"People have disappeared?" Sakumo asked.
Chiyono glanced down at the mission slip before looking back at him. "Yes. This would be the sixth person this year."
Team Nine stood before the mission desk once again, waiting while she went through the available requests. Reiji kept his arms tucked into his sleeves, his attention wandering toward the piles of paperwork behind her. They had completed several missions since their first assignment, all without any particular trouble. He supposed that was something to be pleased about, though it was becoming difficult to muster much enthusiasm.
Beside him, Kushina groaned.
Reiji briefly closed his eyes.
Here we go again.
"Chiyono-san, don't you have something a little more exciting?" Kushina leaned over the desk, planting both palms against the wood. "Bandits robbing travelers? Smugglers? Rogue shinobi? Anything?"
Chiyono opened her mouth, but Kushina was already going.
"The missions you give us are always so boring! How am I supposed to become the next Hokage if we never even get to fight?" She flung a hand out, narrowly missing Reiji's shoulder. "I'll never get promoted at this rate!"
Chiyono's smile tightened.
"Sorry?"
Sakumo reached over and rested a hand on Kushina's head before she could repeat herself.
"Don't give Chiyono-san trouble, Kushina. She's only doing her job." He gave her hair a gentle pat, ignoring the offended look she turned on him. "Besides, the missions we've received have been appropriate for your level. Give her a break."
"Sakumo-san…"
Chiyono looked rather touched. Her shoulders relaxed, and the smile she gave him was considerably warmer than the one Kushina had received.
Unfortunately for her, Kushina noticed.
Reiji saw her glance between them, her indignation fading as an idea took its place. He knew that expression well enough by now to feel some interest in what came next.
"That's it!" She straightened and pointed at their teacher. "Sakumo-sensei, seduce this woman!"
Chiyono went still.
"Eh?" Sakumo looked down at Kushina, his hand lingering on her head.
"Offer to take her on a date if she gives us a better mission! Or something. I don't care, just convince her!" Kushina pointed across the desk. "Look at her corrupt eyes. She'd do it!"
"No, I would never…" Chiyono began.
"Your eyes are wavering, Chiyono-san," Hizashi observed.
Reiji studied her face and nodded. "She really is that easy."
"Sakumo." Chiyono's cheeks had gone pink. "These children are bullying me."
Their teacher chuckled and raised his free hand.
"Alright, that's enough. There will be no bribing mission staff in front of me." His eyes settled on Reiji. "And don't think I haven't noticed how eager you are to help. You'd find a way to use this against me later, you little snitch."
Reiji blinked up at him.
"I'm just worried about Rika."
"Of course you are."
Sakumo shook his head, still smiling, and turned back to the desk.
"Now, about those disappearances. Six people going missing is unfortunate, but what makes this case stand out?"
Chiyono stared at him.
"They all disappeared from the same village. Within the same year."
Sakumo waited a moment, then prompted, "And?"
Kushina slowly turned her head toward him.
"Wow. You still have a long way to go when it comes to empathy, sensei."
Reiji could hardly argue with that. He glanced at Sakumo, whose expression remained pleasantly expectant, then at Chiyono as she let out a tired sigh and straightened the mission slip.
"It happened in Kusakado Village, near the western border."
Sakumo's smile faded a little.
"The Land of Grass," he said. "You suspect activity from across the border?"
"Nothing concrete. That's part of what we need you to investigate." Chiyono placed the slip on the desk between them. "The mayor requested help finding the missing villagers, or at least discovering what happened to them. If a wild animal is responsible, then that settles it. But if another nation is operating inside our borders, we need to know."
Reiji looked down at the paper with rather more interest than before.
Chiyono's gaze passed over the three genin before returning to Sakumo.
"If you confirm the presence of enemy shinobi, you're to withdraw and report. Your assignment is to investigate, nothing more. The village will decide how to proceed once we have your findings."
Kushina's shoulders dropped slightly. Apparently, hearing that they might encounter enemy shinobi only to be told they could not fight them was almost worse than another boring mission.
Reiji understood the sentiment, though he kept it to himself.
"Kusakado…" Sakumo leaned forward to read the slip. "A little over a day to get there, if I remember correctly. Two if we take our time."
Reiji considered that. It was hardly the other side of the country, but far enough that someone could disappear long before word reached Konoha. Whatever protection the villagers expected from them, it would be of little use until somebody noticed something was wrong.
Sakumo picked up the mission slip.
"Alright. We'll take this one."
***
"Can you stop sulking?" Hizashi asked from his futon. "Watching you do this on every mission is getting tiring."
They had stopped for the night in a small village on the road to Kusakado. The inn's wooden floors creaked whenever someone passed in the corridor, and the walls did little to muffle the conversations in the neighboring rooms. A lamp burned low beside the sliding door, lighting three futons laid out with barely enough space between them for their packs. Somewhere downstairs, dishes clattered as the kitchen staff cleared away the evening meal.
