Adult-FanFiction.org : Naruto

Torima's Vessel	By : jenniferboka Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 1195 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Exiting the forest that morning, we came upon a splendid gate, Sano-sensei astride the blue roan, Raije, and I riding the more-relaxed red filly, Mitsu. My first impression of the gate yielded nothing but an architectural display approximately 100 years in age. The portico shading the gate above gave the eloquent statement: ‘where the flowers always bloom.’ No spiked tops, no long-stretched catwalk, no guardhouses. Simply two guards standing beside this sprawling wooden gate in the Lord of the land’s official colors: light green that reminds one of spring grass and the deep purple of sunset. And obviously a country of less than substantial means by so few a number.
From the corner of my eye, I caught Sano-sensei replace her mask and, giving me a nod to follow, start for the gate. The guards stiffened at our advance until their unskilled knuckles turned white, moving to block our way. “State your business or be on your way,” commanded the nearest, a man of perhaps 30 years with hair the color of wheat, finally withdrawing his weapon from its sheath.
Without a word, and before the guard could realize it, he held a pair of small scrolls in place of the weapon, compliments of Sano-sensei’s agility, the weapon returned to its rightful place. “Ah. Shinobi,” crooned the second, a man of approximately 50 years with jet black hair, just greying at the temples, and a moustache of the same tone, shifting to his other foot with ease, “Don’t bother getting them to speak, Tenyu. The masked ones aren’t sent but for damned good reasons. Everything’s usually explained by other means…probably those scrolls they just handed to you.” Giving us a look that could kill anyone else, the first proceeded to read the identification papers Sano-sensei’d handed him, while his older comrade inspected our packs and their contents.
“Food…herbs…clothes…shinobi weaponry,” the older guard ticked off his list. “Anything else?” he queried, his eyes shifting between Sano-sensei and myself for an answer. A shake of my head and the guard gave Sano-sensei his full attention. Swinging her right knee back over Raije, Sano-sensei displayed the last of the equipment she’d brought: her katana.
“A katana, eh?”
With a nod to confirm the guard’s suspicions, she’d gingerly untied the leather strap from her midsection, making sure the guard had view of her fingers at all times. Handing it down to him, she let him grasp the worn sheath as he inspected it while she kept hold of the hilt. “A fine piece of craftsmanship. I’ll need you to unsheathe it slightly to see the maker’s mark, though.” Nodding her head and with a quick flick of her wrist, the first 5 centimeters of the blade was revealed, but she still refused to relinquish the hilt to the guard. “Ah, the Tachibana flying crane.” Making another note on his list, he continued with a “Thank you. You may re-sheath it.”
We both knew the guards were just doing their jobs, and we were just doing ours. At least…most of us did. Brought out of my reverie by Mitsu’s quiet nickering and flattened ears, I watched the second guard unsheathe his weapon again and tramp his way toward Sano-sensei, my hand going to my disguised tonto… just in case.
“Mind showing us some proof of who you two are? How do we know these aren’t fakes?” the younger guard scoffed, shouldering his partner to the side to let Sano-sensei get a better look at the identification papers. Detecting a deceptive smile behind Sano-sensei’s mask, she gave the younger guard an indifferent shrug before turning my way and, with a lowering of her head, inconspicuously… pointed to her eyes. With an imperceptible nod back, I slowly lifted the jutsu disguising the Sharingan underneath, letting the younger guard obtain a good look.
“What the hell is tha…” the guard, Tenyu, blustered before falling straight into unconsciousness in the mud, the spinning tomoe concealed once again shortly thereafter. Shaking her head, Sano-sensei dismounted, hefting the unconscious motor-mouth over her shoulder and gently propped him upright at his original post.
“I know my partner, Tenyu, may have been a little…uncouth, perhaps, but…” the elder guard muttered, shaking his head himself at Tenyu as Sano-sensei came astride of him. “Brazenly disrespectful is more like it,” Sano-sensei interrupted, hiding not an ounce of the scorn in her tone as she reclaimed her seat, “He’s lucky our mounts are well-trained; any other would have stomped him flat had he approached as he did.”
“He’s done his job correctly, Miss,” the older guard reproached, retrieving the fallen identification papers from the muddy ground, returning one set to myself with an apologetic smile. “May I see some proof of your ID, Miss?” Carefully rolling back her right sleeve to her shoulder, the ANBU’s mark was revealed. But what were these curves flanking either side of it?
“Thank you for your time, Guard-san. However, we’re in a bit of a hurry. I assume everything checks out?”
“Yes, everything checks out for both of you,” Guard-san stated returning to his more professional role, while Sano-sensei once again hid any source of her identity. “As customary, these visas are only good for the allotted time: two weeks for you both. After such time, you’ll need them either re-instated by a local authority, or return to your homeland to have them re-issued. As warning, certain towns in the region have restricted travel to daylight hours only, and, as I’m sure you’re aware, almost all the towns in the region restrict the carrying of armaments and blades in plain sight.”
“I’m sure the latter will be no problem, Guard-san,” I answered quickly, earning a curious glance and then a silent nod from Sano-sensei. “Well then,” Guard-san allowed, standing back to press the gate open and reveal the stone and mud path to the great hills beyond with a grunt, “Welcome to the Land of Fields. Have a pleasant stay, and – if I may be so bold – hope to see you back this way again soon.”
“A nice sentiment, Guard-san,” Sano-sensei muttered from the corner of her mask, kicking Raije into a walk as I did the same to Mitsu. But, with apparent second thoughts, she swung Raije wide to stare back at the older guard about to close the gate behind us. “Guard-san,” she called back, gaining the winded guard’s gaze as I rode past on Mitsu deciding to take the lead…if only for a bit. “Thank you… We will, if we can.” I heard the smile in her voice, and immediately my thoughts turned with questions. Why was she so friendly with this particular guard? The clack of octupled hoof-beats broke me from my reverie as Raije finally pulled astride his sister.
“What do you suppose that was all about, Sensei?” I queried, ducking branches as they came into view. “I got the sense something hit close to home for him seeing us,” Sano-sensei answered matter-of-factly. “Not the usual spiel the Land of Field guards give upon seeing a shinobi off. *Sigh* Come on, Shin, let’s not keep Lord Kyassuru-sama waiting. He’s paying us quite handsomely, after all. Raije, deyou!”
Watching the blue roan gradually pick up speed until Sano-sensei was once again leading the charge, I called Mitsu to break as well keeping stride with Raije. All the while, my thoughts turned about the night before.
Nothing but more questions, I’d realized.
“I know what you’re thinking, Shin,” I heard Sano-sensei call over the din of racing hooves and broken branches. “Just stay sharp. Don’t worry, Miru-san’s never let me down before. We’ll all figure this out. By the way, how’d you knock that guard out?”
O------------------------------------------------O
We’d made good time that day, sticking to the less traveled roads and backstreets and arriving to Lord Daimyo Setsukan Kyassuru’s country estate, just a few miles outside the outskirts of Aishu proper, within 5 hours of reaching the border. Once at the gate, the same ritual as with the border guards began: the checking of ID papers, the confiscation and perusal of our packs and (most) of our weapons, and as usual the query of our business.
“The Lord Daimyo requested our presence here to help with his niece, Chiaki-dono,” Sensei started, looking over at myself to continue, which I did, “Please tell him we’ve arrived and that we’d like to meet with him at his soonest available convenience; preferably, the sooner the better.”
“In the meantime,” Sensei’d finished, dismounting quickly to lay her arm atop Raije’s neck. “We have the word of Lord Kyassuru-sama’s co-operation, including any additional materials or services we might require during our employment within reason. That being said, could you stable our mounts, please? They’ve brought us a long way QUITE QUICKLY and deserve a good grooming for their part.” Earning a nod from the lead guard as another hurried away to deliver the message of our arrival, I dismounted as well, shifting the pack with our foodstuffs from Raije’s back to the ground.
“Why is that pack so important?” came a sneer from a younger guard patrolling nearby. “Have something in it for the Lord Daimyo?” The flash of a blade brought my arm guard up to parry, but the edge of Sensei’s katana filled the space between the two of us. The soundless move effectively brought all available eyes to the immediate scene, as she swung the tip to point it directly at the young guard’s adams-apple.
“You do well to respect my partner and myself, Guard-san. Else, we’ll have no other choice but to find more acceptable employment. The time your Lord’s given us to complete this task is slowly slipping away while you berate us - very valuable, precious time.” Drawing her arm back into a thrusting position, she seized the young guard’s collar with her left hand, lifting him a full fifteen centimeters off the ground as the young guard struggled to break her grip. Looking closer, I watched my sensei’s eyes take on the orange-yellow glow of ‘Kira’s eyes under her mask as she continued, “I’ll make myself clear only once, so listen closely: If you or anyone else finds fault in our being here, I suggest you tell it to the end of my blade. We have better things to do with our time than waste it on you. Understood?”
“Field Commander?” came the curious question from the veranda overlooking the front gate and the stone garden with its meticulously raked white sand. Upon further inspection, there came a profound yet quiet man of perhaps 30 or 35 years with the spry step of a man half his age. While wearing clothes made of simpler fibers in muted tones of brown, it was obvious - as the guards made way for him - this man was indeed of some importance in the Lord’s standing.
