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Naruto: IHCS Ch. 124
🕑 Added 2025-09-18 16:09:20 +0000 UTCBox after box of food was carried out from the back kitchen and loaded onto carts. It was as if they had emptied the whole kitchen of the Okura Inn.
"All right, everything's loaded up," said the refugee at the front, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he spoke to Shiratori.
His name was Masato Miyamoto. Before the wars broke out in the Land of Grass, he had been a chef. When war consumed his homeland, he fled with his family to the nearest place, the Land of Rain. But there too, fighting raged. They had no choice but to stay in the relatively safe settlement of Aomine.
Because of his skills as a chef, he was chosen by Sato to work in the kitchen of Okura Inn. But Miyamoto soon discovered that Sato never intended to pay him. Instead, his day's labor was exchanged for only three steamed buns.
Sato treated the refugees with nothing but blows and curses. Fearing they might slack off, he even sent his ninjas to watch over them every day.
Miyamoto had long since reached the point where life here was unbearable. But he had no power to resist, no means to oppose Sato.
Now, with the arrival of Shiratori and his companions, Miyamoto saw a new ray of hope.
Shiratori glanced at the three carts packed with food and nodded in satisfaction.
Miyamoto let out a sigh. "There was actually more left yesterday, but Sato threw it all away. That bastard would rather waste food than help us refugees."
Hearing this, Yahiko clenched his fists in anger.
For Shiratori, though, such cruelty was no surprise.
"Let's go," he said. "We'll push these carts into the streets. We'll let more refugees join our ranks of resistance."
He turned to Miyamoto as he spoke.
Looking into Shiratori's honest and resolute eyes, Miyamoto suddenly felt his throat tighten and his vision blur. He quickly lowered his head.
"Alright!" he said.
And so, the large group set off toward the busiest streets of Aomine.
Along the way, they encountered many refugees.
The refugees still remembered Shiratori, Yahiko, Nagato, and Konan. Yesterday these youths had handed out food to them.
In all their months, nearly a year, of struggling to survive in Aomine, no one had ever shown them kindness.
When hunger grew unbearable, they could only scavenge from trash bins.
Leaving was impossible. First, because war raged across the Land of Rain. Second, because the merchants of Aomine forbade the refugees from departing.
When they saw the ninjas and samurai trailing behind the group, the refugees shrank back in terror, pressing their frail bodies against the walls as if trying to melt into them.
But soon, they realized something was different.
Behind those ninjas and samurai walked more people, faces gaunt like their own, clothes clean yet tattered, washed so many times they were threadbare. And those faces bore smiles.
Among the refugees, someone recognized Miyamoto.
"Miyamoto… why are you here?"
A hoarse voice called out to him.
Eyes turned toward the carts of food. Sunken faces lit with hunger, throats swallowed hard.
Miyamoto answered with a bright smile, his voice was loud enough to echo through the whole street, "In a little while, we'll be giving out free food at the central plaza! If you want to eat, come with us!"
The refugees might have distrusted the ninjas and samurai, but hearing his words made all the difference.
Miyamoto was one of them, he too came from the Land of Grass, he too was a refugee. He would never betray his own people.
The refugees looked at one another. Driven by hunger, they began to follow.
More and more refugees gathered behind them.
By the time the group reached the central plaza, nearly every refugee in Aomine had heard the news. Dragging their weary bodies, they came together at the square.
Soon, the plaza before them was packed full.
Eyes sunken yet shining with hope gazed at Shiratori and his companions.
The raw anticipation etched into their faces was heartbreaking.
Meanwhile, Muramasa, Kojiro, and Genraku stationed their men around the plaza to guard against riots, chaos, or a sudden enemy attack.
At the center, atop the raised platform, stood Shiratori.
Beside him were Yahiko and Nagato, while Konan worked with Miyamoto and the others to distribute food.
Konan cherished this task, she wanted to help those suffering in misery.
"Don't worry, everyone!" she called out gently. "There's enough for all of you! Everyone will eat their fill! From now on, you'll have food every day! No pushing, no fighting…"
With ninjas and samurai keeping order, the refugees did not break the rules.
The food that Miyamoto and his men had brought was quickly handed out.
Every refugee held food in their hands, treasures more precious than gold. Even Miyamoto and the other kitchen workers, who had never eaten their fill, received their fair share.
Shiratori made sure of it.
Standing atop the platform, he waited patiently as the refugees ate. For the first time in ages, they were full. Their minds could think of nothing else but food. No matter what he said now, they wouldn't hear it.
Hands clutched swollen bellies.
So full!
It had been so long since they'd eaten like this.
Tears fell, dripping onto buns and dumplings. Even after eating their fill, food remained in their hands.
Lifting their heads, the refugees gazed at him, tears washing streaks through the dirt on their faces.
In that silence, his voice rang out: "Are you full?"
The refugees nodded. A hoarse shout broke the quiet: "Yes!"
He nodded back. "And do you want to be full every day from now on?"
