Turning around, I found myself facing a crowd of fifteen, maybe more, all staring at me with faces caught somewhere between shock and fear.
"Thanks again for the stool - hope you find a good place for these," I told the Nara at the desk. He nodded, eyes still pinned to the canvas like it might blink.
"Central hall, third row - 'Life and Death' theme," he muttered, almost to himself.
A couple of visitors exchanged a look. "Did that thing just - " one whispered.
"Don't finish that sentence," her friend hissed, clutching her sleeve.
Everyone else was staring too. Well, except for that girl over there… if she is a girl. Her gaze looked unfocused, like she was seeing through me instead of at me. Still, she wasn't bad-looking. On par with Kushina and Mikoto, and those eyes - gray, which you don't see much around here. In all my time in Konoha, I've only met two people with gray eyes, not counting the Hyuga, and theirs are more of a milky white.
Maybe I should go introduce myself… no. I've already lingered too long. I'm supposed to be heading to the Uchiha district.
Aika yawned in my arms, the tiniest squeak. Right. Time to move.
****
"My lady, are you all right?" Nekorin brushed Mezumi's shoulder with the back of her fingers, just enough to snap her out of it.
"Huh?" Mezumi blinked twice, then immediately swept the room with her eyes - where did he go?
"You mean Akira-san? He left about ten seconds ago. Should we follow?" Even though Mezumi had stopped staring into space, Nekorin still felt uneasy. The moment Mezumi saw Akira up close, she'd gone statue-still, and now the strange look in her eyes raised even more questions.
Did she… just freeze from seeing him that close? Sure, he's handsome, but… is this what they call love at first sight? Nekorin wondered.
Nekorin - or Kiyomi - wasn't surprised Akira hadn't recognized her; she was under a henge. You could count the people who'd seen her real face on one hand. With the burn scars an A-rank medical-nin couldn't completely erase, she avoided showing her true features unless there was no choice.
She'd revealed them to Akira once only to get a better read on his character - and because he needed to hear certain things from a face that didn't ask for pity.
"Yes! I mean… no. Wait. Let's go back to the residence first." The sudden change of plan might have surprised Nekorin, but not much surprised her anymore where this man was concerned.
Is it because of the painting? Is she afraid getting involved with Akira will bring her bad luck? she guessed, guiding her mistress out. Mezumi stayed unusually silent the entire way from the arts center to the residence.
Back inside, her lady managed to surprise her again.
"Nekorin, bring me something to drink. Sake will do." Mezumi rarely drank - only at official functions, and even then just a sip or two for politeness. Right now, she looked ready to actually tie one on.
"What happened? What did I miss?" Nekorin could feel panic nibbling at her edges, but she moved quickly and returned with a ceramic flask from Torio-san's stash.
"Please, sit." Mezumi gestured to the sofa across from her. Just looking at those two sofas, you could tell they cost a samurai's ten-year salary.
Nekorin perched on the edge, hands tidy in her lap, and watched Mezumi pour. The sake chimed softly against porcelain. The room held its breath.
"I want you to tell me everything you know about Akira. Again," Mezumi said.
She really did fall for him? Nekorin thought, and began to recount what she knew.
"He opened that unusual eatery - McDonald's - and somehow made half the village line up for fried chicken. He set up a charity fund that paid medical bills after the demolition accident. He's negotiating a market build-out. He can paint, he can cook, he can do proper storage seals, and today he made what looked like a Kage Bunshin with one hand. He's… practical. And reckless in a way that pays off."
Mezumi listened without interrupting, knuckles pale around her cup.
****
They let me into the district without any trouble - apparently my face is a passport here now. No questions, just greetings and the wooden gates swinging open.
One guard tipped his chin. "Welcome back, Akira-san."
"Thanks. Any news?" I asked, pausing.
"The carpenters finished three roofs on South Lane. Mikoto-sama's in meetings till evening. Watch your step near the old well - loose stones." He blinked at Aika. "Cute."
"She knows," I said, and moved on.
I wasn't the only one buried in work this past month. Mikoto had been carrying the clan's affairs, too. Most of the damage along the main street had been repaired or at least covered with quick cosmetics. Even so, the place still felt half-empty.
That part you can't fix overnight - you can't exactly ask the women of the clan to have five or ten children each and call it a development plan.
No new stalls, shops, or bakeries had sprung up. In fact, there were fewer places offering anything at all. Not surprising, since the district was still closed to villagers and outsiders.
You could say the place was slowly dying, like a lake cut off from its source. Not enough money flowing in, not enough people, and morale sagging to the floor. Pretty speeches alone won't shake this place awake.
All right, first I'll check the house.
I turned onto the path toward the forest park and took a look around. Nothing new here either. This area had taken the least damage.
Aside from my house at the edge of the woods, there were only a few scattered homes; the closest was about a hundred steps on the right, also near the trees. As far as I knew, it sat empty too. The rest clustered closer to the path and the district center.
"Yip-yip," Aika said from my arms, a flicker of excitement in her voice. She'd spent most of her life in the woods; this was all familiar ground.
"Almost there, beautiful. Once we're home, I'll let you run." She settled instantly, which was another reminder she's a lot smarter than the local wildlife. Frogs can talk here, so I wouldn't be surprised if Aika understood speech.