Despairingly releasing the guard from her grasp as she placed him on his feet, Sensei brushed past the bewildered younger guard to accept the gentleman’s advance. …But he walked right past her…and stopped in front of me. “If you please, I am Emon Rae-en, Lord Kyassuru-sama’s scribe,” the gentleman bowed deeply, extending his hand afterwards to grasp mine firmly. “The Lord begs you be patient while he finishes tending to smaller matters. He’s told me to see you to your arranged quarters, in the meantime.”
“Well met, Rae-en-sama,” I choked out quickly as Sensei calmly stalked back to my side, provoking my worst nervous habit, “but I’m not the Field Commander, Sir.”
“Then, you are two of his associates?” the scribe quickly queried, pointing between Sensei and myself in quick succession, “We were informed that you would all arrive within two days time. Is the Commander held up elsewhere?”
“Actually, Rae-en-sama,” I pivoted to bring Rae-en-sama’s full attention to my inconspicuously fuming sensei, the katana in her hand almost groaning with her grip so tight, “This is Field Commander Koumori-san.” Pulling herself together quickly, I watched as Sano-sensei bowed deeply to Rae-en-sama, returning to her upright position and sheathing her katana as the scribe mutely processed the information.
“There must be some mistake,” Rae-en-sama finally stammered, flipping through a stack of papers that inconspicuously made their appearance as if from thin air. “He’s not mistaken, Rae-en-sama,” Sano-sensei sighed out, stilling the scribe’s frantic searching to once again lock eyes with him through her mask, her arms crossing against her chest. “But how can that be? A lady so young…” the scribe faltered, back-peddling as quickly as he could over his previous rudeness. Sensei must have forgiven the scribe’s unease as she continued with a light laugh, “Our appearances are deceiving of our skills, Rae-en-sama. Our nation is known for training their warriors starting from a very young age. This gentleman you’ve met is my partner, Shin Sabomata. I hope you are not disappointed.”
“Not at all, Koumori-sama,” the scribe stuttered, visibly sweating now. “It’s just the Lord might be a little surprised that this matter is headed by a female leader. …But not to worry, I’ll inform him of this, and I’m sure he’ll be willing to meet you as soon as possible, if not immediately. If you’ll please, follow me.”
“Of course,” Sano-sensei stated flippantly, following the skittering scribe, across the grounds and onto the verdana while I handed Mitsu over to the nearest guard with a quick and polite ‘thank you,’ shadowing Sensei within seconds. Within moments, Rae-en-sama had us standing in a fairly large suite. “This is the guest’s quarters, Koumori-sama. Through that door, if you wish to freshen up, is the o furo and oshiire for your attire. Shin-sama, your quarters are…”
“That won’t be necessary, Rae-en-sama,” Sensei’d interrupted quite quickly, stepping farther into the spacious room, “These quarters will be suitable for the both of us. More than adequate, actually.”
“But Koumori-sama, these are the lady’s chambers. The men’s are down the next corridor.”
“I understand, Rae-en-sama. However, it’s required of me as leader to assure those on my squad are safe at all times,” Sensei white-lied, “I’ll be unable to keep that part of my duties, if my squad is lodged in several places within the estate at once.” I guess she also noticed the sizing sideways glance given me as she continued, gaining his attention once again, “But if it’s OTHER matters that concern you about my squad, I assure you Shin-san and I are nothing but professional in our business here. We’ll not disrupt the goings-on of the estate anymore than absolutely necessary.” Glancing toward the shoji leading to the o furo with a slight smile, she continued, “I WOULD like to freshen up, now that you mention it. If you would, please, send someone for us when the Lord has ample time, it would be most appreciated.”
“Yes. Of course,” Rae-en-sama grumbled beneath his breath, ducking his head to try to cover the blush rising from his neck. Gazing back in my direction, the glare did not escape me. “Should you change your mind… Shin-san.”
“Thank you, Rae-en-sama. …You’re most kind,” I smiled tautly, not letting the tone of my voice change, even the ire I felt. Nodding his head once, he turned to leave, his hand clutching the shoji frame and muttering some concluding terms about ‘should we need any materials, just call for one of the maids.’
“He’s hiding something, Commander,” I muttered, afraid to call her ‘Sensei’ after she’d called me her partner. “You felt it, too, hmm?” Sensei murmured low in her throat, glaring daggers at the door through which Rae-en-sama had just left. Placing her hands against the shoji frame, she grunted once before the glow of a thin layer of her chakra crept along the walls, ceiling, and floor and along into the o furo chamber through the threshold under which she stood. The hustle and bustle of the outside activities slowly faded into silence before Sensei lowered her hands from the doorframe.
“Whoever he is, ‘Rae-en’-san’s chakra was suppressed enough that you only barely feel his transformation. I sensed his energy, but I’ve not felt one like his before. It’s hot and cold at the same time.”
“Energy that’s hot and cold at the same time. What exactly do you mean by that, Commander?”
“Hot energy usually indicates fire, thunder, rock, or some medical as primary styles. Cold energy usually indicates water, earth, air, or other medical as primary styles. His energy is both. It means he could be just about any style. I can’t pinpoint which, though,” Sensei concluded, pulling the mask from her face and laying it upon the futon luxuriously spread out across the floor. Rising from her crouch, hard, calculating eyes met mine. “For whatever reason, he’s trying to separate us. Keep on your guard.”
“I understand, Commander,” I agreed, removing my scarf and guards and rooting around into my pack for a fresh change of clothes.
---------------------
It was three hours before the Lord was able to meet with us. The reverberation of knocking on the shoji had me in a guarded stance as I slowly, silently unsheathed my tonto, sliding the door open to look down on a pair of terrified green eyes. “Ko...Koumori-sa…sama?” the mouth below asked as green eyes trembled, quivering fingers laced together in a plainly-clothed lap. My eyes narrowed as my head shook slowly from side-to-side, re-sheathing my tonto as my arms settled crossed across my broad chest.
I wasn’t prepared as the terrified, green-eyed woman promptly fainted. Her weight sagged against me as I scooped down to awkwardly catch her. “Someone call for me?” Sensei called as she emerged from the o furo chamber, a satiny yukata wrapped snugly around her form as a white towel rubbed rigorously at her scalp. Seeing the scene she was presented with, the towel at her scalp line was immediately forgotten to drop to her knees to quickly check over the woman in my arms.
“Breathing’s stable. Coloring’s good. Pulse is rapid. What the hell did you do to her, Shin?!”
“She just fainted. I must have scared her, Commander,” I shrugged the glaring look she gave me off with a smile. “You scared her,” Sensei quietly laughed as well, ducking her head and shaking it in disbelief. “Alright, let’s wake her up.” Nodding my head as I handed the woman off to Sano-sensei, I placed my palm against the base of the woman’s skull while my other index finger found the center of her forehead – an interesting technique that Ko-sama had taught me. A quiet moan and a flutter of lashes within seconds brought the young woman around. Before the woman could lay eyes on me again, Sano-sensei brought the woman’s attention immediately to her.
“Hello. Were you looking for me, Miss?”
“Umm…yes,” the woman scooted forward off Sano-sensei’s lap to face her in a perfect seated position. “I was sent to inform you that Lord Kyassuru-sama is ready to see you. However, Rae-en-sama insists that I prepare you to see Lord Kyassuru-sama. Oh, I left the clothes in the hall!” Scampering quickly to where she’d left the neatly folded garments lay outside the shoji, I watched Sano-sensei’s eyes widen upon the woman - who was to be our maid while here, I guessed.
As the woman closed the shoji and returned with the clothes, Sano-sensei once again schooled her features into one of appeased calm…yet…her eyes now held a slightly weary quality as she locked eyes with this skittish woman. That is… until she laid eyes upon her introduction wear. I had to look away to keep from laughing and springing a nosebleed at the same time as the maid carefully unfolded the clothes on the floor, smoothing out the wrinkles.
Slumping slightly to cover bewildered eyes with her bangs, what left Sensei’s mouth was just barely a whisper. “You have got to be kidding me! Does Lord Kyassuru see all his DISTINGUISHED female guests in such, or was this Rae-en-sama’s idea of what I should wear?”
“No, Koumori-sama,” the maid answered, glancing worriedly over her shoulder at the door she’d recently entered through.
“It’s okay. You’re not in trouble,” I interjected with one of my most charming smiles. Apparently though, this maid appeared immune to my charms. They actually had the opposite affect, I noticed, as I watched a full-body shiver begin.
“Koumori-sama, why is there a man in this room? Is he…” she queried under her breath, her skittish eyes occasionally flicking towards me as a blush lit her fine-pointed features.
“It’s alright. He’s my bodyguard. He’s supposed to be in here with me,” Sensei white-lied again. “I promise Shin won’t scare YOU again.”
Glancing fearfully over her shoulder again toward the shoji door, it was obvious she was afraid someone was listening. I wouldn’t have been surprised if someone actually was, but to release my chakra to detect a presence outside would have blown our cover. Turning around to face Sensei again, she quietly continued, “I actually picked this out for you. What Lord Kyassuru-sama offers his female guests tends to be far more…flamboyant. Truthfully, this is the most conservative piece I could find for you, Koumori-sama.” Raising her voice to a little louder than speaking level, her eyes flashed back to the shoji once again, “Does it please you, Ma’am?” before fixing Sano-sensei with a pleading gaze.
