Kusagakure did not look prosperous. In fact, parts of it appeared worn and dilapidated.
But to Karina—who had wandered for so long—having a roof over her head and a relatively stable source of food was already more than enough.
Holding little Karin in her arms, she felt nothing but gratitude toward the shinobi who had brought them here. In her heart, she began to imagine a future where her daughter could grow up safely within these walls.
What she didn't know was that after settling them in, the very same shinobi immediately went to report to the leader of Kusagakure.
"Leader, while I was outside, I discovered something… something extraordinary!" the shinobi said excitedly.
"Oh? Something extraordinary?" The village leader sounded unconvinced, almost dismissive.
"It's a woman! She possesses an incredible ability!" The shinobi gestured animatedly. "If you bite her, your wounds heal rapidly—and even depleted chakra is restored!"
"Ridiculous!" the leader snapped immediately. "There's no such absurd thing in this world. Were you injured so badly that you've lost your senses?"
"It's true! Absolutely true!" the shinobi insisted. He lifted his clothing to reveal the site of his previous injury. Only a faint scar remained.
"Look! By normal standards, this wound should've taken ten days to half a month to fully heal! But I bit her twice, and it's completely recovered! My chakra even feels more abundant than before!"
The leader stared at the nearly healed wound. A flicker of doubt passed through his eyes. Yet years of conventional knowledge made such a claim difficult to accept.
He fell silent, frowning.
The shinobi, seeing his hesitation, swore repeatedly—even offering his life as a guarantee.
Faced with the man's unwavering insistence and the undeniable speed of recovery, the leader's skepticism finally began to waver.
In his murky eyes, a new light emerged—a mixture of astonishment, greed, and calculation.
"Just one bite… and recovery…" he murmured, fingers tapping absently on the table.
If this was true…
Then that woman was nothing less than a walking medical treasury.
For Kusagakure—a village lacking both resources and formidable strength—her value would be immeasurable.
"You're certain?" the leader asked at last, his voice carrying the faintest tremor.
"I stake my life on it!" the shinobi replied firmly.
"…Good."
A meaningful smile slowly spread across the leader's face.
"In that case… we shall 'verify' your claim."
He had already formed a plan.
True or not, he would confirm this ability personally.
And the method of verification would not be gentle.
Before long, the shinobi who had brought Karina and Karin into the village returned to see them.
This time, he looked even more disheveled. Fresh wounds covered his body, and his chakra appeared unstable—like someone who had just come from a fierce battle.
"You're hurt again?" Karina exclaimed, startled. She stepped forward with concern.
He waved dismissively, forcing a weary but reassuring smile.
"It's nothing major. A spy infiltrated the village—I let my guard down. But don't worry, it's been dealt with."
He gestured toward the modest yet tidy house before them.
"This is the place the village arranged for you. From now on, you and your daughter can live here in peace."
Karina looked at the roof above her head—the symbol of stability—and at the man who appeared to have been injured protecting the village.
Gratitude and guilt intertwined in her heart.
She clenched her teeth, made up her mind, and once more extended her arm. Though her voice trembled, her resolve did not.
"Then… bite me again. You'll recover faster."
The second time came far more easily than the first.
This time, the shinobi did not hesitate long. After offering a perfunctory thanks, he leaned down and bit her arm.
Warm blood flowed once more into his throat.
The familiar sensation—wounds closing, chakra replenishing—was even more intoxicating than before.
For a moment, he nearly sighed in satisfaction.
Soon after, he left, content.
Karina remained behind, her complexion noticeably paler.
When the door closed and only mother and daughter remained, the calm gratitude on Karina's face vanished instantly.
She sat down slowly, holding her oblivious child, her expression dark and heavy.
She was not a fool.
Once might be coincidence. A repayment of kindness.
But injuries that came again and again—so conveniently timed. And the increasingly practiced, almost eager movements of the shinobi…
Alarm bells rang loudly in her heart.
This so-called "stability" might demand a price far beyond what she could bear.
She lowered her gaze to her daughter's innocent red eyes—eyes untouched by the world's cruelty.
Bitterness and anguish welled up within her.
Gently stroking Karin's soft hair, she asked in a hoarse but tender voice,
"Karin… do you like it here?"
Little Karin blinked her wide eyes, unable to grasp the weight in her mother's tone.
She looked at their new "home," safe from wind and rain. Then she looked at her mother.
After a long pause, she answered in her childish voice:
"I like it!"
In her tiny world, no longer wandering from place to place, having food and shelter—that was enough to mean "like."
Karina's body trembled faintly at her daughter's answer.
Then she forced a smile—an expression layered with despair, resignation, and fierce maternal resolve.
She hugged her daughter tightly, as if trying to fuse her into her very bones.
"Alright… since Karin likes it…"
"Then we'll stay."
Those words were like shackles.
They bound both her and her most precious child to this place—a place that offered shelter on the surface but concealed insatiable greed and looming danger beneath.
She knew the road ahead might lead into an abyss.
But for her daughter's simple "I like it"… for the fragile illusion of stability…
She chose to stay.
And that was precisely what Kusagakure's leadership had hoped for.
Outside the Heavenly Curtain, in the present, Karin watched her mother's heavy expression and heard once again those words—
"Since Karin likes it, we'll stay."
It struck her like a bolt of lightning.
In that instant, she understood.
Her mother had known.
She had seen the signs. Felt the danger.
And still, she had chosen to remain—for her daughter.
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