Sakumo, naturally, had taken a room for himself. Apparently, being their jōnin instructor entitled him to a decent night's sleep.
"But it's always like this," Kushina complained into her pillow. "We go somewhere, nothing happens, and then we come back. I'm going crazy."
Her feet kicked behind her, making the bedding rustle. Reiji watched from his place against the wall, one arm resting over his raised knee.
"And why is that a bad thing?"
She lifted her head to glare at him. "What?"
"Nothing happening. Isn't that usually good news?" He shifted his arm against his knee. "We're shinobi, Kushina. We can run into something that kills us the moment we leave the village. What happens if we come across a rogue jōnin?"
"We have Sakumo-sensei for that."
"Sure. But he won't always be there."
Kushina hesitated before rolling onto her side, her hair spilling over the pillow. Across the room, Hizashi had turned his head slightly to listen.
"For now, we get to learn how to do our jobs with him around," Reiji continued. "Finish enough missions, show that we know what we're doing, and they'll give us harder ones. There's no need to rush into something we're not ready for."
"But—"
"Getting killed before you've had time to improve would be a pretty stupid way to end your career."
Her mouth closed. Reiji let that settle for a moment before adding, "And sulking every time you get an assignment probably won't convince anyone you're ready for more responsibility."
Kushina flushed and pulled the pillow against her chest. For a moment, he thought she would argue. Instead, she turned away, leaving him looking at the back of her head.
Reiji stayed quiet.
How much does she actually know?
He had wondered before, though he had never found a good way to ask. She complained as if a little more persistence would eventually get them the assignments she wanted. Perhaps she believed that. It would be easy enough to blame Chiyono for choosing dull missions, or Sakumo for accepting them without argument.
After all, she was the reason their missions carried so little risk.
She carried the Nine-Tails. As far as he knew, she was the only jinchūriki Konoha had, and he doubted the village intended to take chances with her. Her father had managed to secure her enough freedom to attend the Academy, become a shinobi, and even leave Konoha on missions. That did not mean everyone involved had suddenly become comfortable with the arrangement.
They could honor those concessions and still choose exactly where she went, what she did, and who accompanied her. Chiyono probably had instructions concerning their team. Sakumo would certainly know about them.
Reiji glanced toward the mission supplies piled beside their packs. Six people had disappeared near the border, with the possibility of foreign shinobi being involved, and yet this assignment had been approved. Perhaps Konoha knew more about the situation than Chiyono had told them. Someone might already have looked into it and decided the danger was manageable.
His gaze shifted to the wall separating their room from Sakumo's.
Or perhaps having him along was enough.
Reiji could hardly dismiss that possibility. He had seen his teacher move, had stood close enough to feel the difference between Sakumo joking with them and Sakumo taking something seriously. Whatever else the man might be, he was not someone Reiji would worry about protecting himself.
Protecting three genin was another matter, but the people assigning their missions presumably had a better idea of his limits.
Kushina adjusted the pillow with an irritated tug, drawing Reiji's attention back to her.
Maybe she knows.
That would explain some of the frustration. She was easy to provoke, but she was not stupid. She could have noticed the same things he had, especially when she was the one living with the consequences. Every uneventful mission might feel like another reminder that graduating had changed less than she had hoped.
He watched her fingers tighten in the pillowcase and wondered whether his little lecture had told her anything she had not already heard.
Probably not.
If he had been in her position, he doubted he would have taken it gracefully either. She had been sent away from home to live with people she barely knew, carrying something inside her that made her valuable to an entire village. Whatever problems she had with her family, being separated from them could hardly have helped. And her father had been responsible for both sending her away and sealing the Nine-Tails inside her.
Reiji lowered his eyes to his knee.
He would have had trouble forgiving that.
The family taking her in had not wanted the burden for themselves, so it had fallen to her instead. He had not thought much about what that meant when he first visited the Senju estate. Looking back, he wondered how comfortable she could really have been there, knowing why she had been brought into their home.
At least Mito would have understood. Whatever else stood between them, the old woman had known what it meant to carry that thing.
Now she was dead.
Kushina still had people around her, of course. That did not mean she could talk to them about any of this. Reiji certainly had not made himself someone she would want to confide in, and he could not imagine her readily admitting how much something hurt her. She would sooner pick a fight.
His gaze returned to the red hair spread across her pillow.
Perhaps that was part of why becoming Hokage mattered so much to her. He had mostly treated it as an irritating ambition, something she shouted whenever she wanted to prove a point. But if she reached that position, who would be left to decide which missions were safe enough for her? Who would tell her where she could go?
Even a promotion would give her something. More responsibility, more say in her own life. Proof that she could be trusted to do more than keep the Nine-Tails safely contained.
Reiji rubbed his thumb against the fabric over his knee.