Smiling heartily and bringing her hand to her mouth for a minute to stifle a fake cough, Sano-sensei matched her tone, “Yes, it pleases me very much. When you’re finished, I’ll have to thank Lord Kyassuru-sama personally for such a lovely gift. You may start my hair now.” A grateful smile split the maid’s face as she made her way behind Sano-sensei’s back, brush in hand to begin her task. “Forgive me if I speak frankly; it has been such a long trip. When did you start working for Lord Kyassuru-sama? You’re so young, no older than Shin-san there. What did you say your name was?”
“Forgive me, Koumori-sama, I forgot,” the maid apologized as she undid Sano-sensei’s high-hung hair meticulously camouflaged in a bright auburn color. “My name is Abi, and I began working for Lord Kyassuru-sama about three months ago.”
“I’ve heard that Lord Kyassuru-sama’s niece has been traveling with him for a while. Yet, I haven’t seen her today. Will I be meeting her with Lord Kyassuru-sama?”
“I’m afraid not, Koumori-sama,” the maid sighed as she began brushing out the long strands of Sano-sensei’s hair, Sensei herself giving me a look beneath her bangs that couldn’t be missed. “Chiaki-dono has been…detained this afternoon, and won’t be able to join Lord Kyassuru-sama.” A smirk graced Sensei’s face at the word ‘detained.’ So as not to distract either of them, I placed myself by the shoji door to the hallway, standing as I had before when I’d scared Abi-chan with arms crossed over my chest but my ear tuned finely to the tone of the maid’s voice. Whether she was aware of it or not, we’d just gained an inside informant, and fortunately for us, it seemed that she was not aware of our true reason for being there. But unfortunately, it seemed she’d been trained on what to say should questions arise about the Lord’s niece’s whereabouts.
“How disappointing that I cannot meet her!” Sensei feigned a sad tone, luring the maid further into her confidence. “I’ve been told that Chiaki-dono is very pretty. She must have several suitors vying for her affections.”
“Oh, no, Koumori-sama,” Abi-chan chuckled, twisting Sensei’s hair into a complicated set, “She is very pretty, but she won’t be finding any suitors for a few years yet. Lord Setsukan-sama has forbidden her to until she’s old enough.” Silence reigned for a few moments as Sensei let the maid finish dressing her hair, smiling into the mirror presented her as she craned her neck left and right to examine Abi-chan’s handiwork. “Well done. Now, help me into this garment.”
“Of course,” Abi-chan exclaimed, rising with a slight limp as Sano-sensei rose herself with a grace any high-born lady would be jealous of, and only any kunoichi could perfect. Graciously keeping my eyes facing the shoji, the rustle of fabric reached my ears as I tried my best not to let it affect me. “I noticed the mark on your neck, Abi-san,” Sensei replied matter-of-factly, forcing my eyes to return to the scene over my shoulder as the maid froze as stiff as stone and she laughed outright. “Yes. I tend to be quite clumsy, Koumori-sama.”
Craning my head myself, I caught a glance at the back of the maid’s tanned neck; the mark resembling a pair of ‘Y’s connected vertically at the stems with two dots filling the one on top. Even half-clothed, the calculating stare Sensei leveled at Abi-chan was enough to start the maid shivering again as she moved to finish wrapping Sensei in the luxurious blue garment speckled with images of red and gold bloomed roses and phoenixes swooping in flight. “It’s difficult to get hurt on that part of your neck,” Sensei continued on with a concerned tone, ducking her head to watch Abi-chan tie the deep scarlet obi about her midsection, “If you were falling forward, you’d have to almost snap your neck to obtain a wound there. If you were falling backwards, you’d have to…well, I guess I’m just curious as to EXACTLY how you got hurt there.”
“It happened before I met Lord Kyassuru-sama, an old wound,” Abi-chan muttered quickly, obviously wishing to forget the conversation all together as she gave Sensei’s hair a quick pat. Obviously, a quick change in tactics was in order, as Sano-sensei chance a change in mood.
“Forgive me, Abi-san. I was just thinking it looks to be the same mark as a friend of mine had on her neck,” Sensei whispered soulfully, a look of pain in her eyes… and this one – surprisingly – not fake, “Only she didn’t fall. She was bought from a slave camp near Naiki, after being kidnapped from Sengu during the war. Oh, but that was years ago! I guess I was wondering if something similar happened to you.”
“No…I was bought here in Aishu,” Abi-chan whispered, sinking back on her knees into a perfect seated position once again as her body continued shaking, her head tucked low to her chest as her own mousy brown hair fell to cover her face. “Bought by a stranger. The stranger gave me to Lord Kyassuru-sama. I’ve been here ever since.”
“Do you dress Chiaki-dono’s hair like this, too? You’re very good at it,” Sano-sensei consoled, attempting to calm the maid’s fears, but to no avail. Apparently, another switch in tactics was in order. “Can you tell me about before, Abi-san?” Sano-sensei asked quickly, turning around to lift Abi-chan’s horror-filled eyes to hers, her own gaze one of compassion and the need to understand, yet still determined to get an answer. “How long were you in this place that gave you that mark? What did the guy look like who bought you?”
“I’m sorry, Koumori-sama. …I can’t,” Abi-chan murmured, head shaking firmly back-and-forth as tears ran down her cheeks in rivers and Sano-sensei let her drop her eyes again. Rising again, Abi-chan’s limp was more pronounced this time, nearly causing the maid to trip several times before she finally gained hold of the shoji’s frame to steady herself. “No, Abi-san, I’m sorry. It was rude of me to have asked. Thanks for your help with the clothes,” Sano-sensei replied, gaining the maid’s tearful eyes and trembling smile before Abi-chan finally left, “may they all rot” the muttered expletive of choice from the maid.
“Whatever happened to her, she’s far from happy about it. They broke her legs to keep her from running. You asked her if ‘she was bought’,” I concluded, my mix-matched eyes meeting Sano-sensei’s as she bent to give the obi a careful pat, “What does this have to do with Chiaki-dono? You think she was kidnapped and sold to a slave trade?”
“No, worse,” Sensei muttered, regaining the mirror Abi-chan had left behind without realizing, “Much worse.” A pass of a hand in front of her face and she could have passed for royalty with the decadent picture she made, had it not been for the clothes she wore and the steel in her eyes.
“There’s something you’re not telling me, Commander. You smell something…”
“I do, but I’ll have to explain later,” she interrupted quickly, her hard eyes enough to cut diamonds. “We need the abduction details from Lord Kyassuru-sama. I won’t be able to confirm my suspicions without them. If I’m right, an old evil has come back to haunt Aishu.” Releasing the silencing barrier from the room, she grasped the shoji so hard it splintered in her hand before she could slam it open. “Calm down, Commander,” I stated, laying a comforting hand on Sano-sensei’s shoulder as she pulled the wood slivers from her hand. “No sense getting worked up until we get the details of what happened. Besides, Lord Kyassuru-sama’s waiting for us.”
What I saw next I knew I’d never forget: Sensei laid me with a gaze so full of anger I was sure I was burning from its heat. But surprisingly…her eyes…were still the color of cinnamon. Fisting her hands so tight they started bleeding, I watched with my usual lop-sided smile as Sensei ducked her head taking several deep breaths. One final breath and her hands uncoiled. “Right” was the only word from her mouth as she carefully opened the mangled door and stepped into the corridor…only to meet Rae-en-sama.
“I see you’re both ready,” Rae-en-sama greeted us, a lecherous glint in his eyes as his gaze traveled the length of Sano-sensei. “I knew Abi would do wonders for you.”
Even I had to admit Sano-sensei looked stunning in the patterned, short blue kimono that draped naturally off her shoulders as her upswept hair accentuated the length of her neck. The kimono was short enough that it barely left anything to the imagination of the luscious body hidden within its folds.
WHOA! Where’d that come from?! Storing my thoughts for the moment, I watched Sano-sensei’s brow raise in chagrin as Rae-en-sama continued his indecent approval. So much for calming Sensei down.
“If you’ll lead us to Lord Kyassuru-sama, Rae-en-san,” Sensei stated gruffly, her hands rooted firmly at her sides, “I’m sure His Lordship is most eager to meet with us.”
“Of course,” Rae-en-sama replied, turning to lead the way down the maze of corridors. Within moments, we stood before a set of mahogany-stained double doors, carved therein a picture of a hawk swooping back into the sky, carrying a cobra within its talons. To either side stood the Lord’s personal bodyguards clothed in what only could be the best armor the Land of Fields could afford, which didn’t turn out to be much (it looked to be thick leather at best).
At the word from Rae-en-sama, both guards stepped aside, allowing the door to swing open and the three of us to proceed inside before the doors were closed behind us. The man whose visage greeted us from a small raised platform at the other end of the room looked to be about Sandaime-sama’s age, gray hair turning white along the edges. What would have been neatly-trimmed hair had lost its luster with age as the wrinkles around his eyes defined his stressed state. Otherwise, he looked every bit the part of the well-groomed warlord he was: ramrod straight posture, hooked nose, piercing eyes.