What amazes me is how fast she picked it up. Probably thanks to Naruko, who can talk without stopping to breathe.
At the gate, the new lintel still smelled faintly of camphor. The engawa boards had been sanded smooth. Inside, tatami exhaled that clean, straw-sweet scent you only get in the first month after replacement. A scuff on the threshold marked where someone had hauled in plaster - or where I'd been careless last time.
"Two days," I told the empty air. "I'll make time in two days."
Aika licked my knuckle like she agreed.
****
"Huh? Who's that?" A young woman, passing the front window of her new house, caught a hint of movement and leaned closer.
"Wow, he's really handsome… I mean - what's he doing in the district? And why is he coming this way?" Izumi Uchiha hadn't lived here long, and she still felt it was embarrassing to let anyone in at the moment. Construction debris sat everywhere in the entryway.
Without thinking twice, she started hauling the bags into another room.
It took her less than two minutes to finish. She hurried back to the window - why hadn't anyone knocked yet?
"Oh, he's going to the house next door… So he's my neighbor?" She pressed her lips together. "That must be the Akira I've heard about."
During the clan's upheaval, her place - and her aunt's - had been caught in the crossfire. Her aunt bled out before she could reach the hospital, and Izumi spent three weeks there herself with broken ribs.
After discharge, she realized she couldn't live in her aunt's house anymore - it was beyond saving. A former neighbor told her she could take any vacant home if hers had been destroyed - just speak with Mikoto-dono.
She did, learned what was available, and chose this traditional place on the edge of the forest park. She didn't want to live alone in a house built for four or five, and no one had died here last month. It only needed a little work, which she was happy to do.
"And what do you even bring as a greeting - dango? Fruit? Tea?" she fretted, glancing around. "I have crackers. Crackers are not fruit."
She peered in the mirror and winced. To put it gently, she looked a mess: long hair tangled, dust clinging everywhere, paint on her cheek and shirt.
"Yeah… I should've worried more about myself than the entryway," Izumi muttered, heading for the bath.
Ten minutes later, clean, hair damp and clothes fresh, she stepped outside.
"Huh? He's already leaving?!" She froze, staring at Akira's back as he walked toward the district center, the same way he'd come.
"Seriously…" her shoulders slumped, disappointment tugging her mouth down.
"Tomorrow," she told the silent path. "Tomorrow I'll catch him."
[ image ]

****
"So… how old is he?" Mezumi asked, voice low.
"Eighteen, if you take him at his word, though I'd say he looks younger." After half an hour of talking about the same person, Nekorin was tiring. Mezumi clearly wasn't.
"No way…" Mezumi sighed and pressed her palm to her eyes.
"My lady, are you all right?" Nekorin stood at once and moved closer to her pale, anxious mistress.
"Yes… I'm fine, I think. It's just… at the arts center I had a thought I don't want to believe. It can't be…" Mezumi's fingers tightened around the cup.
"My lady?" Nekorin's worry spiked when she saw Mezumi's eyes turning red.
"Nekorin… imagine Akira as a woman."
"What?" To say she was surprised would be an understatement.
"Don't ask questions. Just picture what Akira would look like as a girl," Kiyomi repeated, steady but insistent.
Akira… as a girl? No, he's definitely a guy! Oh - she just wants me to imagine a female version? Fine. Rounder face, longer lashes, a chest, wider hips and waist, long hair…
Glancing at Kiyomi, Nekorin said, "For some reason, the first person who comes to mind is you, my lady."
Same dark hair. Gray eyes. Pale skin. Long legs. Beautiful features.
[ image ]

"Hm… even the eyebrows match a little. Akira's are a touch thicker."
"And he's a good artist… smart… and there's that aura about him," Nekorin added, almost to herself.
"He can get a room to lean in," Mezumi murmured.
Oh, I knew it. My lady loves a mirror - meet someone as beautiful as she is, and her heart is swept away, Nekorin concluded, half-teasing in her own head.
But their status is worlds apart… the great Lord Daimyo would never approve of such a marriage, and yet - on the other hand - it's romantic, like those stories where a prince marries a common girl. Only here it's the princess. Well, almost.
"Akiyo," Mezumi whispered, the name trembling out of her.
Nekorin hadn't served Mezumi as a child - she'd entered service at twelve - but she knew that name.
"Forgive me for asking, my lady, but… is he even alive?"
"I don't know…" Mezumi closed her eyes. "He disappeared at six, when I was ten. My father searched every city in our prefecture and found nothing - as if he'd vanished into thin air. We even hired Inuzuka shinobi, but every trail ended at the Azure Forest. The hounds circled the same three trees and lay down crying. He'd run from my father, terrified of punishment for accidentally breaking a very expensive vase he liked to show off to guests."
Nekorin let the silence settle, soft as dust.
"Well… yes, you do share a lot, but I think it's just coincidence. We're not characters in a novel. Life's full of surprises," she said after a moment. Then, more gently, "Besides, he told me himself he's not from around here."
"Maybe so," Mezumi murmured, eyes cooling into resolve. "But I'd still like to test the theory. And I even know who can help me."
Nekorin inclined her head. "Understood. I'll make the arrangements."
***
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