WAP 52

If Aiko was a little bit slower, the spy would have lost her head. 

That might have been her goal, Aiko reflected, a hand around Madara’s wrist. Her body was blocking him from murder. He had moved to kill in defense of Aiko’s honor without considering any options. Cute, but hardly necessary. “Thank you, very chivalrous,” she said idly, and let go of him. He stared down at her with that terrifying intensity for a long moment, the red warsong in his eyes clearly weighing his bloodlust against his civility.

Civility won, this time.

“Of course. Priestess.” Madara bowed jerkily and stepped back. His eyes turned black again. He seemed to realize that young Narahime was watching him with wide eyes from behind Kiroyama-san. “Are you safe?” he asked her courteously. “I deeply regret that you had to see such a traumatic event.” 

‘This is how he acts around clients,’ Aiko marveled. It wasn’t- his compassion wasn’t totally a lie, but he didn’t actually care about her. If she hadn’t known him longer, Aiko would have believed it.

“I- yes.” She managed a neat bow, face flushed red. “Thank you. The priestess realized the danger moments before your arrival.”

“Yew in the tea,” Chiaki said. Her tone was bland. “What luck that none of us drank any.”

…Shut up.

Aiko twitched guiltily. Madara looked at her because he had a finely honed sense of dramatic timing, and then he looked at the five cups. He looked at the four that were untouched. He looked at the empty one. He looked back at Aiko with an expression that demanded answers. “Indeed.” He really didn’t seem amused. “What a lucky chance.”

Well, he wasn’t her kage. Aiko smiled unrepentantly. She had wanted to know, and she was hardly a medic or a chemist with a lab. “We will need to confirm it, of course,” she said. Time to torpedo this conversation. “Narahime, would anyone benefit from assassinating you?”

The girl went white. “Me?” She touched her throat.

“It could have been aimed at any of us,” Aiko lied blandly. “But you are the lady of highest rank here… and the poisoner was installed in your household.”

She was fairly certain that Narahime was the only one meant to survive, and her dislike for floral teas was exactly why it had been served with a chamomile flower floating in it. But Narahime was easy to lead to the wrong conclusion with a little bit of fear.

“I- I see,” she said, wooden. “I’m sorry, I am-”

“Please, sit,” Aiko urged her gently. “There.” She helped the teenager down to the cushion. “Madara, would you take the spy away?” she asked, as if it was a courtesy and not a subversion of Narahime’s authority. She was the highest ranked person in the household– she should be the one deciding what to do about the spy. But if she agreed-

“Of course,” he said gently. “That is…” Madara looked to the lady for a moment for her permission.

Narahime waved her hand at him. “Please,” she managed.

Mistake.

Madara hauled their assassin up with casual strength and caught her eye for a millisecond. 

The Hyuuga girl went totally limp.

‘I wonder where we’ll stash her until interrogation. Should I offer to Hiraishin her to a clan compound?’

“Senju Hashirama-san can confirm our suspicions about the tea, but is there a physician we should also consult?” Aiko asked Narahime. She stroked the teenager’s hair. The fact that the girl let her get away with it meant that Aiko was doing a better job of accruing the social trust given to a member of the clergy than she had thought. Or perhaps Narahime was just very vulnerable to kindness from adult women. Aiko idly added the possibility to a mental profile.

“I don’t know,” she said faintly. “Please- someone, please fetch Senju-sama.” Narahime glanced at the other women as if they were hers to command. “Ah-”

“I shall return shortly.” Kiroyama-san bowed deeply before slipping out. It was a good choice, less inflammatory than an Uchiha might be. Madara left on her heels with a final bow to each woman in the room and a quiet promise that all would be well.

Aiko took a deep breath and relaxed, now that they had the situation in hand. She made reassuring noises and tuned out the post-fright babbling. Yes, it had been scary. No, it wasn’t Narahime’s fault. Yes, the big strong men would take care of things. Narahime was holding Aiko’s hand when Hashirama came into the room.