“Rae-en,” the Daimyo acknowledged with a grating tone, sparing Sensei and I the briefest of glances before Rae-en-sama began the introductions.
“My Lord Kyassuru-sama, the shinobi you requested from Fire Country, from the great shinobi village of Konohagakure, are here. May I present to you Field Commander Sandabado Koumori and her partner, Shin.” Bowing deeply as the scribe gave our names, I couldn’t help but glance toward Sano-sensei. Bowing as deeply as she did, her bosom would have spilled from the kimono had it not been for Abi-chan’s precise tying of her obi, yet it did nothing to cover her then semi-exposed rear.
Her face spoke of her mortification of the situation. Even as she glanced back at me, I noticed the annoyed sweat on her face, practically proclaiming how insufferable she felt Rae-en’s speech to be. Giving her one of my patented lop-sided smiles, she seemed to calm down as we both rose to face Lord Kyassuru-sama.
“Your servant, Lord Kyassuru-sama,” Sano-sensei greeted, bobbing another quick bow.
The Daimyo gave us a disgusted look before reaching over to a small table next to him, relieving it of a pair of familiar muddy papers: our IDs.
“You two don’t look much like shinobi to me, much less elite ones…especially by how you’re dressed Field Commander,” the Daimyo spoke gruffly, shaking the papers toward Sano-sensei in particular.
“Forgive me, your Lordship,” Sano-sensei gritted out through clenched teeth, sending a vengeful look Rae-en’s way as the air sparked with her annoyance, making Rae-en shrink and retreat several paces, “I was told this was a beautiful gift from yourself, and that I was expected to wear it.”
Turning to the Daimyo now with a calm façade, a puff of smoke enveloped Sano-sensei before clearing to find her in her complete ANBU gear sans mask and weapons, “I do hope THIS is more to your liking.” A clearing of his throat was the only acknowledgement given before she continued, “I’d prefer it, your Lordship, if we could speak about this matter in private. Just the three of us, so that my partner and I don’t miss any of the details.”
“Yes, yes. Let’s have some tea, first, shall we?” Lord Kyassuru-sama groaned, unseating himself from his high position to re-seat himself at a low shokutaku near the windows, a hot pot already being poured from another maid’s hands as we followed respectfully behind.
Allowing Sano-sensei to seat herself first, like any gentleman should, I smiled amicably as the maid filled my cup next. However - and I suppose not surprisingly - I gained the same terrified look from this maid as from the other. As she bent to pour Sano-sensei’s tea and then bowed to leave, leaving the teapot among us, the same weary flash crossed Sano-sensei’s face. Giving me a brief hard glare out of the corner of her eye as she moved to lift her cup while the Daimyo was already sipping his, Sano-sensei confirmed my guess: this maid bore the same mark as Abi-chan, our tending maid. With little time, the Daimyo seemed to relax with each sip he took; Sano-sensei, however, did not.
Those marks have really gotten Sensei irritated. Obviously, she’s afraid Chiaki-dono is going through the same thing as the maids. But she’s almost taking this too personally. …She spoke of a friend with the same marks. …Could this have something to do with what happened to Kiyuri?
“Rae-en,” the Daimyo called bitingly, earning a “yes, Lord Kyassuru-sama” in response, “Leave us. I’ll call you when you’re needed.”
I felt the hesitation in the concealed shinobi’s footsteps as he slowly made his way out of the room, carefully closing the door behind him. Throwing a tired glance at Sano-sensei, she just shook her head in annoyance back at me before indicating that I should try the tea and took another sip herself.
“I’m sure you’ve been made aware of the seriousness of the predicament my family is in, Koumori-san,” Lord Kyassuru spoke without preamble, finally setting his tea cup down for the first time since seating himself at the shokutaku. “My niece has been traveling with me, ever since her mother, my sister, died. She’s been missing for three days now. I’ve posted the guards outside the front gate should a ransom letter for her release come.”
“So, no ransom demands have yet been made. When was the last time someone saw your niece, Lord Kyassuru-sama? Where was she last seen?” I queried, taking the lead as Sano-sensei contemplated her slowly-emptying teacup.
“I’ve been told that she was out shopping near Kunda something-or-other in the city. She had one of her maids with her, I’m not sure which one, and also two of my best guards. Her maid said one minute she was there, the next minute she was gone. I immediately dispatched a message to Konohagakure, after several hours of the guards searching to no avail and she’d not returned,” Lord Kyassuru-sama explained, slamming his empty tea cup upon the table, a new crack running the length of it, “I don’t understand it! Why would she even desire new clothes when her oshiire is full to bursting with everything she could ever want?!”
“Had they gone out into the city in plain clothes, something that no one would notice her in?” I continued the interview, easing my posture back a little to give the illusion of ease. In truth, nothing about this mission so far had convinced me the Lord’s niece had been kidnapped. “If a person WANTS to blend-in and not be found, it surely would be easier in plain clothes than the clothes she’s probably used to wearing here at the estate.”
“Are you insinuating, Shinobi, that Chiaki-chan ran away?! A girl of only fourteen years?!” the Daimyo near unseated himself in rage at my line of questioning.
“Excuse my forwardness, but why send for Konohagakure shinobi when the rest of your bodyguards and your maids know, certainly better than we, the streets of Aishu and where Chiaki-dono might have gone?” questioned Sano-sensei, still contemplating the bottom of her tea cup, before taking a final sip and with her eyes closed in contentment, laid the cup gently back on the table. Then, leaning closer to the Daimyo almost menacingly, continued with a hint of mockery in her tone, “Or better still, call in shinobi from Lightning or Earth Country, your own allies? Surely, these ways are less expensive than calling for foreign shinobi, such as us, from neutral territory.”
True, Sensei. It makes one wonder if he was forced into calling for a Konohagakure shinobi for reasons other than his niece’s abduction.
Falling back into her more professional position, she fixed Lord Kyassuru-sama with a placid gaze, “…As a Daimyo, any of your enemies could be playing her as a bargaining chip for one thing or another at this very moment; therefore, I want to know, Lord Kyassuru-sama, have any foreign diplomats or other daimyo visited this estate within the last week? Did any of them blackmail you during their visit, because you refused to do business with or help them? And if so, Lord Kyassuru-sama, with what business did you refuse them help?”
“Straight to the point, are you, Field Commander?” the Daimyo spoke sharply, raising the teapot to fill his own cup once again.
“I’ve come to realize Lord Kyassuru-sama that in dealing with these situations, if no ransom demand is made within a given time frame, the criminals are clearly after something else entirely. Given your authoritative status, it leads me to believe they are either after a favor or a truce with the Land of Fields. Either one is obviously out of the question, in your mind, which leads me to believe it’s either something beyond your capacity to secure and/or give; or it’s an act so vile you wouldn’t even dream of doing it, even to save your own flesh and blood.
“However, there’s still the aspect that they may just wish to keep your niece for any number of reasons. …But if she is like her great ojiji-sama, I see none of those reasons ending happily for her.” I watched as Sano-sensei’s eyes turned from calm to piercingly calculating, the rebuke in her tone evident, “Enough stalling, Lord Kyassuru-sama. I would recommend you answer my questions. The sooner we are through with this, the sooner my partner and I can begin investigating. And I’d like permission for us to begin the investigation by examining Chiaki-dono’s quarters for any possible clues.”
A battle of wills ensued across the table as silence deafened the room for several moments. With a great sigh, whether of relief or grief I was not sure, the Daimyo’s esteemed posture deflated for the weight he surely carried. Throwing back his full tea cup in one swallow like a poor man’s saké, he folded his hands against the table and laid his woes before us.
“A week and a half ago, a younger-looking gentleman managed to get himself inside the estate, past my guards and everyone else. I was in here finishing some routine paperwork, when he just appeared out of nowhere. I called for my guards, but neither answered. He introduced himself as a new daimyo in a nearby country. When I asked why I’d never heard of him, he was very cordial and explained that he and his father were in a transitioning period. He gave the name of Lord Iyatsu as his father. I didn’t indicate I knew better, that Lord Iyatsu’s children made it perfectly clear to their father on my private estate years ago that none of them wanted his title. Unless there’s a son he has of which I am unaware – which is highly unlikely - I swear to you that man was not Lord Iyatsu’s son.
“He asked if I minded if he and his entourage stayed in Aishu for a few days. I warned him about the recent disappearances, but he said he wasn’t overly concerned about it and thanked me anyway. A few minutes later, Chiaki-chan came in for our usual tea, and I asked him to leave so that we could enjoy our tea in peace. Before he left, he asked if I’d be interested in a program his country was starting in order to catalogue the effects of ‘certain environmental stresses’ on the human body; in return, he stated the Land of Fields would benefit from any successful research. I ordered him out. His last words were ‘I’m sure we’ll see each other again very soon. Maybe then you’ll be more receptive to our proposal.’ He left like he came, to who-knows-where. I have not heard from him since.”
“Would you be able to pick him out of a crowd, Kyassuru-sama?” I queried, my interest piqued for the description of this vanishing visitor.
“I’m afraid it would do you no good, Shin-san. He looked like most of the men in Aishu, and his clothes were non-descript, another sign I knew he wasn’t Lord Iyatsu’s son. …It’s almost like he took my memory of him with him when he vanished.”
