Running a business was hard work, Asami surmised. She wasn’t the one doing the job, but she had seen enough to know that it was never easy. Her mother’s bakery often ended up with leftovers at the end of the day, and such a reputable establishment cold never sell day-old goods! Under normal circumstances, it would all be thrown out, but the girl had suggested a better idea. Her plan led her across the village, from the hustle and bustle of Susukino to a slum by any other name. The sun had begun to set, but the alleyways still held life; groups of children making the best of their time, and adults with no shelter to spend the night in. Then there was her – a teenage girl dressed in a hoodie and loose jeans. Far from her usual attire, but she knew her preferred outfits were a bit too prestigious for blending in. In other words, she would make herself a target for the morally corrupt hiding in the shadows, and she had no intentions of getting mugged.
She approached a middle-aged man sitting beside a building, armed against the cold with an oversized blanket. Without a word, she reached into her hoodie’s pocket and withdrew a rolled-up sheet of paper, marked with a simple seal. A small burst of chakra summoned its contents – a small bag of buns and pastries. They were half a day old at worst, but could probably last a day if kept safe. She waited for him to accept her gift, received many thanks in return, and set off to find her next target.
The food would go to waste otherwise, she reasoned. Sure, the trip to Cronopolis was long and tedious, but dashing through the streets counted as her day’s training, didn’t it? Of course, she couldn’t entirely justify it as ‘practice’ when she had no intention of graduating, so more importantly, she was doing her bit to help the less fortunate. It never took long for rumour to spread of free food in the area, but she only had so much to give. If somebody needed a full stomach, they would have to move fast!
She approached a middle-aged man sitting beside a building, armed against the cold with an oversized blanket. Without a word, she reached into her hoodie’s pocket and withdrew a rolled-up sheet of paper, marked with a simple seal. A small burst of chakra summoned its contents – a small bag of buns and pastries. They were half a day old at worst, but could probably last a day if kept safe. She waited for him to accept her gift, received many thanks in return, and set off to find her next target.
The food would go to waste otherwise, she reasoned. Sure, the trip to Cronopolis was long and tedious, but dashing through the streets counted as her day’s training, didn’t it? Of course, she couldn’t entirely justify it as ‘practice’ when she had no intention of graduating, so more importantly, she was doing her bit to help the less fortunate. It never took long for rumour to spread of free food in the area, but she only had so much to give. If somebody needed a full stomach, they would have to move fast!