That would make things difficult.
How am I supposed to make her give that up?
It was an unpleasant question to arrive at after considering all of that, but he could hardly avoid it. If she saw her ambition as a way to gain some control over her life, a few defeats would not necessarily discourage her. They might only make her more determined.
Still, he had not exactly done everything he could.
During the genin test, there had been opportunities to hurt her confidence far more than he had. The same was true of their spars. He knew how to make a defeat humiliating, how to find something a person was already insecure about and keep pressing until they could no longer brush it aside.
He had done it to others with considerably less reason.
With Kushina, though, he kept letting the moment pass. A remark left unsaid, a chance to drive the lesson home that he chose not to take. He could tell himself it was not the right time, but that excuse was becoming less convincing with every opportunity he wasted.
Reiji looked at her a moment longer, irritated by how little satisfaction the thought of doing it brought him.
Not enough to make him kind. Not enough to make him soft. Just enough to stop him from pressing down fully.
Annoying.
Reiji leaned back against the wall, the wood cool through his clothes, and wondered why he even bothered. This team was a farce, and sooner or later, it would fall apart. He knew it, Sakumo knew it, and spending a few months doing missions together would not change that. Yet here he was, holding his tongue because he knew Kushina would take what he said to heart.
What annoyed him more was that he was starting to share her impatience. He could tell her to be patient and listen to Sakumo, but he was getting tired of these missions too. He wanted something that would actually put all those months of training to use. There was only so much he could learn from beating the same people in spars, and he had not worked this hard to spend his days babysitting.
His fingers shifted against his knee. It was a little embarrassing, how often his thoughts returned to that night in the forest. He remembered how frightened he had been, how desperately he had wanted to survive, and somehow he still caught himself wanting to feel it again. To face someone who was trying just as hard to kill him as he was to kill them, knowing neither of them could afford to lose.
Even sitting here, he could remember the rush well enough to feel his stomach tighten. The adrenaline, the effort, the sheer pleasure of winning when he had so much to lose. He wanted to know what he could do now, how much further he could push himself before he found someone he could not overcome.
Reiji lowered his eyes to his hands. He probably ought to have been more troubled by that. There was something shameful about longing for a night he had barely survived, especially when he knew how easily it could have ended differently. But he missed it anyway, and sometimes he wondered whether part of him was still caught in that forest, waiting for the rest of him to return.
Kushina shifted nearby, drawing his attention. She was still sulking, and he watched her for a moment, his earlier irritation returning. If he was already impatient to move on, why did he care whether he hurt her feelings? It would have been easy to let her stay angry with him. He had certainly never had much trouble upsetting people before.
So why…?
He let his head rest against the wall. Hizashi had closed his eyes again, though Reiji doubted he was asleep. Outside, the inn creaked softly under the night wind, and somewhere beyond the paper screen a drunk traveler laughed too loudly before someone shushed him.
Reiji exhaled through his nose. He was tired, and thinking about this was only irritating him further.
It doesn't matter.
His gaze lingered on Kushina before drifting toward the dark ceiling.
I have time.
***
They reached Kusakado early the following afternoon, having kept a steady running pace since morning. When they slowed on the road into the village, Reiji stretched his legs into a longer stride, easing the stiffness that had settled into them over the last hour.
The village was larger than he had expected. A broad dirt road ran between rows of wooden buildings, its surface worn hard by wagon wheels and hooves. Stalls crowded either side beneath cloth awnings, displaying vegetables, bundled firewood, and barrels of preserved food. Beyond them, loaded carts stood outside warehouses while merchants spoke quietly beside their goods.
Several hundred people probably lived here, perhaps closer to a thousand with the surrounding farms and work camps. Six disappearances would be difficult to overlook in a place this size.
People watched them as they entered. A woman paused while weighing vegetables, her eyes dropping briefly to their forehead protectors. Two men beside a wagon stopped talking altogether. Nobody approached, and most looked away when Reiji returned their attention.
Sakumo headed toward a broad-shouldered man standing beside a cart of grain.
"Excuse me. Could you point us toward the mayor?"
The man turned, resting a rough hand against one of the sacks. His face was darkened by the sun, with deep lines around his mouth. He looked Sakumo over before examining the three genin behind him.
"What do you want with him?"
"He hired us to investigate the disappearances." Sakumo tapped his forehead protector. "We're from Konoha."
The man's gaze returned to the children.
"Konoha sends kids now?"
Reiji left that one to Sakumo. They had heard it often enough already, and explaining himself to every civilian who objected to his age was hardly how he wanted to spend the afternoon. Hizashi remained quiet beside him. Even Kushina managed to hold her tongue.
Sakumo chuckled.
"So, the mayor?"
The man huffed. "Rude bunch. He should be at the inn."
They were about to move on when he spoke again.
"Though I don't know what you need to investigate. I can tell you why people are disappearing."