Hearing this, Sano-sensei’s tea cup dropped to the tabletop with a clatter, a very surprised expression on her face, even as she moved to clean the few drops that had scattered. The Lord Daimyo may have been on in years, but his memory was obviously not flawed much beyond the expected. Leaning closer again to Lord Kyassuru-sama, I watched Sano-sensei choose her next words very carefully. “Lord Kyassuru-sama,” she began, worrying her lip for a moment before persisting, “did this individual… exude… a sense of danger about him, when you first saw him?”
“I’m not sure I understand your question, Field Commander. I’ve told you by the way he talked I discerned he was lying to me.”
“And that’s very helpful, Lord Kyassuru-sama… but it’s a very… specific answer I’m after. …Have you ever employed shinobi in the past?”
“No. There was never need for shinobi assistance until now. As you insinuated previously, my guards are much more on-hand.” Sano-sensei glanced at me with hard eyes at the Daimyo’s answer, swinging her head back toward the door, rising from her seat with a brief ‘excuse me.’
“As shinobi, Lord Kyassuru-sama,” I continued, training an ear should Sano-sensei require some assistance, “We’re trained to use our bodies to their utmost. We can enhance our physical abilities, if we so choose, by using chakra, a type of flowing energy that shinobi are endowed with. Unfortunately, Koumori-san and I both believe that this non-Daimyo visitor you spoke of might have been another shinobi in disguise. A non-descript appearance is the trademark of a shinobi trained in the arts of espionage and subterfuge. …And he may be involved in your niece’s disappearance.”
“Lord Kyassuru-sama,” Sano-sensei stated loudly, running through a quick set of hand signs before slapping her hands against the large double doors in the back of the room, stalking back towards us as the Daimyo’s face took on a look of horror at my proclamation. “When I asked you earlier if you felt a sense of danger around this intruder, I was hoping you’d tell me you felt a cold chill run down your back, or maybe you felt like your skin was crawling. I was hoping you could glean a physical sensation from your memories of how this intruder’s chakra affected you.” All propriety cast to the wind, Sano-sensei knelt next to Lord Kyassuru-sama, her voice nothing but frustration, “Since that is not the case, I’d like to ask permission to probe your memory of that day for my own purposes.” Upon hearing this, Lord Kyassuru-sama fixed her with a suspicious glance across his nose, but Sano-sensei kept her eyes calm and neutral. “There’s no need to worry; I’ve done this technique many times while interrogating prisoners. All you need do is concentrate as best you can on when this intruder first appeared to you. But again, Kyassuru-sama, only with your permission.”
“What guarantee do I have that you’ll do nothing but search my memory, Field Commander?”
“I cannot guarantee you anything, Kyassuru-sama. It is YOU that must remember this man as clearly as you can. I am merely a witness, through you, to these events. ...If I can find a sample of his chakra through your memories, it will significantly help the chances of Shin-san and I tracking this intruder down, and determining if he has any connection to your niece’s abduction.”
Lord Kyassuru-sama turned to regard Sensei with a stern gaze. I watched the wheels turning over and over in his mind, before he gave a single sigh, “Field Commander, I’m not afraid to tell you I’m against such unorthodox tactics. …However, if it will help find Chiaki-chan more quickly, I grant you permission to search anything within my possession for whatever you deem pertinent to returning her to me safely.”
“Thank you, Lord Kyassuru-sama. Now, please relax and concentrate on the events of that day. Close your eyes, if it helps,” Sano-sensei instructed, taking one of the Lord’s large hands into her own, the other she extended toward myself with an expectant look on her face. “You need to see this, too,” she whispered, nodding her head in the unseeing Lord’s direction as he took some calming breaths. “I can’t keep reminding you what it felt like; it’s not progressive that way.”
“What about…?” I stated, nodding my head back toward the double doors, knowing she’d understand more what I didn’t say. “He won’t bother us. …I made sure of it,” she whispered venomously under her breath, turning back to give the Lord’s hand a squeeze of reassurance, her other hand lying expectantly palm-up in her lap. Reaching to catch said hand in my own gloved hand, I gave her a brief smile before she turned back to Lord Kyassuru.
O------------------------------------------------O
Later that night, Sano-sensei paced back and forth across our quarter’s floor agitatedly. Scrutiny of the Lord Daimyo’s memories had only revealed an extremely blurry face and a smooth voice of less-than-standard cadence. The side effects from the pictures blur confirmed Sano-sensei’s suspicion: the unknown shinobi had used the Dowasure Technique, and not only that…he’d performed it perfectly. No trace of chakra had been etched within the Daimyo’s memory. However, there had been a hint of energy from the event buried deep within Lord Kyassuru’s subconscious.
Energy that had been hot and cold at the same time.
Upon this realization, Sano-sensei had dashed to the paralyzed Rae-en’s side as he lay prone outside the double doors, an iron senbon sticking from the side of his neck level with his adam’s-apple.
“You may have fooled Kyassuru-sama, but you’ll never fool us!” she spat, hefting the disguised shinobi by the collar, slamming his head unmercifully against the wall with an audible crack, her slitted eyes that dangerous hue of orange and yellow as I guarded her rear and kept Lord Kyassuru-sama from the scene, “You’re a missing-nin, if I ever had the pleasure of killing one. You know EXACTLY what happened to Chiaki-dono and where she is! The energy of the visitor that disappeared is the EXACT SAME as yours! So it’s either you, or you have an accomplice waiting in the wings.” Removing the senbon rather roughly, a spurt of blood followed as the missing-nin let out a grunt of pain. “TELL ME OR, I PROMISE, YOU’LL WISH TO KAMI YOU WERE NEVER BORN!”
“You’re so sure of yourself, Commander,” Rae-en laughed even as he coughed up his own blood. “So sure that you’ll find her. So sure that she’ll be alive when you find her. So sure that she’s still in Aishu, or even in the Land of Fields. You’re ultimate weakness, Koumori, is that you’re not sure. You won’t…”
Without missing a beat, another senbon sheathed itself in the turncoat’s gut, before he could finish the last sentence. More blood the inevitable result as my own eyes turned murderous and my grip followed his decent to the floor as Sano-sensei released him. I shoved the senbon clear through his spine and into the hardwood floors beneath him.
With nowhere to go, the pinned shinobi cried out in pain and began trying to remove the blood-drenched senbon from his compromised intestines. However, Sano-sensei quickly straddled his chest, pressing her full weight down to trap his hands. “Looks like you won’t be going back to report now, will you? And you were so sure of yourself, Rae-en,” she mocked the bleeding shinobi beneath her hardened gaze, her hands quickly forming the sign of the snake, monkey, and rat in quick repetition five times over. Grabbing the hacking shinobi’s throat, she brought his torso up in a jerk toward her, bisecting his spine with another audible snap and shoving a hand over his mouth to stifle his screech of pain.
“You had your chance!” she spewed, bringing his terrified, pained eyes even with her own, the last she spoke, tone colder than ice, “Kurome Takou No Karite!” With that, the shinobi gave one great shudder with a wounded sigh before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and went completely limp. Dead.
“Lord Kyassuru-sama said she went with a maid and two of his guards to Kunda Avenue. She gave the excuse she wanted to go buy a few new outfits…but Kunda Avenue DOESN’T HAVE ANY boutiques. The nearest boutique is ten blocks east of Kunda,” she explained, pointing to the specified areas on a map at least five years past its prime. “What Kunda Avenue DOES HAVE are restaurants here, here, and here and mostly burlesques at the other end. The streets flanking it don’t keep the best reputation, mostly trafficking areas.”
“Which begs the question: why did she even go there in the first place? What would a fourteen year old want in that part of town?” I queried, dislodging myself from my comfortable spot against the closed o furo chamber door to stop Sano-sensei’s pacing. She was already getting me dizzy before we’d even opened the premium saké Lord Kyassuru-sama had given us for exposing Rae-en for what he truly was.
“A search of her quarters didn’t turn up anything suspicious. But I got the distinct feeling that something was missing from the room the moment we walked into it… besides the girl herself. And you said you didn’t get the smell of fear or anything, because the smoke smell from the sunken charcoal heater was overpowering, which means it had been lit recently, probably within the last few hours. But there’s no excuse to light a heater at this time of the year.” A frustrated sigh left Sano-sensei as she crouched back over the map, massaging the spot between her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. “What we need is a plan. All we have is that the guards and maid said they took her to Kunda Avenue to shop for clothes, which was a lie, and a faceless shinobi posing as a daimyo,” she spoke as if talking to no one in particular, before her eyes and finger settled on another point on the map, “…But a few blocks west of Kunda is Barlo. I’ll bet the Neko could give us some clues about her whereabouts. But that street was rough even twenty years ago. It’s got nowhere to go, but on a downward spiral. …Hmm.”
“What’s the deal with Barlo, Commander?”
“Barlo Avenue, about twenty years ago, was the main route for trafficking just about anything into or out of Aishu. You name it: drugs, weapons, counterfeit, etc. It was done through a lot of the supposed professionals that had ‘true’ businesses on Barlo. Truth was the local yakuza had their fingers wrapped around Barlo so tight, the Aishu authorities had to call in ANBU soldiers as backup to take them down. We successfully took it down, but the main ringleader got away. Never did get a name for him, just a description of a ‘weird pair of eyes and a voice smoother than silk.’ Obviously, not much to go on.”
