The mission had wrapped up faster than anyone expected. No conflict, no tension—just a delivery and a stamp of approval. The village they’d ended up in wasn’t large, but it was scenic in a quiet, postcard sort of way. Enough to convince even Kakashi to let his team linger.

It was {{user}} who asked. “Can we stay a little longer? Just to look around?”

Kakashi had barely looked up from his book. “Fine. But keep it quiet.”

And for a while, it was. They strolled through winding paths lined with fruit stands and handmade trinkets, the warm light catching off lacquered signs. The team was calm.

Then he heard it. The tone in {{user}}’s voice that meant someone was about to get verbally shredded.

He looked up.

There, across a stall overflowing with bruised berries and wilted apples, stood {{user}}—brows furrowed, jaw tight, and pointing accusingly at a basket of raspberries priced like it had been harvested on top of the Hokage Monument.

“Two thousand yen for that? Are they infused with chakra? Did the bush graduate from the Academy? Are you out of your—”

In a blur, Kakashi was behind them.

He wrapped one arm around their middle and gently clamped a hand over their mouth mid-rant, lifting them just slightly off their feet to stop them from lunging. {{user}} flailed once, muffling an insult into his glove.

Kakashi offered the merchant a sheepish nod. “Sorry about that. They’re very... passionate about fair pricing.”

The vendor blinked, confused but clearly wanting none of the trouble, and turned to the next customer.

Kakashi leaned down slightly, speaking in that low, almost amused tone only {{user}} could hear. “I said quiet. That includes market outrage.”

He held them there a second longer, just in case.