Sakumo turned back to him, eyebrows lifting. "Can you?"
"Those Grass merchants." The answer came without hesitation. "They've been acting suspicious for months. Never trusted them myself. Their whole country's sold itself to the Land of Earth."
"That's quite an accusation."
"Is it?" The man shifted away from the cart to face him properly. "Everyone disappeared out west, near the border. Apart from travelers, those merchants are the only ones going back and forth through there all the time. Who else would it be?"
Reiji looked past him toward the market. There were gaps between the occupied stalls, some wide enough to fit several carts. A few wooden frames stood bare, their awnings rolled up and tied in place. He had assumed their owners had packed away early, but there were rather a lot of them.
"Haven't they been trading here for years?" he asked. "You must know some of them."
The man looked down at him.
"Times change, kid. Someone you've known for years can turn into a stranger when things get hard."
Reiji held his gaze briefly. There seemed little point in asking how, exactly, the merchants had been acting suspicious.
"Thank you," Sakumo said. "We'll speak to the mayor."
The man grunted and turned back to his grain. They continued along the road, passing stalls where people found reasons to watch them without quite meeting their eyes.
Kushina glanced over her shoulder once they were out of earshot.
"What do you think, sensei? Could he be right?"
"Could be." Sakumo walked with his hands in his pockets, apparently untroubled by the attention. "We've only heard from one man. Let's see what everyone else has to say."
The inn stood a little farther down the road, its wide entrance opening onto a common room built to accommodate considerably more people than it currently held. Reiji caught the smell of cooked rice as they stepped inside, along with old smoke and alcohol worked into the wood.
Only one customer sat at the counter. He was speaking quietly to the innkeeper over a cup of sake, his broad shoulders slumped beneath his clothes. His greying hair was tied back, and when he turned at their approach, Reiji noticed the tired creases beneath his eyes.
"Are you Tachibana Genzaemon?" Sakumo asked.
The man looked surprised. Then he noticed their forehead protectors and stood so quickly that his stool scraped across the floor.
"Ah, Konoha!" He bowed, nearly catching his sleeve on his cup. "You're quick. It hasn't even been five days since I sent the request."
"We try to be. You're the mayor?"
"Yes, that's me." Genzaemon looked between them, relief loosening his expression. "Thank you for coming. Truly, I—"
"When did the disappearances begin?"
The mayor paused. His hand settled against the counter, and after a moment, he lowered himself onto the stool again.
"About seven months ago. Arai Kenta was the first. He went out to gather herbs west of the village and never returned. We searched for him, but nobody found anything."
"Had anything happened before he disappeared? An argument, trouble with debts? Anyone he might have offended?"
"No, nothing like that. Kenta was a quiet man. Helped his neighbors, kept to himself. He never caused trouble." Genzaemon shook his head. "People know each other here. We would have heard if something was wrong."
Reiji watched him. He sounded certain, though that did not necessarily mean much. Knowing your neighbors' business and being willing to discuss it with outsiders were different things.
"And the others?" Sakumo asked.
"The western roads and the border woods, yes."
He began listing them. A charcoal burner checking his kiln, a woman taking food to her husband at a lumber camp, a warehouse boy accompanying a wagon. Then a hunter, two months ago. Different errands, with nothing obviously connecting them beyond where they had gone.
"And the most recent?"
"Morino Hanae. The herbalist's daughter." His mouth tightened. "She isn't sixteen yet."
Kushina went still beside Reiji. Hizashi watched the mayor without speaking.
"When did she disappear?" Sakumo asked.
"Six days ago. She went to gather plants near the western forest, where Kenta used to go. When she wasn't back by nightfall, her father came looking for help. I sent your village a request the next morning."
Sakumo leaned against the counter.
"Why didn't you contact us earlier?"
Genzaemon hesitated, his fingers drawing together against his knee. Reiji could not tell whether he was ashamed of the answer or simply choosing how to phrase it.
"At first, we weren't sure there was anything to investigate. People leave places like Kusakado. They cross into Grass, or head east to find work somewhere safer. Sometimes they don't tell anyone they're going."
"Was that likely with Kenta?"
"We didn't know. It was possible. Or he might have wandered too far into the woods and had an accident. There are animals out there." The mayor's shoulders sagged. "Then another disappeared, and people started worrying. But we still had nothing to show that the two were connected."
"And after that?" Hizashi asked.
Genzaemon glanced at him before looking back down.
"It became harder to explain. These were people with families, steady work. They left their belongings behind. Clothes, tools, money. Things they would have taken if they meant to leave."
"But you still waited."
Hizashi's tone remained polite. It did little to soften the question.
"Yes," Genzaemon admitted.
Reiji glanced at his teammate, then back at the mayor as the man dragged a hand over his face.