I nodded my head in understanding. “So who’s this ‘The Neko’ to you, Commander?”
“First off, it’s not a ‘who’. It’s a burlesque on the more dangerous side of Barlo. To get there without blowing our cover WIDE open is going to be a big test of your ability to improvise and act ‘in character.’ The best way I can think of to get us even half-way near Barlo, or the Neko, is to pose you as selling something. The Neko being what it is… I’ve got the perfect idea of what you can sell.”
I didn’t trust the glint in Sano-sensei’s eye as she stalked back to the doubled, turned-down futon and sat in its cozy confines. Following her steps, I slipped between the blankets right next to her, turning away from her for privacy sake as she returned the favor. “Get some sleep, Shin,” she groaned, stifling a yawn behind a muffling hand. “If you haven’t hated me before, it sure looks like you’re going to hate me tomorrow. We’re going to be paying Miru a visit sooner than I thought.”
O------------------------------------------------O
To anyone else walking the backstreets of Aishu, bustling epicenter of the Land of Fields, things were as they always had been: street vendors hawking their wares, stopping the curious passerby every-so-often to placate them with their ‘amazing deals;’ tourists stopping to ‘ooh’ and ‘ah’ every pebble they kicked up in their path; drunk and rowdy locals playing their games of Shogi and Go for the pretty waitress’ favors. It had the familiar buzz of the Aishu known decades ago for its beautiful theater district, now left to rot with the rest of the town’s forgotten history.
Its new atmosphere disgusted me as I trudged myself through the sloshed mud and displaced brick street, feeling the mud squish under my feet and letting a growl escape my throat as the putrid smell made me bare my teeth in a grimace.
A fairly impressive one by the shriek and tripping of the tethered platinum blond ahead of me. This smells rank! I thought, shaking my head and giving a great sneeze as I leveled my impatient gaze at the fallen, and now scuffed, blond. “I have no time for this! Move it!” I barked back at the fearful violet gaze that met mine. A louder growl this time sent the collared blond scurrying to her feet and right into the back of a black-clad gentleman, coincidentally holding the other end of her shackles: one at her waist, hidden beneath skimpy clothes, and the aforementioned at her collar. Rebounding off the gentleman’s back, the blonde managed to hide her dignity as she fell, falling into a perfectly precise bow, her pony-tailed hair falling over her shoulder into the mud.
“What are you doing, Yume-neechan?” came the all-too-gruff voice of the black-clad gentleman as he spun to glare with a pair of angry red eyes, a crown of spiked silver hair atop his head. “Did you just get mud on my best clothes?!”
The next growl that left my mouth had most on-lookers raising eyebrows as they turned in our direction. Surely nothing THIS interesting had happened here in a LONG time, but it was most likely not the first time most of them had witnessed a similar scene.
“Forgive me, Shin-niisan,” the blond whimpered pitifully from her face-down position in the mud, but a swift kick to her shoulder from the gentleman brought another yelp and a quick, blubbered response. “Forgive me, Shin-niisama. Yume-baka was clumsy. Yume-baka will wash them to perfection after Yume-baka makes dinner for Shin-niisama. I will scrub them until my hands bleed, if it pleases Shin-niisama.”
“Never mind! I have business to tend to. Now…” with a swift yank, the chained collar unseated the blond to land on her face, “Come! Akai, come!” A loud growl at my masquerade name caused the blond to shriek in fright again as she immediately launched to her feet, just avoiding the snap of my teeth aimed for her throat and ‘Shin-niisama’s’ back, but kept her frightened gaze on me. The hackles on the back of my neck rose as I felt several pairs of eyes follow our movements down the dirty street. I tossed my fiery gaze side-to-side, snarling unmercifully at those who dared approach too closely to my ‘master’ and his ‘sister.’
It was the perfect disguise to match the plan. Who would suspect a woman-hating asshole parading a half-naked woman on the end of a chain and his ‘protector of the goods,’ a mean-faced wolf-dog, to be the ones to stop the recent kidnappings and rescue the Land of Field Daimyo’s beloved niece?
Letting the drool over my muzzle hide the true intent, I let the corners of my mouth drift slightly upwards in self-congratulation. Phase one of the plan was complete: we’d garnered enough attention from the local male population that most of them were sure to let the gossip vine spread, until it caught up with us at our next destination. Some were following us even now; I could smell the sweat and alcohol on them as they – as I’m sure they thought – inconspicuously tailed Shin, myself, and the transformed clone from street to street.
“So where can we find the little lady later, Shin-niisama?” the jeer was called out from somewhere behind us as we rounded a corner sometime later. Turning myself around to raise every hair straight along my back and bearing canine fangs in a vicious snarl, I charged forward to snap at the nearest joker’s legs.
“HAJI, Akai!” came the reprimand as I knew it would, backing up a few paces to sit on my fur-covered haunches, hackles still raised and spittle still dripping from bared teeth. A calming hand on the flat of my head brought my gaze up to burning red eyes, a simple transformation to cover the exposed Sharingan and allow Shin the use of both eyes without tiring, with a smile in my own eyes.
Earlier that morning, I’d perused the ‘quality’ sleazy bookstores, searching for a shady role model among the thousands of Cassanovas and Paul Jeans portrayed in their limited selection. I’d finally settled for a strange mystery novel titled Icha Icha Mystery by none other than Jiraiya-sama himself, after quickly scanning the back cover. Little had I known I would be talking to nothing but thin air for the next four hours as Shin made good use of the book behind the o furo chamber door.
Actually, orgasmic use several hundred times over was probably more accurate.
He’d done famously within the realm of his chosen character so far… now came the true test of his acting abilities.
“Gentleman, if you wish to sample my wares, this bitch can be viewed for a price at the Yume No Neko in the Red Light District…” rounding his unique eyes to glare balefully at his ‘prize bitch’ over his shoulder, I watched my clone drop her eyes to hide beneath her bangs as I circled behind the couple once again to cover the rear, “starting tomorrow night. No doubt you gentlemen have heard of the legendary Hippolyta of the same burlesque?”
Several whistles and hoots came as answer causing my clone to shrivel into herself, swinging one arm to cover her peaked breasts while the other swung low to hug her hips trying to portray a quake of fear.
“We’re trying to look uncertain, not scared now,” I grumbled low under my breath so only she could hear, urging the slight change of tactics. “We want them interested in us enough not to be cowed by Shin’s performance.” A lowering of her head with a sniffle told me she heard and understood as the quaking stopped.
“This little mud-hen is dancing at the Yume No Neko?!” sneered a particularly scandalous older man, the smell of saké and gin thick on his breath as he bared yellowed teeth in a disproving grimace.
Okay. How to respond to this one?
Now that we had them, did we still need to be subtle?
A yank of the chain brought the skimpily-clad, transformed clone forward with a startled yelp. “My bitch can put Hippolyta’s career to shame,” Shin stated as his eyes softened, running a lone finger along the clone’s spine eliciting a delighted shiver. Grabbing her by the back of the neck, he brought her flush against his chest enough to have a gasp resound from the clone as she wantonly ground against his lap.
Almost got them dead to rights. Just hold it a little longer, Shin, my thoughts pleaded quietly, hoping against hope that he could hold himself in check for just a few minutes longer. I’ve already seen him passed out from NOSE-BLEEDS because of that smut book! What was I thinking giving him that?!
I shouldn’t have worried as his soft eyes turned hard again. He reached his hand around to the clone’s mound, delicately stroking the hidden nub there until a scream, like a call from a bird, escaped the clone’s mouth and she collapsed to the ground in a writhing, panting heap. Placing his boot in the clone’s shoulder blades and pulling up on the chained collar, the onlookers were treated to dazed eyes and a brightly flushed face. Most gave their own approval (whether they realized or not), the strong smell of semen assaulting my sensitive nose. “Then again,” Shin continued almost smugly, “I’d expect nothing but perfection from Hippolyta’s own flesh and blood. The Yume No Neko… if you want to see what this bitch can really do.”
“Shin-niisama?” came the whispered mutter from under the muddy boot, earning a well-placed kick to her ribs as he hollered for her to get to her feet – in not so few words. “Come, Akai!” And so we were off again with me snapping at the clone’s heels every few yards as ‘Shin-niisama’ led her by the chain.
Keeping my voice low, I leapt to Shin’s side, pretending my nose had gotten the better of me for the moment. “So much for subtle tactics. Where the hell did that come from?” my whisper edged with annoyed sarcasm, only earning a slight upturning of my apprentice’s lips. “Around the next corner on the left, we should be able to find Miru-san’s shop… if he’s not hawking in the streets like everyone else. I’ll check ahead to make sure.”
At his nod, I leapt ahead, charging around the corner, weaving desperately through soiled bodies. I may not have seen Miru-san for years, but in my memories, the smell that his body wore was unmistakable: grilled namazu and dried flowers; his favorite meal over the scent of the clothes he bartered. But halfway down the lane, the wind shifted enough for me to lose any possible trail.
