Chapter 48: Departure Preparations — A Shinobi's Meticulous Resolve
After leaving the Hokage Residence, Uchiha Tonan made his way straight to the Uchiha compound. He stopped by a clan-run shinobi supply shop to purchase essential ninja tools and soldier pills, stocking up thoroughly before hurrying back toward Sanbo Motoyoshi's house.
At that moment, the old man was enjoying a rare moment of peace in the garden courtyard, quietly sipping tea.
Seated comfortably in his wheelchair, Motoyoshi took a deep, deliberate breath. The air was a heady mixture of fine steeped tea and the delicate scent of fresh blossoms drifting on the breeze. There was a mellow bitterness within the sweetness of that fragrance… a quiet nostalgia.
Closing his eyes, Motoyoshi raised the cup, savoring each mouthful. "Hmph… Premium-grade tea really does strike a different chord."
Life had grown far more comfortable since Tonan started caring for him. Not only did the boy steep tea, he took on every household chore without complaint. Every few days, the garden was pruned and the plants tended. The house stayed immaculate. Tonan even brought home fine clothes, rare teas, and peculiar but healthful supplements on a near-daily basis—and most importantly, he paid for everything.
At first, Motoyoshi had resisted, thinking the boy was spending too extravagantly. But over time…
"…He's truly a good kid." Motoyoshi murmured to himself, taking another sip and letting out a wistful sigh. "If he turns out to have wind-nature chakra… then perhaps…"
He chuckled lightly at the thought. But just then, Tonan strode in from the courtyard entrance, interrupting the old man's musings.
Motoyoshi blinked and smiled. "Back already, Tonan? No mission today?"
Tonan returned the smile, gently took the teapot, and topped off the elder's cup. "Actually, we received a mission—a long-term escort job outside the village. I hurried back to make preparations."
Without another word, Tonan headed inside and began packing. Motoyoshi set his teacup down on the stone table and wheeled himself toward the doorway.
"An escort mission, huh? That's not bad for a first C-rank. Make sure you do it properly."
Tonan's voice floated from inside the room as he sorted supplies: "It's not a C-rank, it's a B-rank."
Motoyoshi's eyes widened. Shocked, and more than a little offended, he shouted, "B-rank!? You've just been promoted to genin! What's that old monkey Sarutobi thinking, sending you on something so risky?! Let's go—I'll drag my crippled legs to the Hokage Tower myself if I have to! That geezer wants you killed?!"
But Tonan only chuckled faintly, still methodically going about his business. "It's not actually that dangerous. Originally, it was a C-rank mission. But the client paid well—enough that the commission value bumped it to B-rank territory. It's a formality."
Motoyoshi settled down a bit, his brows relaxing. "Ah… so that's how it is. Still, what a spendthrift client. You're lucky."
Tonan moved back and forth through the house like a quiet storm, making sure nothing was missed. "I wouldn't call it lucky exactly. They're paying to buy peace of mind—makes sense."
Motoyoshi stroked his beard in thought. "That's true. You and Kakashi—both prodigies. Not your average genin team. And with that yellow-haired brat leading you… what was his name again? Namikaze? The one with the speed jutsu? That client definitely got their money's worth. Still, you're packing like you're going on a year-long war campaign. What's all this?"
Tonan wiped his brow and continued working without missing a beat. "I'm just being thorough. Better to overprepare than regret it later. Oh, I adjusted the microwave for you—it's sitting low enough now for easy access, and I moved your daily necessities to the lower shelves so you won't strain yourself."
With that, he stepped into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, revealing rows upon rows of ingredients tightly packed on the shelves. He frowned and muttered, "These won't keep."
Without hesitation, Tonan tied an apron around his waist and began unloading everything onto the counter.
Tak tak tak—!
The rhythmic sound of his blade echoed as he began chopping.
Motoyoshi wheeled himself into the living room and shook his head at the sight. "You don't have to go through all this trouble for me. I've lived alone for years. I know how to survive."
But Tonan didn't agree. He squatted down and pulled out a pouch of old, stale tea leaves from a cabinet. "That's exactly the problem. You're too frugal. It's a bad habit. This tea you're drinking? It's not fit for compost. I've already replaced it with fresh leaves. These, I'll use as fertilizer."
As he walked out to the garden, Motoyoshi called out in alarm, "Wait—! Don't just toss those, I paid for that tea!"
Tonan ignored him and casually scattered the leaves into the flowerbeds. Motoyoshi clutched his chest, watching his precious leaves meet their end in the soil.
Then Tonan suddenly slapped his forehead, as if remembering something. He pulled a folded bill from his wallet and tucked it into the inside pocket of Motoyoshi's coat, hanging by the door.
"I'm leaving ten thousand Ryo in your coat. Use it for anything you need—medicine, groceries, favors. And don't try to squirrel it away."
Motoyoshi frowned. His eyes narrowed as he asked, "You only ever do D-rank missions. And you spend so much on me. Where does all this money come from?"
Tonan's reply came flat and soft: "The death benefits the village awarded after my parents were killed in action."
Motoyoshi inhaled sharply. He moved his wheelchair to the coat rack and pulled the bill from the pocket. The weight of it seemed different now. Heavy.
"…I can't take this. Not money like this," he muttered, his voice shaking.
But Tonan blocked his hand. He shook his head and replied firmly, "If we complete this mission, I'll earn forty thousand Ryo. I'll make it back with ease."
Motoyoshi looked shaken. Though greedy and miserly by nature, he wasn't heartless—he couldn't accept a child's hard-earned money soaked in grief.
"I'm just an old cripple who doesn't even leave the house… What would I need so much money for?"
Tonan crouched before him and gently took Motoyoshi's hands in his own.
"If something happens while I'm away… and you need medical care… hospitals cost money. And you'll need help from the neighbors. If there's an emergency, don't hesitate—use this. Give them something as thanks. Promise me you won't be stingy. Otherwise, I can't leave in peace."
He patted Motoyoshi's hand and stood up, resuming his packing without another word.
"I…" Motoyoshi stared down at the banknote in his wrinkled hands.
For the first time in many years, the old miser felt the weight of something more than coin. He was choked up. Silently, tears welled in his eyes.