"By then, people were blaming the Grass merchants. It got worse with every disappearance, until they drove them out of the market altogether. You probably saw the empty stalls on your way here."
That explained the gaps.
"Now nobody wants to trade with them," Genzaemon continued. "Our own people won't use the border roads, and caravans have started taking other routes. Food is getting more expensive, the warehouses are half-empty…" He gestured helplessly toward the door. "Kusakado depends on that trade. If this goes on, I don't know how we'll make it through the year."
"Is there anything connecting the merchants to the disappearances?" Hizashi asked. "Besides where they happened?"
"There are a few things." Genzaemon straightened slightly, though he sounded less certain now. "The missing people were all near routes their caravans use. On two occasions, merchants left earlier than they had planned, shortly after someone disappeared. And Hanae was seen speaking to one of them two days before she went missing."
Kushina frowned.
"That doesn't prove they did anything."
"No. It doesn't." Genzaemon looked at her wearily. "But people are frightened. After a while, having someone to blame matters more than being sure."
Reiji considered him for a moment.
"So you don't think it's them."
The mayor seemed surprised by the observation. He shook his head.
"No. Not really."
"But everyone outside seems to," Kushina said.
"I know these merchants. Some have been coming here for years. Their families depend on being able to trade with us." Genzaemon rested his forearm on the counter. "Why would they risk that? If they were caught kidnapping our people, they wouldn't just lose customers. Nobody would let them into the village again."
"People sell for quite a lot these days," Reiji pointed out. "They might make more that way."
Kushina turned toward him, her expression tightening. Across from her, Hizashi's eyes settled on the mayor.
Genzaemon stared at Reiji for a moment before looking down at his cup. He did not seem particularly surprised by the suggestion. Perhaps it had already occurred to him.
"Perhaps," he said at last. "Find the right buyer, and I suppose a person could be worth several wagonloads of grain."
His mouth twisted as he said it.
"But you can keep selling grain. Year after year, if people trust you. Throwing that away for a few quick payments would be foolish."
Reiji said nothing. It was a reasonable argument, provided the merchants intended to keep trading here in the first place.
The mayor met his eyes. He looked tired, worried, and uncomfortable discussing the price of his missing villagers. Reiji could believe all of that was real. He could also imagine a man in his position learning to look exactly as people expected him to.
Nothing he had said was enough to decide either way.
"Where can we find Hanae's father?" Sakumo asked.
Genzaemon turned toward him at once.
"At his shop, most likely. It isn't far." He stood and reached for his coat. "I'll take you."
They followed him outside, leaving the quiet common room for the dust and muted conversation of the street. Genzaemon had barely begun leading them toward the herbalist's house when the road ahead grew crowded.
Reiji heard the soldiers before he saw them clearly. Boots struck the packed road in an uneven rhythm, accompanied by the clink of armor and the occasional order to keep moving. Ahead of them, villagers hurried to clear the street. A merchant pulled a basket out of the way, abandoning whatever he had been saying to his customer.
A man on horseback led the column, his lacquered armor worn over fine clothes and his helmet tucked beneath one arm. He watched the villagers move aside with little apparent interest. Behind him came roughly two dozen soldiers, a noble family's crest marking their equipment.
Between them stumbled a group of prisoners.
Ropes bound their wrists and linked them together at the waist, leaving little room for anyone to fall behind. Some wore plain work clothes, others the dusty layers of people accustomed to traveling. Reiji noticed a split lip, a swollen cheek, dirt ground into the knees of a woman struggling to keep pace. None looked particularly dangerous, though appearances alone meant little.
Genzaemon stopped so abruptly that Kushina nearly walked into his back.
"My lord!" He hurried forward, bowing as the rider drew closer. "Have you caught the people responsible?"
The man pulled on the reins. His horse stopped with a snort, shifting beneath him while he looked down at the mayor.
"The culprits have been apprehended. They will be judged for their crimes shortly." He adjusted the helmet beneath his arm. "Your people can stop worrying."
"We didn't do anything!"
A prisoner strained toward them, pulling the rope tight against the waist of the man behind him. Others joined in before the soldiers could silence him.
"We're innocent!"
"Please, listen!"
Several tried to move out of the line at once. One caught his foot against another prisoner's heel and fell to his knees, dragging the woman beside him down. Before he could recover, a soldier drove the butt of his spear into his ribs. The man folded over with a choked cry.
The woman tried to rise, only to stop with a spearpoint held beneath her chin.
Beside Reiji, Kushina drew in a sharp breath. Hizashi's eyes narrowed as he followed the soldier's movements. Sakumo stood where he was, still wearing the same mild smile.
Genzaemon swallowed.
"That is… excellent news, my lord. But are you certain? I recognize some of these people. They're Grass merchants, but they've traded here for years. Surely—"
"Are you suggesting we failed to investigate properly?"