She felt more than saw the amusement in his gaze at a snake like her in the role of a comforter. She would have rolled her eyes if he had said something aloud, but he didn’t dare. He took custody of the teapot and narrated what he was doing for the civilian’s benefit as he tested the liquid for poison. Through some sleight of hand he refilled Aiko’s cup so that no one would have evidence she had consumed the poison.

Yes, the whole thing was poisoned. Then the cups— yes. Every dose. 

‘That makes it less likely that Senhime is involved. You’re less likely to gamble with the lives of your direct relatives. Unless she is truly just that cold.’

Aiko let Narahime cry onto her shoulder until Senhime personally threw open the shoji, her round face white. “Narahime,” she said, her voice choked. She reached out.

The teenager wailed and stumbled to her aunt.

Aiko stood and fixed the lines of her clothes, watching the family members unite. Senhime was a proper lady with the manners of a queen, but she let her niece clutch her in mixed company. The emotional upset seemed sincere. It was always possible, but Aiko didn’t think that she would have risked Narahime’s life. 

‘So if it was another household authority, it was her husband or some steward. Are there any high level administrators outside of the two of them? Could it have been a rogue element?’

“Excuse me,” Aiko said, as mildly as possible. The Uchiha kunoichi had already made themselves scarce, slinking to the next room. “I will continue to pray for your family’s good health and fortune.” She was nearly to the door when Senhime spoke, tone inscrutable.

“Priestess.”

Her eyes were clear even through tears. 

“Yes?” Aiko asked. She turned meekly, as if she really was below the lady of the manor. It was almost funny to keep her shoulders rounded and eyes low.

“Would you join me at sunrise in my chambers?” Senhime asked.

Aiko bowed deeply. “It would be my honor,” she said, with zero clue why Senhime would request that. She didn’t let on as to any confusion as she excused herself. Hashirama left on her heels. They walked across the home in silence, only nodding at flustered courtiers and servants bustling around in wake of an assassination attempt. Senhime’s attendants were flocked in the entryway, panting in their heavy silks. 

‘Did she run across the keep when she heard Narahime was in danger?’ Aiko wondered, eyeing the court ladies. Mito and her three Senju or Uzumaki hangers-on were still in the group, the only ladies who did not have sweat on their faces. Aiko gave them all a curious glance. She still hadn’t been introduced. One of them had curly hair the same shade as Aiko’s, another had sleek pink hair in a high bun. At a guess, those two had probably come with Mito from Uzushigakure. The last lady had extremely conventional black hair in a hime haircut.

‘She looks like a plant from a civilian noble court.’

“Priestess,” Mito said, and inclined her head. Her kohl-lined eyes were inscrutable. Hashirama floated over to join her in a quiet conversation.

Aiko nodded back and left in haste. She swept across the estate and went to their assigned suite. Hopefully Madara would be there.

A Senju bodyguard was outside, his arms crossed defensively. He gave her a hard look as she passed.

Aiko snorted. Was he trying to intimidate her? She fought down a laugh as she opened the sliding door and let herself into the first large room reserved for their party.

Madara was inside, along with Izuna and the prisoner.

“A Hyuuga,” he announced with satisfaction. Aiko couldn’t help but smile back. “We were correct.” The kunoichi was still non reactive, trapped in some genjutsu haze.

“Don’t be too happy, this still means they want us dead,” Izuna muttered. He had his hand squished up to his cheek and was sprawled on his side to watch. “And this one is shorter than the Priestess, so she isn’t the lurker from last night.”

“Two poisoning attempts and a late night assassin, that’s at least two MOs,” Aiko agreed. She sat seiza and nodded at the prisoner. “Madara, would you like it if I took her to a clan compound?” 

“Yes, I’m sure her allies will try to free her,” Izuna agreed easily. “Take her to Kototaro-san, a clan elder. He has expertise that will prove beneficial.”

