At Kirigakure's gate.
The ANBU squad led by Mist Crow and Blood Hound faced Mari's four-person team. All eyes gathered on one figure.
A silver-haired girl in a hood stood with her blind cane in her right hand. Her left palm was smeared with blood. A strip of pure black cloth hid her eyes, making her delicate face look even more enigmatic.
Mist Crow's fingers blurred through a string of seals. He ended on the Ram sign and aimed his hands at Konome Taketori.
Konome's sight was gone. Blackness pressed in on every side, so she could not see what he did. But her skin told her something was wrong. A strange current of chakra was creeping in across her body, searching.
After a long moment it withdrew, empty-handed. Mist Crow lowered his hands and nodded to Blood Hound. No chakra fluctuations inside the girl.
Mari Kurio let out the breath she had been holding. Every last doubt she had harbored about the girl fell away.
"That will do."
She moved to lead Konome forward.
"Now now, Miss Kurio, no need to rush. One last check."
Mist Crow lifted a hand to stop them. His stare sharpened on the black cloth over Konome's eyes.
"Little miss, please remove your blindfold."
Konome's hand faltered.
It was almost nothing, but Mist Crow had been watching her closely. The hitch confirmed the suspicion gnawing his chest.
This blind girl was not simple.
"Haven't you already tested for chakra? Why the eyes?" Mari asked.
"Ordinarily, there would be no need."
He did not look at Mari. His gaze bored into the cloth as if he could stab straight through it.
"Such a pretty blind girl living alone in the Hidden Mist for days on end, and nothing happened to her.
"Little miss, this is not personal.
"I simply wonder when our village security became this good."
A hush fell over the line. People looked at Konome.
Silver-gray hair brushed her shoulders. Her skin was milk-pale against the black cloth. A fine, straight nose, a mouth tinted the lightest rose. For all that she was still young and had not yet grown into her features, a strange charm had already taken hold.
Even Mari's three genin wavered. Mist Crow's doubt was not groundless. They themselves had wondered.
A girl who looked like that, with no guardian, no papers, and blind on top of it, unable to run or fight. A fat prize that paraded the streets each day, and no one tried anything?
Traders flowed through the Mist, and not a few trafficked in people. None of them had an eye for her?
The heat of their attention burned Konome's cheeks. She could feel it even through the blindfold.
Now was not the time to test limits. She suppressed the prickle under her skin, passed the cane to the nearest hand. By the sound of the breathing, not Karin Kozan.
"If I am truly blind, you will let me through, yes?"
"Of course," Mist Crow said without hesitation.
The others gave tiny nods. A spy might be a child, might have no chakra, might know no ninjutsu. Only one thing was impossible. No one would send a deaf or blind agent. If she was truly without sight, that alone spoke for her identity.
Konome bowed her head. Her fingers worked at the knot. She lifted off the cloth and raised her face to them.
The onlookers seemed to forget to breathe.
Her eye sockets held two crystalline orbs.
They were not moist or living like human eyes but a flat, rock gray. There was no pupil, only an unbroken sheen like a matched pair of polished stones. Framed by her too-perfect features, she looked less like a person and more like a doll carved by a master's hand.
"Ah…"
Mist Crow had not expected that.
There was no point in further testing. Eyes that dead, duller than stone, needed no more proof.
"Will this suffice, sir?" Konome asked, tipping her face up without flinching.
"I wish you a swift recovery, little miss. Open the gate."
"Thank you."
Konome retied the blindfold.
Mist Crow flicked his hand.
The guards hauled at the mechanisms. Kirigakure's gate groaned open, coughing dust.
They had been delayed long enough that the morning fog had thinned without anyone noticing. Sunshine spilled across Konome's shoulders and cast a razor-edged shadow at her feet.
Tap tap tap.
The cane found its rhythm again. Under the ANBU's gaze, Konome and Mari's team filed through the gate.
…
Outside the village.
They followed a narrow forest path.
A bright hum of chakra relit Konome's viscera. Light seeped back into the black, and figures and trees came clear.
The sky was bright. Birds and cicadas worked the branches into a constant, cheerful clamor. The wet heat smelled clean.
Freedom, perhaps, made everything sweeter.
They had escaped the cage called Kirigakure. Even the gray of life seemed to lift a shade.
The ANBU had been thorough. Konome knew her own weak points. She had already grown a thin film of bone over each eyeball.
That cloudy sheath hid the Byakugan's pale gray iris and protected it as well. Bone raised by Shikotsumyaku could turn aside most thrown weapons. Best of all, the Byakugan could see through the film. What looked like stupidity to others was, for her, a perfect set of goggles.
Shikotsumyaku's eerie, protean flesh paired with the Byakugan's all-seeing eye. Together, she had learned to play them like an instrument.
She drew her sight back and let the Byakugan's three-hundred-sixty-degree view encircle her companions.
Arata Okamura bounced with every step, the thrill of getting out of the village still fizzing in his limbs. Sena Yamato walked with his broad scythe on his back, head bent, lost in thought. Karin Kozan supported Konome, green eyes flicking here and there.
Mari Kurio's brown hair fell against her shoulders. A line lived between her brows.
Konome bled chakra into ocular power and pushed her focus farther out.
Four figures moved along the track, their internal circuits of chakra glimmering through them.
Mari, a jōnin-level sensor, held the most, oceans of blue racing her tenketsu and veins. Sena and Karin carried about the same, a paler blue. Sena's arm muscles and bones were thicker, a clear taijutsu type.
Unexpectedly, Arata had the largest pool of the three genin, and his circulation ran fastest. His water-blue chakra felt poised to explode.
Relative measures, of course. All three genin combined barely matched Konome herself, and doubling all of them again still fell short of Mari's reserve.
Special jōnin, Konome judged, weighing Mari's chakra and physical frame. Her chakra pool was jōnin class, but her body was probably only chūnin grade in taijutsu. Ninjutsu unknown.
Even so, a straight fight with Mari would end badly nine times out of ten. If her identity were exposed, this fragile peace would rot into killing fields. Best to plan ahead.
Let it not come to that.
Konome prayed in silence.
From the moment she woke on the battlefield, her life had been a string of killings. No names, no questions. Only survival.
Now she had met Mari Kurio. The sister of her father's slayer, yes, but also the hand that had led her out of the Pit of Mist. Karin, Arata, and Sena were the first peers in this world to treat her with open warmth.
At least for this hour, she would not be the one to break it.
"Konome, let me carry you," Mari said suddenly, as if she had reached a decision. She looked back at the girl making steady time with her cane.
Konome blinked. "No need, Mari. I can walk."
"Konome, listen." Mari stopped, and the three youngsters stopped with her. "I have business of my own once we are out. At this pace, the trip to the Land of Fire will take far too long."
She met Konome's face with plain sincerity. "I know you do not like to impose. Consider it a favor to me."
There was nothing halfhearted in the offer.
"In that case, all right. Thank you, Mari. And thank you, everyone. Without you I would have no idea what to do."
All four smiled at once. "No need to be so formal."
Karin Kozan guided Konome gently onto Mari's back. Arata Okamura and Sena Yamato took her bag and cane.
"Ready?" Mari asked.
"Mm."
Konome's slim arms circled Mari's neck. Her cheek sank into Mari's shoulder. A warm, clean scent threaded through loose strands of hair.
"Then let's move."
"Yes," came four soft voices.
Mari's blue eyes narrowed to happy crescents at the weight on her back and the little voice in her ear. So soft. So sweet. Little Konome was adorable.
Heh heh heh.
A wickedly pleased laugh, like a river goddess in an old tale, rang through Mari Kurio's heart.