"No, of course not." The mayor shook his head quickly, a nervous laugh escaping him. "I wouldn't presume to. It's only that people will have questions, and I hoped—"
"They have their answer."
The rider looked past him. His gaze settled on Sakumo's forehead protector, then passed over the three genin.
"Why are there shinobi here?"
"I requested help from Konoha, my lord. Before your men arrived."
Sakumo raised a hand in greeting. The man did not return it.
"Then your services are no longer required," he told him. "The matter has been resolved."
"That's good to hear," Sakumo said.
Some of the tension left Genzaemon's shoulders.
"Though we've already been paid to investigate," Sakumo continued. "We'll still need to do that before we leave."
Reiji felt the corner of his mouth lift as the mayor's relief disappeared.
The rider stared at Sakumo.
"I just told you the matter is resolved." His fingers tightened around the reins. "I represent the Mizuchi family. Are you intending to interfere in noble affairs?"
"Of course not. We'll conduct our investigation and be on our way." Sakumo's voice remained pleasant. "There's no need to worry."
For a few moments, neither spoke. Reiji watched the rider wait for something more—an apology, perhaps, or an agreement to leave. Sakumo offered neither.
The horse shifted a hoof, stirring the dust beneath it.
At last, the man scoffed and gathered his reins.
"Move."
As he urged his horse past them, he glanced down at Reiji. There was enough contempt in the look to make Reiji wonder what, exactly, the man thought he could do if someone refused to step aside.
He smiled up at him.
The rider's mouth tightened, but he faced forward again without speaking.
For people this weak, they're certainly confident.
The soldiers followed, pulling the prisoners along. The man who had been struck struggled to straighten, one arm pressed awkwardly against his ribs. A woman looked toward Genzaemon as she passed, her eyes searching his face, but the mayor lowered his gaze. Farther back, another prisoner tried to stop long enough to speak to them and received a shove between the shoulders for his trouble.
Reiji moved closer to the edge of the road, letting them pass.
He had little objection to arrogance when someone could justify it. Sakumo could afford to be arrogant. So could Danzō and his grandfather. He had seen enough of them to understand why other people were careful in their presence.
But this man was relying on a name.
There had been nothing about him to suggest he knew how to use chakra, and his soldiers seemed no more capable. Give ordinary men armor, spears, and a noble's permission, and apparently they could drag people through the street while everyone watched in silence. Even the mayor had barely managed a question before stumbling over himself to apologize.
It irritated Reiji more than it should have. The man had spoken to Sakumo as if he could order him about, apparently without the slightest understanding of how little that armor would help him if their teacher took offense.
Someone who can't even use chakra shouldn't have this much power.
"Those poor people…"
Kushina was watching the prisoners, her earlier shock giving way to a troubled frown.
"They could be the kidnappers," Reiji said.
She turned to him. "You actually believe that?"
He shrugged.
"Why not? It would make things simpler, wouldn't it?" He looked toward Sakumo. "Right, sensei?"
Sakumo rubbed his chin, appearing to give the matter some thought.
"True. It would certainly save us trouble with the report."
Kushina stared at him, then back at Reiji.
"You can't be serious."
Their teacher let her look at him for another moment before chuckling and reaching over to ruffle her hair.
"We're kidding, Kushina-chan."
"Stop that!" She ducked away, batting at his wrist. "And don't mess up my hair!"
Sakumo withdrew his hand without appearing particularly repentant. Reiji glanced down the road, where the last of the soldiers were passing between the stalls. Dust hung around their boots, partly obscuring the ropes strung between the prisoners.
When he looked back, Genzaemon was watching them with an expression of uncertainty.
"So," Sakumo said. "Hanae's father?"
The mayor blinked.
"Ah. Yes, of course." He cleared his throat and gestured toward a side street. "This way."
The shop stood on a narrow side street, its shutters closed despite the afternoon light. Above the entrance, a faded sign bore the image of a mortar and pestle. Bundles of dried herbs hung beneath the awning, their brittle leaves stirring whenever the wind reached them.
Genzaemon knocked and waited. When nobody answered, he pressed his lips together and struck the door harder.
"Shigeru! Open up! The shinobi are here. They've come from Konoha to find Hanae!"
Reiji heard movement inside, followed by slow footsteps dragging across the floorboards. The latch scraped, and the door opened a hand's width.
The man peering through the gap looked as though he had barely slept. He was probably in his late thirties, though the hollows beneath his eyes made him seem older. An uneven beard covered his jaw, and his clothes were creased from wear. His gaze passed over the mayor without much interest before catching on Sakumo's forehead protector.
He opened the door a little farther.
"You're from Konoha?" His voice was hoarse. "You can help?"
"That's why we're here," Sakumo said. "May we come in?"
"Yes. Of course." Shigeru stepped back hastily, almost catching his heel against the threshold.
"We'll need to look at your daughter's room as well."
"Her room?"