This is getting me nowhere fast, I thought grudgingly, sitting back on my disguised haunches. The smell of dried flowers is everywhere now!
“Must be popular lately,” I grumbled with a half-smile, running and then leaping onto the nearby lowest roof, that of a spice dealer, just out of sight of its owner. Heads above the rushing crowd now, I spotted him – as I thought – hawking his more mediocre pieces. Stealthily returning to street level, I backtracked searching for the scent of mud and feminine fear. Hard to miss, I easily found my partner, giving a quick bark to indicate my position and turning around, looked over my shoulder to indicate they should follow.
Always one for the simpler things, we found Miru-san’s hawking stall set up right outside his shop. Nothing exquisite - made of recently-hewn green bamboo and hung above, to keep out the heat of the more repressive days, was his signature cloth design: cream pinstripes on a wine field. The rough shop door behind was firmly closed.
“To keep thieves out, while he works,” Shin noted quietly as we waited to gain Miru-san’s attention while he bartered with another customer. “No. To keep the better clothes inside from becoming musty,” the clone answered for me under her breath, shaggy bangs still concealing her violet eyes. Nodding, I gave Shin a sidelong glance, without words telling them both to resume character as I marched forward under the front edge of Miru-san’s stall just out of his immediate sight.
With an audible snarl, I grabbed hold of Miru-san’s table cover and giving one swift yank, pulled it and most of the clothes covering it down into the mud, shaking it in my clenched teeth for good measure once Miru-san’s angered gaze caught sight of me. Letting Miru-san wrench it from my clenched fangs, I bared my teeth and let out another snarl as he began berating my transformed form. “You filthly, stupid mutt! Look what you’ve done to my clothes!” Watching his club come up, a flash of black and silver filled my vision as a warning of “don’t do that” filled my ears.
Moving to Shin’s unoccupied side, I resumed my haunched seat to get a better look at my old friend. Not much had changed about Miru-san over 20 years. He’d grown fatter, but that was to be expected of a man his age; nothing of which to be ashamed. He also had about six years worth of stubble decorating his chiseled chin. But they were the same blue eyes, black hair, and happily plump face as always.
“Miiiruuu,” I whined out as clearly as I was able in my canine voice, seeing my friend’s face change from anger at Shin to surprise at me for all of about a second.
“I’ll pay for the clothes Akai ruined. I’m in need of some fresh clothes anyway,” Shin finished with a sneer over his shoulder at the platinum-blond clone, but returned a calmer gaze to Miru-san, “What do you have in black?”
As the clone dropped to begin quickly collecting the soiled clothes, Miru-san did his calculations. The grand total for the ruined clothes wasn’t much, but it was more than we had on us at the moment. …Not that we had to tell Miru-san that.
“Step inside and I’ll see what else I have for you, Sir,” Miru-san stated, lowering the flap to his stall as he carried the remaining clean clothes himself and unlocked the door to his shop, about to shut it against me before I bolted inside. With a sigh though, he reluctantly shut the door.
“Perhaps, we can find something suitable for the young lady, as well,” Miru-san continued, depositing the clean clothes on the nearest shelf. But Shin was quick to intercept, “The ‘young lady’ doesn’t need a thing. The dog might, however.”
The clone and I couldn’t hold our laughter back at the puzzled look that crossed Miru-san’s face, the clone more discreetly than I as I let my human voice float through the disguise. “It’s been a while, Miru-san. It’s Sano, but please continue to treat me as a dog,” I whispered, raising my hackles and stalking slowly forward to sit at Miru-san’s feet even as he dropped into a crouch to meet me. “I need to know what you’ve heard about the kidnappings in the last few months. Anything at this point cannot be insignificant.”
“I believe I have something in the back that would be to your liking, Sir. Please follow me,” Miru-san stated, pretending to pick up a dropped button sitting in front of me.
Once shut in Miru-san’s back room, I shook off the transformation jutsu, cracking my back before giving Miru-san the hug I wanted to give him since first spotting him. “It’s good to see you again, Sano-san. You haven’t changed at all,” Miru-san laughed, welcoming me with his cheerfully round, smiling face. Continuing with a tease, “But your clothes have seen better days.”
“It’s good to see you too, Miru-san. This is Tsukashi, code name Shin-san, one of my apprentices and my partner for this mission,” I introduced Tsukashi, letting them shake hands before continuing, “We’re back in Aishu at Lord Daimyo Setsukan Kyassuru’s request to retrieve his missing niece. Her maid and a couple bodyguards last saw her wandering through ‘the shops’ near Kunda Avenue. The Lord’s assumes she’s been kidnapped like the others have been recently. The one tip we had last time we were here has since gone cold. I need to know what you know, and as quickly as possible, before anyone catches on that I’m here in Aishu to investigate.”
“From what I’ve heard, Sano-san, there are no patterns in who they take,” Miru-san stated, grabbing Shin by the shoulder and standing him on a platform before a tri-fold of mirrors. Quickly unfurling a measuring tape from his pocket, he poked and prodded Shin for his measurements as he continued, “Young and old, tall and short, weak and strong. Until now, mostly poor, but with the Daimyo’s niece gone… The only thing that’s struck me as odd is that most of the yakuza have been fairly quiet in recent weeks. You don’t suppose the yakuza have anything to do with this, do you?”
“Kidnapping isn’t really their style. But with the Lord’s niece missing and no ransom demands yet, it might be something bigger than the yakuza,” I stated, taking a seat on the polished oak floor next to my clone for a moment. “The ultimate question is: other than the yakuza and the visiting Lords, who has the ability to take these people without others being privy? Did any of the visiting Lords bring shinobi along as bodyguards, perhaps?”
“Possibly, but I haven’t heard, Sano-san. I’ll keep my ear to the ground for you and let you know what I find,” Miru-san finished, fishing a Mandarin-collared, sleeveless, black satin shirt with red dragon accents off the shelf to match the black pants Shin wore already, handing it to him with a pudgy smile to try on. “Makes you look more the part, if you dress it. Where will you two be staying?”
“For now, Shin and the clone are staying with Lord Kyassuru-sama. I need you two to watch the maid closely. It’s only a matter of time before she slips and gives us more to go on. I’m going to scope out the Red Light District tonight, see if I can’t figure anything out. When I’m finished, I’ll return here and we’ll meet in the morning… as long as you’re okay with this, Miru-san,” I questioned, earning a smile and a wink from the hefty tailor. “That being said, old friend, I’m going to need everything I left trusted to you the last time I visited you.”
“Including your stage gear, I trust?” Miru-san queried with a cunning smirk.
Nodding my affirmation, I took Shin’s place in front of the mirror with a “but I’m not sure how they’ll fit now. It’s been at least twenty years since I last wore them,” as Miru-san hustled his way to a closet in the next room. Returning with my aforementioned ‘stage gear’ and a wooden screen, Miru-san began carefully helping me out of my preferred ANBU uniform, throwing each piece removed over the screen’s top behind me.
“Now, Sano-san, you haven’t gained anywhere, except maybe around your arms and thighs. I’m sure they’ll fit just fine, but if some letting out is needed, we’ll fix it here and now.”
Turning my body left and right to observe every angle, I caught Shin’s eyes staring heatedly at me in the reflection of the mirror. Figuring this as good a time as any to practice for the upcoming pretense, I bent over slightly, as if to study my face more closely in the mirror, hands on my thighs which effectively placed my rear outward. Catching his smoldering eyes again, I gave my patented vixen smile complete with lowered eyelids, watching his eyes mirror mine within seconds.
“Do you like what you see?” I crooned out carefully gauging his body’s reaction.
“If you think she’s hot now…” Miru-san broke the moment a little too soon for my liking.
Not much beyond the eyes, but then again my apprentice was known for hiding his emotions well, mask-covered or not.
“You called those ‘stage gear,’ Sensei?” Shin spoke up, pointing to the few pieces that Miru-san had thrown over the screen’s top on first coming back.
“That’s right,” the clone answered matter-of-factly for me, as Miru-san took my measurements with me just in my bindings and underwear. “Additional interrogation training is required for kunoichi - and some shinobi - when they first become elite. Ana-sensei and Tsuke had given me a good head start… as you can remember,” the clone bit out, leveling a ‘shut-up-or-else’ gaze at Shin before she continued, “But while they said my skills were good, they weren’t enough. To insure the true intent of our training wasn’t discovered, each elite kunoichi’s team was sent to a different burlesque house within a few hundred miles of the Village. Her teammates posed as regular customers until their training was deemed successful. They sent me to the Yume No Neko, or ‘Neko’ for short. We were there for 6 months before they told me to return home. …I first met Miru-san, after the crotch seam on one of my outfits came completely undone while I was dancing on stage.”
“Alright, let’s try this first,” Miru-san interrupted, relieving my favorite set from its hangar: a simple two-piece black leather racer top with silver grommets up the back and along the hem, and black leather boy-short bottoms with silver grommets along the waist. Relieving me quickly of my undergarments so that the outfit would lie as it should, Miru laced the pieces together with a length of red satin ribbon, looping through each set of grommets only once before tying a bow at the top of the racer top in the back. Making the sign of the ram, I gained my clone’s transformed likeness – minus the mud - down to the last white-toned hair on my head.