The refugees froze.
What did that mean?
Could it be…?
Breaths grew rapid. Who wouldn't want food in their stomachs and warmth on their bodies?
"Yes!"
The cry rose from the crowd.
Hearing it, Shiratori nodded.
"This meal you just ate may silence your hunger for now. But what about tomorrow? The day after? Where will our next meal come from? Where will we find shelter from the storms in the countless nights ahead?"
The refugees stared at him in bewilderment.
What else could they do?
All they could do was pray for the war in the Land of Grass to end, so that one day they might return home.
But… could they really survive until then?
"You have nowhere to live, no food to eat, and all of this springs from those heartless merchants and monopolistic traders in Aomine who ride roughshod over you!"
"They suck your savings dry in no time with extortionate prices, squeezing away the last of your survival money."
"Then they drive you out of houses that can shelter you from wind and rain, attempting to bind your feet with invisible chains, to cut off your hope with sky-high food prices. They want you to kneel forever, to remain silent forever, to be their slaves for as long as they please!"
He looked over the refugees gathered below the platform.
"Is that fair?"
"Is it reasonable?"
"Can you keep putting up with this?"
"Look around you, how many people get up before dawn and work until late, yet have nothing to fill their bellies? How many honest workers labor and end up with nothing?"
"We must change! We have to change!"
"These merchants will not grow a conscience! The only way to change things is for us ourselves to stand up, unite, clench our fists, and fight for everything we deserve!"
"Today, here in Aomine, we will make it so that laborers have homes and workers have food!"
"We will smash their monopoly granaries and take back the right to eat!"
"We will ensure that the fruits of labor are shared by all workers!"
"Those who work more shall receive more, those who do not work shall not eat!"
"This is simply justice!"
"What we must destroy is that inhuman, blood-sucking old order, what we must build is a new Aomine where everyone is equal, where distribution is based on labor, with no exploitation and no oppression!"
"One person's strength is weak, but when thousands upon thousands of suffering people unite, we become a flood of steel, unstoppable!"
"Friends! Do not be afraid! Great causes always endure hardship."
"Behind us is justice, is truth. Our goal is that every one of us may live with dignity!"
"Stand up! Cast off fear and hesitation!"
"Join us, for our common future!"
"Whoever is willing to follow me to break this iron house and fight for our bright future, raise your hands and make your roar!"
"Let us stand together, fight together, and win together!"
"Together we will create a new Aomine!"
Shiratori's voice echoed over the entire settlement. The refugees stared at him, mouths open.
[Awe detected]
[Yahiko: +3000 points]
[Nagato: +3000 points]
[Konan: +3000 points]
[...]
The refugees looked at the young people on the stage and then at their own hands.
When the war in the Land of Grass broke out, each fleeing family had brought along all the savings of three generations.
But when they arrived at Aomine, in only five days, those savings had been plundered clean by the merchants through sky-high charges for lodging and food.
The merchants swept them out of their homes and forced them to sleep on the streets, turning them into beggars.
From then on, they had to endure hunger and cold.
They watched helplessly as their wives, children, husbands, parents, brothers, and sisters died one by one, from cold, from hunger.
If they wanted to survive, they would have to, like Miyamoto and others, sell their bodies and become the merchants' slaves.
But even the chance to become a slave was extremely slim.
These merchants wanted to drive them to the brink, to erase their humanity and dignity, so they would be compliant, unrebellious, and without self… What, then, would you call such people?
Their humanity would be erased, they would be less than beasts.
The refugees knew that if things continued like this, their future held only two paths.
One was the road to death.
The other was a life worse than death. But no one wanted that life.
If the end is going to be death anyway, why simply wait for it?
If they're to die, then they'll drag those people down with them!
Besides, is there someone now who comes to help them?
Someone has taken their side!
The refugees looked at the ninjas nearby and at Shiratori on the platform.
"Don't worry!"
"We will protect you!"
"Because we are comrades with the same ideals!"
Yahiko seemed to see the refugees' hesitation, he stepped forward and spoke firmly.
Someone in the crowd raised a hand.
Then another, and another, and another, and another…
Countless hands.
At last, everyone.
They all silently looked at Shiratori, determination flashing in their eyes.
If the road ahead is nearly at its end, then let them burn themselves!
---
Far away, shop doors were tightly shut.
In his room, Tomita paced back and forth, his neck and face flushed, veins standing out.
"Bastards! How could they resist?"
The ninja leaning against the wall acted as if he had heard nothing.
"That traitor! He actually went to help those filthy commoners!"
The ninja lifted his eyelid and glanced at him.
Tomita suddenly looked up and glared at the ninja. "Quick, rendezvous with the other ninjas by your boss. All of you go in together! Kill them all for me! Kill them!"
He stopped the ninja again, a murderous light flashing in his eyes. "Kill them all! Don't spare them, I want to torture them slowly!"
He clenched his fists, and stared at the ninja. "We provided you with good food and drink, isn't it time for you to work now?"