"Let them work, Shigeru," Genzaemon said. "They know what they're doing."
The man glanced toward the back of the shop, then nodded.
"Right. This way."
Inside, narrow strips of sunlight fell through the shutters onto shelves crowded with jars and clay pots. Paper packets were stacked behind the counter, alongside bundles of roots tied with string. The smell of dried herbs lingered in the close air, mixed with dust and something sour from farther inside the house.
Reiji looked around as they followed Shigeru. The stock seemed orderly enough, and nothing had been knocked over or broken. There was no obvious sign of a struggle, only the small signs of work left unattended.
A narrow hallway led to Hanae's room. Her futon had been folded against the wall, leaving most of the floor clear. A low desk held brushes and paper, with pressed flowers tucked between the pages of an open book. Beside it stood a wooden clothes chest.
Reiji crouched and lifted the lid.
Shigeru stopped behind him, but Reiji ignored his discomfort and checked the contents. He raised a folded garment, looked beneath it, then worked his way through the remaining clothes. There were no obvious gaps, though without knowing what she owned, he could hardly be certain anything was missing.
If she had left willingly, she did not seem to have packed much.
He replaced the clothes and lowered the lid. Sakumo glanced toward him before addressing Shigeru.
"Do you have anything she wore recently that hasn't been washed?"
The man blinked. "Something she wore?"
"A shirt or a pair of socks. Anything that would still carry her scent." Sakumo paused. "Undergarments would work too, if that's all you have."
Shigeru stared at him. Beside the doorway, Genzaemon looked as though he was beginning to regret his earlier assurance.
"You want her—"
"Just get him something if you want us to find her," Reiji interrupted.
Kushina shot him a disapproving look. He was not sure whether it was for his tone or the interruption, and did not particularly care. Sakumo had already explained what he needed.
Shigeru looked between them, his mouth working briefly before he nodded and hurried into the hallway. Reiji heard a drawer open, then the rustle of clothes being moved. Nobody spoke while they waited.
When the man returned, he carried a folded garment in both hands. His fingers tightened around it before he held it out to Sakumo.
"She wore this the day before she disappeared," he said. "I hadn't washed it yet."
Sakumo accepted it carefully.
"Thank you."
Then he turned and walked out of the room.
Shigeru remained beside the desk, his hands still half-raised. He looked toward Genzaemon, who glanced after Sakumo as though waiting for an explanation.
None came.
"So what now, sensei?" Kushina asked.
They had reached the western edge of the village, where the road narrowed before bending into the woods. Reiji studied the ground ahead. Wagon wheels had worn shallow ruts into the dirt, and footprints overlapped along either side, too numerous to separate at a glance. Whatever Hanae had left behind six days ago would hardly be easy to find.
Sakumo crouched without answering and bit his thumb. Blood welled beneath his teeth before he pressed his palm against the road.
"Kuchiyose no Jutsu."
Black markings spread across the dirt, followed by a burst of smoke. Reiji narrowed his eyes as it rolled toward them, his hand shifting instinctively toward his pouch.
A large white wolf emerged from the thinning cloud.
Even with Sakumo standing again, her head reached almost to his chest. Thick fur covered her shoulders, and her claws scraped lightly against the road as she adjusted her footing. She glanced around with clear blue eyes before fixing their teacher with an irritated look.
"What do you want, Sakumo?"
"So cute!"
Kushina stepped forward, hands already lifting toward the wolf's fur. A low growl stopped her before she got close enough to touch it. The wolf drew back her lips, displaying teeth long enough to make even Kushina reconsider.
She raised her palms and took a small step back.
"…Alright. No touching."
Hizashi was watching with considerably more interest than he usually showed.
"Is she your summon, sensei?"
"One of them." Sakumo turned to the wolf with an apologetic smile. "Sorry to bother you, Fuyu. I need your help finding someone."
Fuyu huffed and looked over his students. Her gaze passed over Kushina and Hizashi before stopping on Reiji.
Her ears angled back.
"You."
Reiji blinked at her.
"Don't think I've forgotten, brat." Her fur rose slightly along her shoulders. "You're lucky I was told to protect you during that test."
Kushina turned toward him. Hizashi followed a moment later.
"Oh, how frightening," Reiji said.
Fuyu's growl deepened, and Sakumo sighed.
"Please don't fight with my student."
"He started it."
"You were stalking me."
Kushina looked between them. "What did you do?"
"As lovely as it is to see you getting along," Sakumo interrupted, "we do have work to do."
He held out Hanae's clothing. Fuyu gave Reiji one last look before lowering her muzzle to the fabric. Her nostrils moved as she sniffed along its folds, taking her time while Sakumo held it steady.
Then she turned toward the forest.
Reiji watched her test the air, ears shifting toward the road ahead. She walked a few paces with her nose lowered, paused, and set off at a run.
