He thought he had read something wrong when he received the notice, but he had not. Drugs. They were selling drugs, in a bookstore. Or at least, that's what the 'rumors' said. Shinbatsu thought about it, and he decided that Miyamoto would not be the kind of guy to allow that kind of stuff to happen in his store. The Grand Script was a much bigger bookstore than his own; as a matter of fact, he sometimes brought in his supplies from there. Miyamoto ran the place on a tight schedule: nine to eight every day, and he was there for the whole day. He hired only part-time workers so he would not have to give them breaks and he never left before all his workers had gone home. His eyes followed them throughout their shifts so adamantly sometimes Shinbatsu wondered if he even needed their help. Drugs, in his place?
Well, maybe. His superior monitoring capacity would see to it that things remained under the radar. Nonetheless, it was Shinbatsu's job to figure out whether the store was really trafficking drugs, and he had to take his Wednesday bookstore hours off to do it. That was usually the time he took off to go to the store and buy his supplies, so he knew it would be least suspicious if he did it then. The whole matter was complicated by the fact that Miyamoto knew him, but Shinbatsu knew that he had to do this. By the end of the day, he would have the man cleared and they would both be able to go home. That was the thought that was repeatedly running through his mind.
"I'd like to speak to the owner please." "For what purpose?" "My name's Aiyo Shinbatsu from the Arkane. I do business with him." "I'm sorry, the owner is not in today." He had made it through the caverns of Sand and into the store, and now he was talking to one of the workers who was arranging books on a shelf. The worker was clearly lying; Miyamoto, keeping true to his character, had already spotted Shinbatsu and made his way over, and the Chuunin was made aware of his presence by a hand being placed lightly on his shoulder. "Shinbatsu! A pleasure, a pleasure. To what do I owe it?" Shinbatsu turned around, bowing lightly as he did so. Only now did he realize that he had not yet come up with an excuse, but the patron of his store from yesterday came to mind. "Moral Inquires of the Greater Galaxy. I told you I would not need any copies. I was wrong. A higher up with purple hair--" Shinbatsu made a waving nonsense motion through his hair to indicate that the patron's hair was ruffled, "--showed up yesterday asking for it. I figure I can possibly milk him for a hundred or five Yen, so I'll take five copies of the book if you've still got them in stock." At this, Miyamoto frowned. Shinbatsu could read clear into his mind. Only five books? Is this guy kidding me? Why do I even give him a discount? Guilty, yes, yes he felt guilty right now. He knew Miyamoto was not happy with the meeting and suddenly he wished he could have come up with a better excuse to be here. "Moral Inquiries. That's all. Alright, Shinbatsu, this way..."
If only the shopkeeper could know what Shinbatsu was getting him out of by being here, this wouldn't be so bad. He thought Shinbatsu was just being a loser and a poor businessman, but in reality if he were not here asking for these books it'd probably be some blood-thirsty ANBU tearing shelves down and blasting through walls. This was for the best, even if he made a fool of himself. From the looks of it Miyamoto was still taking him to the stock room, and that was all he needed.
The inside of the stock room was notably more damp and humid than the rest of the store. There was a single-person sofa near a wall, several lamp-stands, a few overhead lights, and hundreds of stacks of books. That was all. This was the only other room in the store and it was pretty obvious that there was nothing here besides books. Shinbatsu couldn't help but think to himself that the place even smelled like a mix of fresh and rotten paper, and not a single other scent made it through. They walked through the place to the very back of the room. "You know, I was thinking, and the only higher up I can think of that's got purple hair is the Steward Kazekage, Sousuke. I think you had yourself a leader in your store." Shinbatsu flinched a bit at this, his mind snapping away from the task at hand. The Kazekage was the man who had been frequenting the Arkane? "I didn't expect that. Are you sure?" "Sure as I can be without seeing the man. I'm surprised he's interested in such a daft read." Shinbatsu hesitated, then his mind snapped back to the duty at hand. He'd gotten lucky. That was the only reason he'd gotten into the stock room while asking for only five books. Miyamoto knew Shinbatsu was dealing with the Steward.
At the very back of the stock room, the shopkeeper picked up what Shinbatsu was looking for and handed them to him. He looked agitated again. "There you go now. If you don't need anything else, you can just pay me for those and get back to your store, I know you're usually there at these hours." Shinbatsu took the books and sighed. He couldn't keep it in. This was too embarrassing. "Listen-- Miyamoto. The ANBU were onto you. They said you were trafficking drugs through here or something." The shopkeeper's eyes flashed, but Shinbatsu shook his head and went on. "Don't worry about it. The truth is that this could have waited, but I didn't want anyone messing up your store for no reason, so I volunteered for the job. I do need to be certain though if I want to keep them off your back. Do you mind if I have a look around?" There were a tense few moments. Miyamoto still looked alarmed, and his eyes were wide, but eventually he relaxed and sighed himself. A chuckle escaped his lips and then he gestured openly toward his surroundings. "Go ahead my friend, I've got nothing to hide!" "Excellent. I swear, this will only take a minute, then I'll pay you for the books and be on my way. This is the best possible outcome, remember that."
