WAP 58

Chiaki promised to pass on Aiko’s request to see Senhime before she left back to whatever task she had been assigned. It was a good failsafe but Aiko also felt fairly confident about finagling an invitation via Narahime. It was nearly time for the noon meal, after which she would be expected to leave with the teenager. So Aiko hurried back to her room to change her clothes. She had started the day off in the plain and practical version of miko hakama and this social situation called for greater care.

She didn’t know what she wanted to learn from Narahime anymore. It seemed less likely now that the real Minister Tani wanted to eliminate Narahime. An imposter might, Aiko supposed. But it was more likely that the girl was unimportant.

That didn’t mean she had no information. A guileless child around powerful people? That was the jackpot for information gathering.

‘I don’t know what to believe anymore. Senhime might be lying to me. I think she told the truth about her husband being odd, but she might have been manipulating me. And I don’t know who hired or invited the Hyuuga. Either they accomplished their goal or they are quitting the contract. Either way is very odd.’

She dug through her wardrobe, searching for the clothes to hit the right balance. She needed to look like a high class woman that Narahime would relate to, and she also needed to hold visible reminders of her religious status to access that social trust. Aiko redid her hair quickly, brushing it out with oil to hang loosely. It was highly impractical, and that was sort of the point. She put in just enough of a style to support the weight of an ornamental pin and then used a brass mirror to put red paint near her eyes. Then she redressed and went to the dining room.

It was already beginning to fill with people. Aiko sat and made polite conversation with some samurai class woman about the weather. 

The room rustled to attention when the important people entered. Senhime had the highest place for the meal, where her husband normally sat. Mito and her hangers-on were nearby.

None of the men were back. That figured. 

‘They’re probably in the forest trying to get a literature recitation and kill one sad animal,’ Aiko thought dryly. ‘Men are so boring.’

She was very glad it wasn’t her out there. When the meal was served, Aiko analyzed each dish curiously to see if it was obvious that the castle was severely shorthanded. 

‘They did a really good job. I wouldn’t have realized anything was amiss if I hadn’t realized there were people missing.’ Aiko ate delicately, eyes picking out faces around the room to try to catch frowns or whispers. There was nothing. 

‘At a guess, none of these people pay attention to the servants.’

That was pretty embarrassing, she thought. Aiko had only been there for a few days but she noticed that the people bringing out food weren’t the usual team. None of the civilians seemed to notice.

Mortifying. 

She kept her scorn off of her face. 

Interestingly, Narahime never came to the meal. Did she take it in her rooms?

‘She might not be eating well,’ Aiko thought, stirring her miso before she took a sip. ‘She nearly drank poison yesterday. She probably doesn’t feel safe.’

An attendant fetched Aiko when the meal was over, ushering her to Narahime’s rooms. The girl was wan and pale. Her dark undereye circles had makeup on them but it didn’t fool Aiko in the least.

Aiko twitched her face into an expression of sympathy. “Narahime,” she greeted quietly. She took a seat. “It must have been a very difficult day.” She looked imploringly into the girl’s eyes and took her hands. “I will continue to pray for your welfare.”

Narahime sniffled. “It has been hard,” she acknowledged. Her eyes were red. “I- I was able to spend most of the day with my dear aunt. She makes me feel very safe.” 

What a perfect opening. “You seem close,” Aiko said. “You are lucky to have each other.” She withdrew her hands to her lap, careful not to overplay her role.

The bells in Narahime’s hair chimed when she nodded. “Yes, she has been like a mother to me.” She sniffled again. “I- She is raising me as her heir. I have nothing but gratitude and respect for her.”

Aiko let her eyes soften in reaction to this touching statement.

‘Narahime is Senhime’s heir? But if Senhime is pregnant, that can’t be true.’

“That’s wonderful,” she said warmly. “Are you often together?”

The only conclusion was that Senhime had lied to one of them, and it seemed a lot more likely that a noble would lie to an outsider than to her family.

Narahime nodded again. “I have slept in her chambers every night since I joined her household,” she said, a childish boast. “She is my primary teacher. She says that one day this estate will be mine alone.”

Every night? If Narahime wasn’t exaggerating, Senhime would probably find it difficult to engage in activities that would lead to pregnancy.

Aiko weighed it. Who was the liar? Was a child boasting untruth, or was a noble lady lying to gain sympathy?

