CH_3.25 (084)

CH_3.25 (084)

Takuma couldn't move his eyes away from the zip-lock bag filled with a dried-up herb that looked strikingly identical to what he had seen before. And from what he knew, it was very much illegal in the Hidden Leaf. He was coming to realize what job Enomoto was planning to offer him.

"How kid is the kid again?" Ryuu asked Enomoto.

"Young," replied Enomoto.

"Wouldn't he then not know what the product is? That would be a problem."

"That... is a possibility," Enomoto said, turning to Takuma. "Do you know what this is, Tobi?"

"...Yes, I know," Takuma said - and simultaneously, he didn't know what they called it here.

Ryuu didn't hide his skepticism and distrust as he leaned forward. He took a fat joint from his person and placed it on the table before Takuma. "Then you wouldn't mind sharing one with me, would you?" he said with an open flame burning from a zippo lighter.

Takuma didn't like that look on Ryuu's face and picked up the joint. He lit it up, lifted the mask halfway, and took a hit before passing it back to Ryuu. The old man took a hit as he kept an eye on Takuma. The joint went to Enomoto, who then passed it to Takuma, who took another hit. When the joint came back around, Takuma refused it.

"That's enough for now," said Takuma. He didn't know how this body would react to the weed. Back when he was in college, it had taken him three "sessions" before he had gotten his first high, and right now, in the company of two people he didn't trust much, Takuma didn't want a bad trip. Two hits were enough.

"Well, look at that," Ryuu grinned, "the kid does know some stuff."

Enomoto stared at Takuma in bafflement. "Kids these days are crazy," he said. "As a medical professional, I recommend using chakra to protect your lungs while smoking. It's a practice that every shinobi should follow."

Takuma had to agree with him. A twelve-year-old smoking without coughing his lungs out could be a jarring sight.

Ryuu scoffed as he took another deep hit. "So, you're a Ring fighter, eh?" he said, exhaling a large puff of smoke.

Takuma narrowed his eyes behind his mask and turned to glare at Enomoto. There was a reason why he had only agreed to come here with a mask and had given a fake name. He didn't want to give out who he was, and if Ryuu already knew that he was a Ring fighter, then he didn't know if he could work with Enomoto.

"I don't know what he's talking about," said Enomoto, raising his hands.

Ryuu lifted his chin and scratched underneath. "A ski mask beneath the hard mask - that's a Ring thing if I have seen one, kid," he said with a laugh. "And if you want to hide the fact still, don't glare at him," he pointed at Enomoto - "it only confirms that I was right."

Takuma bit the inside of his cheek and felt the cloth mask on his skin, which he had gotten so used to wearing for the last several months that he didn't even notice he was wearing one. He hadn't considered that a habit would give him away, but that was what usually gave people away—fucking habits! Takuma took a silent breath to calm himself down. He knew he couldn't do anything to dissuade Ryuu, so he stayed silent. He just didn't want to give away anything else about himself.

Ryuu grinned, "Happy doing business with you."

———

.

Takuma's life had never been busier. A combination of Ring fights, missions, training, and selling weed had cut down his sleeping hours to five hours in total. If only he had a way to get some of that bullshit' passive income.'

He had to confess: on the first day, he wasn't sure what to do with the stash of weed he had in his house because he had no customers. The first thing he had done was to decide where to keep his stash; while the quantity was low, he kept it hidden in his home but decided to find a better place away from his place in case the business grew.

On the other hand, as it turned out, selling was easy when there was substantial demand, a lack of intense competition, and a market where customers didn't do intense research and price comparison.

"Shen, my man, how are you doing today?" Takuma dapped up a young adult who was one of his customers. He thought that if he were friendly with his customers and made them feel comfortable, they would be more open to approaching him more often.

"Hey, Jin," said Shen, looking around a street with a public park on one side and a street full of restaurants on the other side.

'Jin' was one of the identities that Takuma had created to interact with his customers. Takuma wasn't a weed dealer, but his other identities were. His civilian customers weren't able to tell that he was using Henge no Jutsu (Transformation Jutsu), and his shinobi customers who could tell weren't able to tell what was behind the disguise—only that he was disguised, which worked for both parties.

"Don't be like that; look at me," Takuma gripped Shen's hand, stopping the young man from letting his nervous eyes wander around. As long as they acted like two friends who met on the street, no one was going to look at them. "So, how much do you want today?"

"...The same as last time," said Shen.

"Excellent, we can make that happen."

"Can I also get some rolling paper and filters as well?"

"Of course, we can do that as well," Takuma smiled. He had brought a lot of rolling paper and joint filters in bulk so he could sell the 'accessories' as well. If the customers could get everything required directly from him and simplify the purchasing process, they would keep coming back to him. "You know the deal, payment first." But, simultaneously, he had to set boundaries and be strict when it came to dealing. A balance was necessary for good business.

Shen took out a few bills of cash and handed them to Takuma.

"Nice doing business with you, Shen," Takuma (Jin) smiled after he counted the money with a glance. "You know where to find me the next time."

Takuma turned back and walked away. Behind him, Shen patted his satchel bag, looked inside, and found that the weed, rolling paper, and filters were already in his bag. Being a shinobi with great sleight-of-hand skills was a great skill for dealing illegal stuff.

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