‘Hashirama nearly killed me the last time you assholes tricked me into excluding them. That aside, I have my pride.’

She looked at him, expression flat. Izuna smiled back at her pleasantly, for all the world with no thoughts in between his ears. It was a lie, he just didn’t care about consequences for other people. Her voice came out unamused. “I think we should wait until our Senju allies return.”

Madara snorted, amused. “How kind of you.” He smiled in a way that was both entirely cursed and boyishly mischievous. Aiko tried to tamp down any emotional reaction to it.

“I don’t suppose she has said anything?”

“No, I haven’t woken her. I wished for more controlled conditions.” Madara sniffed. “I have searched her. She had very minimal weapons, only more senbon and a thin knife. Wires in the lower hem of her clothing. Her hands reflect a life of hard work.”

“Sounds like a Hyuuga,” Aiko said wryly. She knew that would be too knowledgeable for the role she was acting, but she didn’t care. “Taijutsu specialist. Why did she attempt to poison us?”

“She may be the Hyuuga equivalent of a poisons mistress,” Izuna said. “Chiaki said that you alerted them not to drink. How did you know it was poison?”

“I didn’t,” Aiko said honestly. “I noticed she walked too quietly for a civilian girl. If her cover was a dancer instead of a maid, I wouldn’t have realized anything was wrong.”

Madara scowled. “You drank despite your suspicions?”

Aiko gave him a shitty look, eyes narrowed. “I drank because of them,” she corrected archly. “I wanted more information before I acted. I wasn’t going to kidnap a girl based on suspicious grace, and I was interested to know how desperate they are to act against us.”

Izuna snorted. It cut out the sound of strangled outrage coming from Madara. “Desperate,” he diagnosed idly. He looked at his nail beds. “Yew is an ugly way to die. Even if a normal human had consumed it, there would have been time to recognize the problem and react. That girl likely expected to die for her mission.”

“Yes, yes, that is the concept of shinobi,” Madara dismissed, rolling his eyes. Aiko buried a shrieking giggle in her hand. “There was no poison in the tea we were served. Does that mean the women are priority targets, or was it a target of opportunity?”

“They’re panicking and want to cut our numbers by any method possible.” Aiko guessed. “They expected to kill us last night. This is a fallback plan. They are scrambling now that we are alert. There may be some type of deadline.”

“A deadline implies a client, and they are acting on behalf of the former Daimyo’s family.” Madara sighed. “We had preferred to let them live…”

“And who would that be?” Aiko asked. She was unrepentant when both men gave her a look of surprise. “I left to minister and recruit priests,” she reminded them. Aiko raised an eyebrow, just daring one of them to criticize her for leaving their meetings and briefings.

“Of course.” Madara cleared his throat. “The daimyo leaves behind a widow, a 13 year old son, a younger brother, and two female cousins who are married to high ranking and influential courtiers.” He ticked them off on his fingers as he went. “The widow is pregnant as well.”

“She is in a desperate position, she has a lot of motive to secure her position,” Aiko said. “Anyone else stand out as a leader in the family or suspect?”

Izuna huffed. “The younger brother just wants to lie around and do poetry,” he said, obviously disgusted. “I think he will fall in line and support me if I promise not to have him murdered.”

“Disgraceful,” Madara agreed. He ignored the affronted look that garnered. “The younger cousin is ambitious, she is trying to drum up support to put her husband forward. They have a reasonably large samurai guard and military support.”

Izuna hummed. “Lady Tomoe and her husband, Masamune.”

Aiko paused. “Did she give herself that name at adulthood?”

Madara shot her a knowing look. “Yes, and you are correct. She is an archer.”

“Nice,” Aiko said, openly appreciative. “I want to fight them, it sounds like it would be a good narrative.”

