked up the stack of receipts again, head lowered, as if reading something.
“Granny, thank you,” Sato Fan said gratefully.
Granny Cat didn’t look up, just waved her hand as if shooing away flies.
“Go on.
It’s just business, and you are my big client.”
Sato Fan lifted the cloth curtain and walked out of the shop.
The moonlight shone into the alley, illuminating the stone path until it was pale white, the outlines of the moss clearly visible in the moonlight.
He walked out along the alley, his footsteps lighter than when he had arrived, but his heart was much lighter than before.
The two cats were still crouching at the entrance.
The black cat opened its eyes to glance at him, this time not closing them, watching him walk out of the alley entrance.
The white cat changed its posture, pulled its head out from under its tail, yawned, and curled back up.
When he walked out of the alley entrance, the night breeze blew over, carrying the chill of early autumn.
Sato Fan stood at the alley entrance and looked up at the moon.
The moon was round and bright, hanging directly overhead, illuminating the whole street as if it were day.
Patrolling Ninjas passed by in the distance, their footsteps echoing on the empty street, one light, one heavy, gradually fading away.
He tightened the straps of his backpack again, confirmed the envelope and scroll were there, took out the sealing scroll, sealed the backpack inside, and then turned and walked toward the hospital.
His parents were still waiting for him.
Tomorrow morning, he still had to set off for the Capital with Morishita Kunihiko.
When he reached the hospital entrance, he suddenly remembered something.
He stopped, stood under a streetlight, took out the envelope Granny Cat had given him from his pocket, and looked at it over and over again.
There was no writing on the envelope, but although the wax seal on the opening was blurry, one could vaguely make out the silhouette of a cat—not the black cat, but a crouching cat with its tail curled up, exactly like the stone tablet at the entrance of Granny Cat’s shop.
He put the envelope away again and pushed open the hospital door.
The lights in the hallway were on, the pale, sickly light shining on the walls, revealing a sense of exhaustion.
Sato Fan pushed open the door to the ward.
Sato Umeko was already asleep, her breathing steady, her complexion much better than during the day.
Sato Michi was sitting on the chair by the bed, head lowered, also dozing off.
On the bedside table sat the money Sato Fan had left behind, wrapped in a cloth, neatly placed in the corner of the cabinet.
Sato Fan didn’t wake them; he pulled over another chair and sat down against the wall.
He closed his eyes and ran through his plan for leaving the Village in his mind: set off with Morishita in the morning, arrive in Lukjiao Town by noon, see if he could find an excuse to slip away, go to the Money Exchange Office, post the bounty, and then return to the inn before Morishita.
Playing tricks under the nose of an experienced Chunin—it’s difficult!
I hope he has the same personality as Iruka-sensei.