"Follow me."
Sakumo moved at once. Reiji pushed chakra into his legs and followed with the others, leaving the open road as Fuyu slipped between the trees.
For something so large, she moved through the undergrowth with little difficulty. Her shoulders passed beneath low branches, paws finding space between exposed roots without breaking stride. Reiji took to the branches above her, keeping her pale coat in view as he landed and pushed off again. Leaves brushed his sleeves, and the damp bark gave slightly beneath his sandals.
When Fuyu slowed, Sakumo raised a hand.
Reiji caught himself on a broad branch, then dropped to the ground. He bent his knees to absorb the landing and straightened as Hizashi touched down nearby.
The wolf was nosing through a patch of flattened grass. She moved a little farther, circled back, and sniffed again, her muzzle almost touching the soil.
Reiji looked over the ground. Damp leaves, a few broken stems, patches of bare earth. Nothing he could confidently connect to Hanae after so many days.
Sakumo crouched beside Fuyu.
"What is it?"
"There's another scent with hers."
Kushina stepped closer. "Someone was with her?"
"Possibly. Someone could also have crossed her path." Sakumo looked toward the ground Fuyu had examined. "Can you follow it?"
The wolf raised her head and pointed her muzzle between the trees.
"That way."
Reiji followed the direction she indicated. Beside him, Kushina glanced at Hizashi, who had turned to look as well. Sakumo hummed quietly.
The trail was heading east.
Away from the Grass border, and farther into the Land of Fire.
How long have we been running?
Reiji landed on a damp branch and pushed off, clearing a tangle of undergrowth before catching the next tree. The muscles in his legs were beginning to feel the hours of travel, and Fuyu showed no sign of stopping.
They had crossed wooded hills, descended into shallow valleys, and passed through stretches of thinner forest where they had been forced back onto the ground. Whenever the trees grew dense enough, Reiji returned to the branches. Fuyu kept moving below, occasionally lowering her head to check the trail before continuing.
At first, he had expected her to turn toward Kusakado. Perhaps Hanae had taken another road, or whoever accompanied her had doubled back.
By now, they had gone far beyond any reasonable detour.
The sound of running water grew louder ahead. Fuyu reached the riverbank and bounded out across the surface, white fur bright against the darker water.
Reiji followed, adjusting the chakra beneath his soles as he landed. The current pulled at his footing for an instant before he steadied it and lengthened his stride.
"Sensei."
Sakumo ran a few paces ahead, crossing as easily as he had traveled over the forest floor.
"Yes?"
"I think we can assume whoever took Hanae is a shinobi."
They had covered too much ground, and this was hardly the first river they had crossed. Reiji glanced toward the opposite bank, where Fuyu was already climbing onto dry land.
"Most likely," Sakumo agreed.
"What do we do when we catch up?"
Their teacher looked back at them.
"We assess the situation first. Nobody acts without my permission. Understood?"
Kushina parted her lips, then seemed to think better of whatever she had intended to say.
"Understood," Hizashi answered and Kushina did the same.
Reiji raised an eyebrow. So they were continuing, even with a shinobi likely involved? He glanced at Kushina, then back at their teacher. They had been told to withdraw if they found enemy shinobi. Granted, they had yet to confirm that, but he had expected Sakumo to be more cautious with her here.
He watched his teacher turn toward the opposite bank, apparently comfortable with the decision. Perhaps Sakumo simply trusted himself to handle whatever they found. Reiji's eyes narrowed slightly.
Or does he already know what's going on?
They reached the bank and followed Fuyu into the trees.
By the time the forest began to thin again, Reiji had stopped expecting the next stretch to be the last. Moss and loose leaves gave way to firmer ground beneath his feet, and the gaps between the trunks widened until he could see a road ahead.
Fuyu slowed as she reached it.
Reiji stepped out after her, looking from the wagon ruts to the buildings in the distance.
A city.
Tiled rooftops stretched well beyond the houses lining the approach. Stone walls enclosed larger properties, merchant banners hung above the road, and smoke rose from workshops farther inside. Even from here, he could hear wagon wheels rattling beneath the calls of merchants and the steady noise of people going about their day.
Fuyu followed the road toward the entrance, then stopped. She sniffed the dirt, moved several paces to one side, and tried again.
Reiji watched her ears draw back.
"I've lost it," she said.
Sakumo stopped beside her. "Here?"
"Too many people." She lifted her muzzle toward the street and breathed in once more before giving an irritated huff. "The scents overlap. I can't pick hers out anymore."
Reiji looked past her.
A wagon was making its way through the entrance, forcing a group of travelers to move aside. Beyond it, workers carried bundles between shops while customers crowded beneath the awnings. He could see guards, merchants, porters, and more streets branching away between buildings.
They had followed a single trail for hours, and it had brought them to this.
He exhaled.
Great. A needle in a haystack.