Chapter 6: Taking Things for Granted
A night passed uneventfully on the slightly bumpy carriage.
Toneri awoke feeling surprisingly refreshed, his body seemingly recovered better than ever before.
"Was this because of the Two-Tails?" he muttered as he stretched in the cramped space of the cart, his movements smooth and practiced.
Back in his previous life as a battlefield medic, he had honed an acute awareness of his physical condition. Now, even though this body was malnourished and weak, it had surprising resilience.
After completing a short exercise routine, he sat back, his stomach grumbling loudly.
"Ugh, hungry again... Do I really have to eat another one of those disgusting rations?" His face twisted in visible disdain at the thought of the nutrient-dense but revolting soldier pills.
Just as he debated his options, a knock on the carriage door interrupted his musings.
An elderly man, dressed simply, opened the door. He carried a steaming tray of food, the aroma wafting into the enclosed space.
"Good morning, young master. Here's your breakfast," the man said kindly as he placed the tray down—a bowl of plain noodles and two boiled eggs.
"Breakfast?" Toneri raised an eyebrow, more surprised than pleased.
The old man smiled. "Yes, our master instructed us to prepare it. Considering the generous payment you provided, it's only right to extend such courtesies. I hope it's to your liking."
Toneri's eyes narrowed slightly before his expression returned to normal. He offered a polite smile in response. "Thank you. Please extend my gratitude to your master for his thoughtfulness."
The elderly man beamed, explaining further, "We'll also provide simple lunches and dinners during the journey. It's nothing extravagant, just enough to keep us fed on the road."
"No complaints here," Toneri said, nodding. "It's a blessing to have hot meals while traveling. You're too kind."
The old man chuckled warmly, his demeanor unchanging, and soon took his leave.
Left alone, Toneri's expression grew pensive.
Something wasn't right.
The more he thought about it, the stranger the situation seemed.
This level of hospitality was suspicious, especially in a war-torn world where survival often trumped politeness.
In an era like this, people rarely went out of their way for strangers. Generosity wasn't just uncommon—it could be dangerous.
Standing, he pulled back the carriage's curtain slightly, peering out at the morning sun.
The carriage was moving steadily along a well-worn road, and the sunlight streamed in from the left—exactly as expected given their westward travel.
He then examined the food, sniffing it carefully.
It smelled normal—nothing unusual.
Taking a single noodle between his fingers, he hesitated before placing it on his tongue.
Still nothing.
After swallowing a bite, Toneri waited. Minutes passed.
No symptoms, no effects.
"Maybe I'm just overthinking it," he muttered.
Yet, his instincts refused to quiet.
Something still felt... off.
He mulled over the events of the past day, piecing things together. Suddenly, the realization hit him like a cold splash of water.
"Of course," he muttered, his lips curling into a rueful smile. "I was too clever for my own good."
In hindsight, it was so obvious.
The moment he had shown the caravan leader that Cloud ninja forehead protector, he had unwittingly set the tone for their entire interaction.
They weren't simply being kind or generous—they thought he was on an official mission.
A ninja, even one as young as him, would naturally command a certain level of respect and fear. Showing off that forehead protector had ensured they would treat him well—likely to avoid any potential trouble.
But if they believed he was truly on a Cloud mission... what would happen when they reached their destination?
The implications sent a chill down his spine.
Whether this caravan hailed from the Land of Lightning or the Land of Fire, their motives were now suspect.
If they were aligned with Cloud, they might try to curry favor or report his movements.
If they were with the Leaf, things could turn much darker.
"I need to leave this caravan before we reach the Fire Nation," Toneri decided, his resolve firm.
He glanced down at the now-cold bowl of noodles, his stomach growling in protest.
"Still," he sighed, lifting the bowl to his lips, "I might as well not waste this."
Even if he had to act soon, he needed his strength. And in this world, strength started with a full stomach.
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