With that, Shinbatsu made his rounds. He picked up random books from random stacks and shuffled through their pages. He lifted some full stacks to check under them. He pulled the cushions off the sofa to check under them. He even checked every light post and ran his hand over the rims of the overhead lights to make sure there was nothing he could have missed, and it was apparent that there was not a single place left where Miyamoto could have hidden anything. Shinbatsu shook his head and laughed again, making his way over to the shopkeeper and paying him for the books he ordered before picking them up again. He shook the man's hand. "Thank you again for cooperating my friend." "Yes, yes, as you said, best possible outcome! Come, let us be on our way now, I do not want to waste any more of your time..."
They were walking out of the stock room, and they were both going to go home. As they left the room, the lighter air of the main room was a breath of fresh air. The shopkeeper was walking him out. The exit was near. "Now that I think of it, Miyamoto, aren't you concerned the humidity in there is going to ruin your books? I mean I have some dehumidifiers installed in my shop. They're not that expensive." "Oh? Oh, yes, I have a few too, they just can't keep up."
Shinbatsu stopped in his tracks. He stared at Miyamoto, and Miyamoto gave him a confused look back. The look on the Chuunin's face grew increasingly stern, and a look of concern overtook Miyamoto's. "They can't keep up." Miyamoto blinked. Suddenly, he looked like a guilty man. "Can't keep up with what, Mr. Miyamoto?" "Listen, I can explain." Shinbatsu looked at him for another second, and when no explanation seemed readily available, Shinbatsu spoke again. "I know how you run this place. Your workers don't have breaks. Customers aren't allowed in the stock room. As a matter of fact, I've never seen you even send any of your workers in there. Who sits on that sofa?" Miyamoto's jaw dropped a little, and the Chuunin waited no longer: he turned around and began walking as fast as he could back to the store room. The shopkeeper was following him trying talk him out of what he was going to do, but it was already too late; Shinbatsu was swift and punctual, and when he kicked the sofa over, the trapdoor took him only a second to break open.
Later that day, Shinbatsu stopped to reflect on the happenings at The Grand Script. Miyamoto did not try to put up much of a fight; he knew he was no match for Shinbatsu. The ANBU were called in, the vats were cleared out, and the whole store was shut down while the operation was dismantled. Would the store ever open again? The Chuunin doubted it. He had to wonder, though, what exactly it was that they were trying to distil using steam; he could not think of a single organic product that would produce a high that you could just steam out of a thing of nature. Best possible outcome? Probably not. He resented the fact that Miyamoto had to be put away. He resented the fact that he had to find a new place to stock from now. The whole thing was so very depressing, but he did not have time to linger on the thought: Wednesday pub hours were coming on soon, and he needed to get a few hours of rest before then.
Well, maybe. His superior monitoring capacity would see to it that things remained under the radar. Nonetheless, it was Shinbatsu's job to figure out whether the store was really trafficking drugs, and he had to take his Wednesday bookstore hours off to do it. That was usually the time he took off to go to the store and buy his supplies, so he knew it would be least suspicious if he did it then. The whole matter was complicated by the fact that Miyamoto knew him, but Shinbatsu knew that he had to do this. By the end of the day, he would have the man cleared and they would both be able to go home. That was the thought that was repeatedly running through his mind.
"I'd like to speak to the owner please." "For what purpose?" "My name's Aiyo Shinbatsu from the Arkane. I do business with him." "I'm sorry, the owner is not in today." He had made it through the caverns of Sand and into the store, and now he was talking to one of the workers who was arranging books on a shelf. The worker was clearly lying; Miyamoto, keeping true to his character, had already spotted Shinbatsu and made his way over, and the Chuunin was made aware of his presence by a hand being placed lightly on his shoulder. "Shinbatsu! A pleasure, a pleasure. To what do I owe it?" Shinbatsu turned around, bowing lightly as he did so. Only now did he realize that he had not yet come up with an excuse, but the patron of his store from yesterday came to mind. "Moral Inquires of the Greater Galaxy. I told you I would not need any copies. I was wrong. A higher up with purple hair--" Shinbatsu made a waving nonsense motion through his hair to indicate that the patron's hair was ruffled, "--showed up yesterday asking for it. I figure I can possibly milk him for a hundred or five Yen, so I'll take five copies of the book if you've still got them in stock." At this, Miyamoto frowned. Shinbatsu could read clear into his mind. Only five books? Is this guy kidding me? Why do I even give him a discount? Guilty, yes, yes he felt guilty right now. He knew Miyamoto was not happy with the meeting and suddenly he wished he could have come up with a better excuse to be here. "Moral Inquiries. That's all. Alright, Shinbatsu, this way..."
If only the shopkeeper could know what Shinbatsu was getting him out of by being here, this wouldn't be so bad. He thought Shinbatsu was just being a loser and a poor businessman, but in reality if he were not here asking for these books it'd probably be some blood-thirsty ANBU tearing shelves down and blasting through walls. This was for the best, even if he made a fool of himself. From the looks of it Miyamoto was still taking him to the stock room, and that was all he needed.