“...They have on retainer an entire Samurai clan, the Hatake,” Madara said, clearly opting to ignore her. He didn’t notice her smile freeze. “We would have to eliminate them to remove their threat. I had preferred to outmaneuver or work with them.”

Izuna looked at her, expecting the bloodthirsty reply. He raised an eyebrow.

Aiko cleared her throat and looked away. “Maybe they’re nice,” she said vaguely. “Uh, we shouldn’t kill the Daimyo’s family. It would undermine the legitimacy of our claim.”

Both Uchiha looked at her now in identical expressions of incredulity. 

The door slid open. “Hashirama, so good to see you,” Aiko said, relieved for the first time in her life.

Stark terror and confusion washed across his face for a millisecond before he controlled himself. “I am similarly pleased to see you well,” he said. “I would like to give you a check up before we move on in conversation. Kiroyama-san informed me that you drank a full dose. She is very interested in how you managed that.” He got into her personal space when she nodded permission. A warm hand landed on her chin and slid over to examine her lymph nodes. “She hoped that it was sleight of hand, but I assume you drank it and identified the poison based on the symptoms.” 

“You’re right,” Aiko admitted, halfway enjoying the look of outrage on Madara’s face. “It can’t kill me, so it was merely… an uncomfortable way to gather information.”

Hashirama hummed noncommittally. “You don’t seem to be in distress.” He withdrew his hand. “I assume you have suggested taking our prisoner off of the premises.”

Izuna scowled behind him. 

“That’s right,” Aiko said again.

Hashirama shook his sleeves out to make the fabric fall between and then folded his arms. He looked at the unconscious kunoichi over his shoulder. “Why don’t you escort her to an interrogator and stay for a day or so?” he suggested idly. His eyes were sharper than his mild expression let on. “It would be wiser to let our observers think you are recovering in our rooms. You can take the time to visit your acolytes, perhaps pass on our well wishes to young Hana-san.”

“Hana?” Izuna snapped. “What’s wrong with Hana?”

Aiko glanced at him, a little surprised that he was so out of the loop. “She had her baby and had some odd symptoms afterward,” she explained. “A Senju medic has been staying with her.”

Izuna looked… mutinous. “That’s lovely,” he said sullenly. “Very kind.” He attempted to kill Hashirama from behind with his eyes. 

“No, no, it’s nothing,” Hashirama said blithely. He put on his idiotic smile. Flowers and sparkles all but danced in the air– were they actually? Was it a genjutsu? Aiko felt a little nauseous. “With our close relationship, it is only natural to do whatever we can to support the higher rank priestesses in Aiko-sama’s care.”

“What?” Madara said sharply. He sat up and leaned forward. “What are you talking about, fool?”

Hashirama sparkled harder. “Oh, didn’t you know?” he said cheerfully. “Four of our young people have joined her priesthood and are training. Two of them are in the main shrine on our clan compound with her acolyte Shinji-san, and two more are training with an elder priest…. Tarako-san, isn’t it?” 

Madara looked murderous. “We too can contribute,” he snapped. His hair flew around when he whipped his head to glare at Aiko. “We can match or exceed any contribution the Senju make.”

“Ah, so sweet.” Hashirama clasped his hands together as if he didn’t know how much he was pissing off the Uchiha. “But of course you’re already doing what you can– why don’t you take the prisoner to the Uchiha, so they can contribute?” The sweetness of his tone did nothing to disguise how he was tainting what would have felt like a victory a few minutes ago. What an asshole. Very impressive.

Aiko wished he was leaving her out of this, but she wasn’t ungrateful enough to avoid taking the lifeline. She wasn’t the target of this. “Yes, of course,” she said, standing up. “Ah, to the Uchiha main house?”

Madara looked furious. “Yes,” he said grimly. “Thank you so much. And I will- I will write a letter that you can take with you. Please take a moment to rest.”

“I’ll pack a change of clothes,” Aiko lied, and hastily excused herself.