Turning right and left to self-evaluate once again, a slight smile tugged at my lips. Miru was right, my arms and legs that were once gangly, now reflected back toned and lean. Hearing a beat of rapid singular applause, my gaze swung to my clone’s smiling face and clapping hands…and the wide-eyed, blank stare of my apprentice.
Just how much can he take? He’s going to need more reserve, if he hopes to continue with this little charade. Giving a silent note to my clone, she carefully pulled him out of his lecherous stupor. “Shin,” she sing-songed, turning his head to herself with a single finger beneath his chin, “I’d pay attention, if I were you. This is part of your training, after all. All elite shinobi need to be able to resist temptation.” Once he’d snapped far enough out of it to have his face neutral again, I pulled out all the tricks I remembered.
Pulling the vixen grin out of reserve once again, I tilted my head back, running my hands along the underside of my ponytail which raised my bust until the areolas just became visible in the dropped boat neckline. Never turning my gaze from my own reflection, I continued on as if there wasn’t a thing wrong with the world.
Hearing the lick of suddenly dry lips, my hands retraced their path down my neck and down the front to smooth the leather that had bunched itself seemingly uncomfortably. Trailing my hands down my ribs to my stomach, I carefully plucked the strings keeping the outfit together as if deciding whether to cut them off or not, and finally deciding not to, let them float to grasp a rounded set of hips. Biting my bottom lip, and turning in every conceivable direction to get the angles, I heard the sound of an unforgettable swallow as my hands finally dropped to smooth the leather covering my ass.
“Oh, I don’t know, Miru-san,” I sighed, returning my hands to my hips and looking over my shoulder in the mirror, “It fits right. But I can feel the leather wanting to creak and crack. It was oiled every-so-often, right?”
“Are you doubting my abilities, Sano-san?” Miru-san quipped angrily for all of a moment. “Not at all, my friend,” I placated him with a wave of my hand and a sly wink, “It just looks like the oil wasn’t enough. I guess I’ll have to stretch it out some. Mind helping me for a minute?” Extending my arms in a backwards arch, Miru-san readily took my hands, helping me keep my balance as I stretched my right leg, toes pointed, toward the mirror in a graceful arched stretch, letting the leather give as it would.
The quickening of my apprentice’s breathing spurred me on, taking me back to the pulse-pounding beat of the speakers; the catcalls and whistles from my teammates and adoring fans; the smell of sweat, cigarettes, alcohol, and arousal from anyone that happened to be close enough to my pole.
I grew bolder, letting my right leg rejoin the first, arching back to murmur a quick ‘thanks’ to Miru-san who let go to watch the play of the leather as I fell into a full split, my arms catching me on either side of my left leg. Swinging my left leg back to join my right, I gracefully rose to my hands and knees swirling my hips in a rhythm known only to me and my clone as it played through my mind, closing my eyes to enjoy the familiar tune as my leather-bound chest drifted toward the floor. Reverting the swirling into a simple rocking motion, I brought my hips back beneath me as my hands came up to cup the underside of my breasts through the leather top. “You know,” I stated breathlessly as the tough fabric tightened against my arched front, “I’ve forgotten how… slick… leather can feel to the touch. I’d forgotten how much I enjoy it.” Letting the rocking of my hips continue, I felt my mouth drop open in a quiet sigh as my knees spread. Lower, lower, and lower still until the rocking of my hips against the floor brought about a muffled groan from the nearby corner.
Chuckling quietly now, I let the smile blossom fully on my lips as I flung my legs forward and, keeping my feet pointed toward the cedar ceiling, spread them to wink back at myself in the mirror. I didn’t care now about Shin’s reactions, I just wanted to see what I was still capable of. Throwing my legs higher, I arched back to let my hands catch my weight beneath me in a perfect hand-stand. Bowing my back so that my torso curved out and laying my head against my right shoulder as if snuggling into a lover’s embrace, I let my weight slowly curve my body into a delicate round, pushing up with my arms until my knees daintily touched the platform and my toes the floor. Unfortunately at this point, the song had completed itself inside my head, leaving me nothing to do but right myself.
“Not bad, but still needs some work,” I finished reviewing the outfit after the routine, now turning my full attention to my clone and twitchy apprentice as I vaulted off the raised floor in front of the mirrors to crouch in front of them.
“You’ll want to get back to Lord Kyassuru-sama to report on MOST of the new information. …At least, before you become catatonic, hmm?” A slight eye twitch as said transformed, red eyes drifted uninhibited down my form to land in the valley between my legs put my classic smile back into hiding.
“It’s very nice, Sensei,” came the strained words from my stunned apprentice’s mouth, causing me to sweat in frustration as my clone stifled an uproar behind a muddied hand. Resigning myself to a disheartened sigh, the clone took over, throwing a punch which he easily intercepted with a self-satisfied smirk as he recommenced giving me a scorching gaze while pulling the clone up by the chain around her neck.
“Due to the area from which she was taken, we feel that, if his niece was kidnapped, it was not by the local riffraff. Regardless, you’ll survey the local yakuza for anomalies tonight. Otherwise, we’re led to believe she was taken for reasons other than ransom. If that’s the case, we’ll need to deepen the investigation. We plan to meet tomorrow to discuss the yakuza surveillance. …Sound about right?” Earning my nod of approval, I continued, “Keep an eye on Abi-san’s actions for tonight. She seemed ‘twitchy’ for lack of a better word, when I mentioned the mark on her neck. See if she starts rubbing it or gets all panicky. She’s not told us everything,” as his red eyes regained the hard gaze of ‘Shin-niisama’.
“Come on, you worthless bitch,” he called half-heartedly to the tethered blond over his shoulder, “We have business to tend to before your performance tomorrow night.” Then, Miru-san saw him off, leaving me in complete confidence to fulfill my part that night.
Waiting patiently behind the back room’s closed door, it was a few hours before Miru-san had finally finished tending to his last customer for the evening and was able to return to my company. I had changed into civilian clothes and concealed my ANBU markings by then, reverting to using my more casual, normal-looking form: auburn hair and my Kami-given cinnamon eyes.
“Sorry that took so long,” Miru-san apologized, scratching the back of his head sheepishly as he hinted that I should follow him upstairs to his living quarters. “It’s understandable: you’re a businessman. It’s not a problem,” I muttered taking the stairs behind him, until my feet felt the comforting rustle of the carpet on the landing.
“So…I had a feeling there was something you suspected that you refused to say out loud, even in front of HIM.”
With a deep sigh, I leaned against the railing along the landing’s edge. “A daimyo’s niece is kidnapped and there’s no ransom. A few of his maids bear the signature of girls bought from the Underground, yet the Daimyo has no knowledge of where the marks came from. What’s even more surprising is when I confronted some of those same maids, they refused to say when, or from where, they were bought. They only said that they hadn’t met the Daimyo or Chiaki-dono until after they were purchased. My team shutdown the Underground at least two decades ago, but these girls’ marks are fairly fresh. Therefore, someone has undoubtedly set the Underground in Aishu back on its feet. And worst of all, they’ve set it to run more cleanly than the original; less trail to follow. These clues lead me to believe one of two things: 1) Someone inside the Daimyo’s circle has it out for him and is using his niece as a bargaining chip and he refuses to identify who it is, or 2) the Daimyo sold his niece to the Underground through a third party which he’s used before to buy his maids.
“This Lord’s a creature of habit, and not having many close friends anymore would make it hard to switch ‘distributors’ quickly, if at all. From what I’ve heard from my second partner, the Daimyo supposedly owes a tidy sum to a few different nations in payment for their support during the last few battles the Land of Fields was caught up in. Selling his niece would pay them off and then some. But with blood like hers in the Underground…”
I shook my head in disgust, thinking of what had happened to Kiyuri last time we attempted to penetrate the new Underground.
“If she’s still alive and sane, they’ll move her quickly to where they can get the highest bidder. Luckily, there’s something working to our favor: the nearest WORKING port is just inside the Fire Country’s borders in Naiki, and we both know that’s a long road to travel with at least ten toll passes in between.” Another sigh left me before my uncertain gaze met Miru-san’s concerned and contemplative façade, “However, I think the Underground Kiyuri and I penetrated before was a carrot-on-a-string: something to lead snoops the wrong way. I know a few of the doctors in the area have SOME hand in this. There’s a doctor’s office of some kind within a block of most of the abduction sites, if our information is correct; I just can’t put my finger on HOW they’re involved. Do they move the cargo? Do they treat them? What? …Any thoughts?”
“Hmm. Sounds to me like investigating the yakuza might be a bad lead, too. But they’re one of the better sources of supposed rumor and under-the-counter dealings, so I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you, for now. I only wish I could help you investigate the yakuza further. But they’ll know something about the Underground, I’m sure of it!”
“If you’re sure, Miru-san, then that’s all I need to know,” I stated, clapping my old friend on the shoulder as he swung the door open to let me step inside his small abode before him. “I’ve got a feeling something good’s going to happen tonight!”
- If any of you have been to the fabrics in Walmart, I’m sure some of you out there have seen the pattern described on Sano’s ‘kimono.’ I have about ten yards of it myself, and eventually I plan on doing something with it.
- 9
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- 11
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Torima's Vessel