…It wasn’t that hard to fake a belly bump in full clothes. Senhime had even said that her husband avoided her.

‘She might have thought it would make me more sympathetic to her situation. Unless Senhime got pregnant accidentally…? But if she was pregnant, surely Narahime would know, and would feel her place was threatened.’

What was with this place? Everyone was odd and a liar or an imposter. Except for the gullible child currently spilling far too much information to Aiko.

Aiko didn’t want to raise suspicions, so she redirected the conversation away to the activity they were meant to be doing. Narahime had invited her to do poetry.

‘Hardly my favorite thing to be doing,’ she thought dryly. But it was a part of the infiltration training, kunoichi training, and cultural education in the Academy so she did have years of education in classic literary arts. 

Narahime started, voice strong as she recited a haiku about a koi nobori banner in the wind.

Aiko clapped politely in reception and then thought theatrically about her response, a finger on her cheek. Narahime giggled. 

Hmm. Her options were banners, wind, and koi. 

Aiko took wind as her subject and managed a poem about a leaf falling into a pond.

Narahime thought for minutes and then came out with an uncertain poem on that leaf sinking to the bottom and being eaten by a fish.

Aiko paused. That wasn’t a haiku. It was 5, 7, and then 6 syllables. She eyed Narahime with polite skepticism.

‘She failed. Is it a joke? A noble girl her age should have a lot of practice at this game.’

She weighed it for a few seconds. Should she correct Narahime? She didn’t care much one way or the other, but Narahime would get laughed at if she made that kind of gaffe in a court salon.

‘Why can’t she do that? Is Senhime neglecting her education? It would be hard to manage her education by herself, and if she isn’t allowing anyone to come here… Hm. I don’t know that Narahime could possibly be getting an adequate education for her station.’

Something in her face must have made the teenager recount. “Oh, I used too many syllables,” she said, crestfallen. “I lose.” She shook the thought off. “May I try again?”

“Yes, of course.” Aiko settled back in to listen politely. 

It took a while, but Narahime managed to fix her poem by eliminating the sinking verb. She added in a color description instead to get the correct number of syllables.

They managed to finish 5 rounds, and then Narahime called for an attendant to bring her cards. “I have tanka cards,” Narahime bragged. Her eyes sparkled. She took the active half of the cards and began to spread them out.

‘Oh, joy.’ 

Aiko said, “How lovely!” and leaned forward to help.

‘Karuta? I’m playing a speed card-slapping game with a civilian child? Do I let her win? How many cards do I let her get?’

Ugh. How tedious. 

Narahime’s attendant read the first half of a tanka poem. Aiko waited a moment before she started searching for the matching poem- end, letting her eyes blur. Then she focused. “There!” She slapped the card.

Narahime laughed in delight. “You’re so fast!” She inhaled deeply and settled her posture to be more aggressive. “I shall get the next one!”

Well, that was a good cue. Aiko put her claimed card by her side and managed to convincingly fake not seeing the next card for a while. 

‘I’m not going to let her win,’ Aiko decided. ‘I’ll beat her by a small margin, so that she doesn’t feel embarrassed but she also doesn’t think we are on the same level.’

She managed the game carefully, letting Narahime get a point every two or three rounds. It was convincing enough that they ended the game cheerfully. 

“You are very educated,” Narahime said admiringly. “I have been reading the poems this morning to prepare.”

…Oh, no.

‘There are people who do this game as a sport,’ Aiko thought, unimpressed by how easily impressed this girl was. What was Senhime doing?

“No, no,” she demurred. She shuffled the cards back together and gave them to the attendant. Aiko cast about for something else to do. She was morbidly curious about what this girl could do well, so she suggested that they paint.

Narahime clapped her hands. “Yes!” She turned to her attendant. “The south pavilion, please.” She lifted her robes as she stood, careful to avoid tripping on the long and heavy fabric. “Please, follow me.”

They traipsed across the building at a slow pace, while Narahime’s staff no doubt scrambled and panicked to gather paints and paper and beat them to wherever they were going.

Their destination was a wooden veranda that overlooked a private section of garden. As she approached Aiko saw art supplies. …That meant the staff had succeeded, which was honestly so much more impressive than anything else Aiko had seen today. She gave a nod to the attendant. It was ignored. Narahime took it in stride, because she really was a child.

