After finishing his meal at Obito's house and hearing a few of the warnings passed down by his beloved teacher Minato, Uchiha Hero took his leave.
He had grown close to Obito largely because Obito's grandmother lived next door and often visited. With time, the two became familiar.
Unlike with other characters from the Naruto story, Hero could comfortably maintain ties with Obito.
After all, it's that Obito. Those who know, know.
Even if you built the deepest of bonds, that guy could still stab you the moment he changed.
Leaving Obito's house, Hero strolled through the peaceful streets of Konoha with his wallet in hand.
Though the storm of war hadn't yet reached the civilian world, faint signs were beginning to appear.
Hero lifted the curtain and entered a ninja tool shop.
"Yo, Hero-kun, back for more Explosive Tags?" the bearded shopkeeper greeted him with a cheerful grin.
"Not today. I'm here for shuriken."
"Ah, bad timing. Shuriken and kunai prices are up twenty percent. Specialty wire's gone up thirty. But I'd still recommend stocking up. Granny Cat says prices will rise again soon."
"Then I'll take six sets of throwing tools with wire loops, two large spools of ninja wire, and one sealing scroll. That should leave me with about two hundred thousand ryo—convert the rest into Explosive Tags." Hero patted his wallet with a grin, unfazed by the cost.
D-rank missions typically paid between five thousand and ten thousand ryo—sometimes even just a few hundred, though Hero never took those. And since he worked solo, no one took a cut.
After a year of grinding missions, Hero had saved over a million ryo.
And now, it was time to spend it.
"Whoa, Hero-kun, going all out, huh?" The shopkeeper was stunned—Hero's buying power rivaled that of elite jonin.
Hero just smiled. He didn't have a family to support, only a grave to prepare.
He wasn't like those stingy ninjas saving up for retirement.
In the shinobi world, prices were all over the place. Explosive Tags were 2,000 ryo each. Shuriken were cheap—around 50 ryo apiece. Kunai varied wildly, from 200 to 30,000 ryo depending on quality. Those meant for throwing versus those meant for blocking cost completely different amounts.
A full high-quality ninja kit—ranged weapons, melee gear, armor—ran close to 200,000 ryo.
Swords and ninja blades were even more insane. Even training-grade ninja swords started at 3,000 ryo.
So why buy so much gear and so many Explosive Tags? Hero was planning to die—but not on purpose.
Intentional suicide would be flagged by the heavenly will as insurance fraud. Not only would he get nothing, he'd die for real.
But if a determined ninja poured his life savings into the best gear, used every skill he'd honed, and fell nobly in battle for the greater good—
Who could say that wasn't a glorious death?
That's practically the ninja version of a fallen emperor's unfinished legacy!
"I gave it everything I had!"
"Now hand over my insurance payout, damn it!"
Moments later, the shopkeeper emerged carrying a loud jumble of gear. The six full ninja sets had him sweating.
With a loud thump, he dropped them onto the counter, then fanned out a stack of Explosive Tags like playing cards for Hero to inspect.
"Hero-kun, are you taking on something really dangerous?"
The shopkeeper had finally realized—this was serious.
Hero looked up, brows tightening.
"Don't take this the wrong way. I know shinobi are bound by secrecy, but I've worked under Granny Cat for years. I sell ninja tools—and some intel on the side."
"If the clan's giving out dangerous assignments, it's either the Rain Country front or Hell Valley in the Land of Hot Water."
"And neither of those is something a Genin should be handling."
He didn't sugarcoat it—just laid it out bluntly.
Then, glancing at Hero with a troubled expression, he said, "Since you've been supporting the Ninja Cats' business for so long, I'll offer you something special."
He took out a piece of parchment and placed it on the counter.
"This is a one-time contract with the Ninja Cats. With it, you can summon a Ninneko, a combat ninja from the clan."
Ninneko were elite shinobi cats, often active in chaotic zones. Their headquarters was a ruined city known to few.
Unlike typical summon beasts, Ninja Cats had strong personalities and could not be enslaved by their summoners.
Their clan ran the ninja tool trade and had deep ties with the Uchiha, especially those skilled in weapon handling.
Hero knew Granny Cat, the clan matriarch, was fond of children, especially Uchiha kids.
If the shopkeeper was offering a one-time contract, it likely meant he believed Hero's chances of survival were slim.
This was a warning, disguised as a gift.
"You understand what I mean, right?" the shopkeeper said gravely, his pupils narrowing into slits.
Hero smiled and accepted the contract.
The Ninja Cats were neutral. They didn't interfere in ninja wars—unless they were paid.
The real use of the contract was access to battle tools and survival supplies on the battlefield—again, for a price.
But to Hero, who had just spent all his money, it was basically just a piece of paper.
It wouldn't stop him from legitimately dying in action.
With that thought, he turned and walked out of the shop, leaving only a simple message behind:
"Thanks, ojisan."
"But I have something I must accomplish—even if it means facing death head-on."
"This… is my ninja way."
Having delivered his cool speech, Hero stepped into the red-light district of Konoha.
He was going to die tomorrow. Even with all his determination, he couldn't deny the knot of fear in his chest.
So tonight, he'd take care of any last regrets.