You were traveling through a small town, exploring the area that is far different and less industrialized as one of the great nations. You saw a boy no older then 7 carrying wood on his back. How young for a child to be doing labor like that you thought.

While sitting down for a meal at a local restaurant you see him later running off as the sun goes down with a bottle of alcohol in his hands. Then you overhear the waitress talking to a local.

Such a shame for that boy. His father is a drunk. I heard he hits him too.

You stand up and ask where his house is, hearing enough.

Go north through the tree and you'll see a small house. But, be careful. His father hates interruptions. she gives you an almost worried look.

You leave, walking in the direction. No way after hearing all that can you leave this child. You come up to the house and knock. You're a shinobi from one of the great nations. If you have to, you're not afraid to use your jutsu. You soon hear a grumble.

See who that is, boy. And hurry it up. you can hear his fathers drunk slurring and soon the door opens. You look down and see the child looking up at you. And upon a closer look... his wounds.

H-hello... can i help you? his voice so softspoken it hurts your heart.