Painting was fine. Aiko and Narahime were more matched at that, which was nothing to sniff at given that Aiko had significant transferable calligraphy skills from her fuinjutsu studies. 

They were each on their second drawing when Aiko felt her eyes cross. Someone was calling for her attention.

“Ah,” Narahime said, looking at her in alarm. 

Aiko fought the urge to crane around and look. No one was calling out loud, it was almost like… like an internal tugging. 

‘It’s one of my talismans. Kakuzu?’ 

It was very odd that someone could get her attention by channeling chakra into a religious symbol, but it was convenient. 

“Excuse me,” she told the girl, and put her ink brush down. “I’m sorry, something has come up.” 

Narahime laid down her own brush and put her little hands on her lap. “Of course.” She let her hair swish forward when she bowed goodbye. “Good luck on your errands.” 

Aiko gave her a faint smile and pulled away with Hiraishin. She found herself somewhere she had never been before, squinting against the sudden sunlight and thick smoke. Hand to her eyes, Aiko turned a circle to find the people who had called her. “Hey.” 

Kakuzu scowled at her, confused. He tucked his wooden talisman back into his clothing.

Mayumi raised her hand. She was leaning against the side of a building with crossed arms. She let the hand drop back to rest on the other elbow. “It’s been a while,” she said. Her hair was even more of a mess than usual.

“Love the look,” Aiko said, gesturing. “Did you have a fight or something?”

Mayumi barked a bitter laugh. “One might say so.” She jerked her head to the side, indicating a smoking pile.

Aiko looked at it. “...Skeletons,” she observed. “You, uh, been busy?”

Kakuzu grunted. 

“That’s not very illustrative,” she told him.

He heaved an enormous, put-upon sigh. “The Inuzuka were attacked in retaliation for your actions,” Kakuzu said tonelessly. He appeared bored and mildly irritated. “I assisted.”

“He’s going to get assassins,” Mayumi added. She leaned over to slap his back approvingly. “His village head is furious that he is here and not returning.”

Kakuzu was supremely unaffected. He might as well have been half-asleep.

…This was an intervention. Mayumi wanted to make sure that Aiko didn’t leave him so alone that his old village managed to reel him in or kill him. That was sort of sweet.

Aiko eyed him thoughtfully.

‘He left Tani originally because they disavowed him after a failed mission. Is the same thing happening here?’ She pursed her lips. ‘He seems to be a believer, but he might just know that they would discard him after he failed to assassinate me.’

Well.

Kakuzu had stayed with the Akatsuki for, like, 50 years or something wild with that. So he was clearly capable of remaining loyal to a group that wasn’t counter to his personal interests.

“Is there anything that you need?” Aiko decided on asking. She kept her tone mild. He was an adult. He didn’t need to be pandered to. “Kill the village head? Get your family out? Do you have some weapon or technique you want?”

She was just spitballing but the skin around his eyes went tight. Bingo. 

“There is a technique I want,” Kakuzu admitted. “A forbidden technique that only our village head knows.” He sneered. “With it, they could not trouble me.”

Aiko shrugged. “So we capture him, get him to explain the technique, and kill him?” She checked the skyline. “We have daylight, wanna go now?”

Mayumi and Kakuzu both looked at her for a long moment. “I had thought it would be best to enter under cover of darkness, assassinate the elder, and steal the scroll that explains the technique.” Kakuzu had the kind of voice that rumbled when he spoke. Every word came out weighty and serious. “I can accomplish this on my own.” He looked at her dead on for the first time. “All I wish from you is your blessing.”

“Of course you have it,” Aiko said without a thought. She took a step toward him and put a hand on his brow. “You turned your back on worldly obligations to follow me. You are righteous among men and will be rewarded.” 

Her voice reverberated, a courtly tongue echoing her own. Kakuzu stared at her covetous, pupils dilated. “Thank you.” If she was someone else, she might have found his smile frightening. “That is all I need.” 

Mayumi’s lips thinned.

‘He probably doesn’t need any help. But she’s concerned…’. 

Aiko thought about just letting him at it, but…

“Shall we go tonight?” she offered. “I can take you there and wait wherever you wish. It would save hours of travel.”

Kakuzu’s lips twisted like he had tasted something sour. He paused for a moment before declaring it; “Acceptable.” He seemed irritated by the necessity. “It would take a day and a half to travel there. I have better things to occupy my time.”

“Perfect. I’ll meet you at, say, 11?”