The inside of the stock room was notably more damp and humid than the rest of the store. There was a single-person sofa near a wall, several lamp-stands, a few overhead lights, and hundreds of stacks of books. That was all. This was the only other room in the store and it was pretty obvious that there was nothing here besides books. Shinbatsu couldn't help but think to himself that the place even smelled like a mix of fresh and rotten paper, and not a single other scent made it through. They walked through the place to the very back of the room. "You know, I was thinking, and the only higher up I can think of that's got purple hair is the Steward Kazekage, Sousuke. I think you had yourself a leader in your store." Shinbatsu flinched a bit at this, his mind snapping away from the task at hand. The Kazekage was the man who had been frequenting the Arkane? "I didn't expect that. Are you sure?" "Sure as I can be without seeing the man. I'm surprised he's interested in such a daft read." Shinbatsu hesitated, then his mind snapped back to the duty at hand. He'd gotten lucky. That was the only reason he'd gotten into the stock room while asking for only five books. Miyamoto knew Shinbatsu was dealing with the Steward.
At the very back of the stock room, the shopkeeper picked up what Shinbatsu was looking for and handed them to him. He looked agitated again. "There you go now. If you don't need anything else, you can just pay me for those and get back to your store, I know you're usually there at these hours." Shinbatsu took the books and sighed. He couldn't keep it in. This was too embarrassing. "Listen-- Miyamoto. The ANBU were onto you. They said you were trafficking drugs through here or something." The shopkeeper's eyes flashed, but Shinbatsu shook his head and went on. "Don't worry about it. The truth is that this could have waited, but I didn't want anyone messing up your store for no reason, so I volunteered for the job. I do need to be certain though if I want to keep them off your back. Do you mind if I have a look around?" There were a tense few moments. Miyamoto still looked alarmed, and his eyes were wide, but eventually he relaxed and sighed himself. A chuckle escaped his lips and then he gestured openly toward his surroundings. "Go ahead my friend, I've got nothing to hide!" "Excellent. I swear, this will only take a minute, then I'll pay you for the books and be on my way. This is the best possible outcome, remember that."
With that, Shinbatsu made his rounds. He picked up random books from random stacks and shuffled through their pages. He lifted some full stacks to check under them. He pulled the cushions off the sofa to check under them. He even checked every light post and ran his hand over the rims of the overhead lights to make sure there was nothing he could have missed, and it was apparent that there was not a single place left where Miyamoto could have hidden anything. Shinbatsu shook his head and laughed again, making his way over to the shopkeeper and paying him for the books he ordered before picking them up again. He shook the man's hand. "Thank you again for cooperating my friend." "Yes, yes, as you said, best possible outcome! Come, let us be on our way now, I do not want to waste any more of your time..."
They were walking out of the stock room, and they were both going to go home. As they left the room, the lighter air of the main room was a breath of fresh air. The shopkeeper was walking him out. The exit was near. "Now that I think of it, Miyamoto, aren't you concerned the humidity in there is going to ruin your books? I mean I have some dehumidifiers installed in my shop. They're not that expensive." "Oh? Oh, yes, I have a few too, they just can't keep up."
Shinbatsu stopped in his tracks. He stared at Miyamoto, and Miyamoto gave him a confused look back. The look on the Chuunin's face grew increasingly stern, and a look of concern overtook Miyamoto's. "They can't keep up." Miyamoto blinked. Suddenly, he looked like a guilty man. "Can't keep up with what, Mr. Miyamoto?" "Listen, I can explain." Shinbatsu looked at him for another second, and when no explanation seemed readily available, Shinbatsu spoke again. "I know how you run this place. Your workers don't have breaks. Customers aren't allowed in the stock room. As a matter of fact, I've never seen you even send any of your workers in there. Who sits on that sofa?" Miyamoto's jaw dropped a little, and the Chuunin waited no longer: he turned around and began walking as fast as he could back to the store room. The shopkeeper was following him trying talk him out of what he was going to do, but it was already too late; Shinbatsu was swift and punctual, and when he kicked the sofa over, the trapdoor took him only a second to break open.
Later that day, Shinbatsu stopped to reflect on the happenings at The Grand Script. Miyamoto did not try to put up much of a fight; he knew he was no match for Shinbatsu. The ANBU were called in, the vats were cleared out, and the whole store was shut down while the operation was dismantled. Would the store ever open again? The Chuunin doubted it. He had to wonder, though, what exactly it was that they were trying to distil using steam; he could not think of a single organic product that would produce a high that you could just steam out of a thing of nature. Best possible outcome? Probably not. He resented the fact that Miyamoto had to be put away. He resented the fact that he had to find a new place to stock from now. The whole thing was so very depressing, but he did not have time to linger on the thought: Wednesday pub hours were coming on soon, and he needed to get a few hours of rest before then.