“Don’t get me wrong, I understand where you’re coming from,” Jiraiya said after a minute’s silence. “Sage knows I’m carrying around enough of Sarutobi-sensei’s secrets to fill a bathhouse. And I’d sooner stick a kunai in my chest than spit in the face of the man who’s made me who I am by giving up even one of them.”

He took a slow, deep breath, as if to prepare himself.

“But I’m going to ask you to do it anyway.”

Keiko visibly flinched.

“The fact is,” Jiraiya went on, “I didn’t get the village’s location from that surface scan, and I don’t have the manpower to comb every corner of Tea to find it. So if you die on this very dangerous mission I’m sending you on, the knowledge dies with you. I can’t allow that, because when those ninja finally turn up in the wider world, it’s going to play havoc with the balance of power. We need to be ready.

“Worse, you might get captured and interrogated, and then the information will probably go to the highest bidder. Quite honestly, there’s an argument to be made for killing you right here to prevent that, but I’m choosing to trust that you won’t let yourselves be taken alive. Especially with those rumours about Arikada’s specialised interests.”

The team exchanged uneasy glances, except for Kagome-sensei, who gave a slightly puzzled nod as if Jiraiya had just grimly stated “the sky is blue” or “sandals go on your feet” or “Leaf’s Tailed Beast breeding programme was shut down after it made the Nine-Tails go berserk that one time”.

“So what exactly do you want from us?” Inoue-sensei asked.

“Before you leave, you can just point the place out to me on a map. Later, assuming you come back alive, we’ll be able to take the time for a proper detailed debriefing.”

Jiraiya looked at Keiko.

“Don’t worry, kid. I’m not going to send in a strike team. For now, I’ll just put a few assets in place so when they make first contact, it’ll be a friendly welcoming committee from Hidden Leaf. Anything more complicated is down to the Hokage, but he’s the kind of guy who likes to play nice with potential allies. If we could get you into a more permanent arrangement with Leaf without upsetting the applecart, and assuming you stop teetering on the edge of the liability drop, we might even make you the guys to send in there.”

Keiko nodded.

“Good, glad to see we’re on the same page. Now, if there’s nothing else—”

“Um, Jiraiya, sir,” Akane raised her hand, “may I ask about the matter of the Academy we mentioned to you last time?”

“Ah, yes,” Jiraiya said. “We owe you on that front, perfectly honourable Leaf ninja into whose background we will not inquire further at this time.”

He glanced to the sides. His ninja agents were keeping perfectly straight faces.

“The bad news is that Mizuki got away. It seems he was smart enough to realise that if one of his students committed treason, he’d be investigated alongside everyone else connected to her, er, them. So he ran before we could arrest him.

“The good news is that he left behind some useful papers. Turns out the crap he pulled with a certain student came after he tried a much cleverer scheme of somebody else’s design, which fell through because the man was an imbecile. We reckon he was desperate to have some results to show his handler during their next contact, so he tried the last-minute stunt we saw.”

Hazō risked a glance at Inoue-sensei. A slight ironic expression on her face told him she was thinking the same thing as him. There was more to those papers, but Jiraiya didn’t see any reason for them to know that. Hazō felt a little proud for noticing.

“The even better news is that the investigation’s given us strong evidence that a certain genin who shall remain nameless is not quite as dastardly a criminal as previously believed. Now, matters are a little complicated by the fact that I have reports of said individual doing something really stupid which couldn’t possibly be the act of somebody officially affiliated with Hidden Leaf, but…”

Jiraiya gave a dramatic pause. Hazō couldn’t help noticing the Yamanaka agent roll her eyes.

“…I don’t think it would be outside my extraordinary abilities to get this person fully reinstated as a Leaf genin.”

Akane went more still than Hazō had ever seen her, even during meditation or sleep. He wasn’t sure she was even breathing.

“Of course,” Jiraiya went on, “their activity would be closely monitored for some time, meaning no missions outside a full Leaf team. They’d have to say goodbye to any missing-nin they may have been associating with.”

“Sir,” Akane said in a very small voice. “Sir, I…”

“You don’t have to decide now,” Jiraiya said. “You have committed to carrying out the Arikada mission for me first. Your reinstatement will be conditional on you not dying, not betraying me and not failing the mission in such a spectacular fashion that Leaf would have to disavow you all over again.

“I can’t believe I just had to say that sentence,” he added.

The rest of the discussion was conducted with Akane in a silent daze.

o-o-o-o

“If he doesn’t have any paralytics for us,” Hazō said to Inoue-sensei, “we can always try my earlier plan and harvest some from those chakra dragonflies in Iron. At the very least, I doubt they'll ever have encountered it before."

"Chakra dragonflies," Jiraiya said, appearing from around the corner as if by magic. "And you say they have some kind of paralytic venom?"

"I don't think it's venom per se. But it definitely paralyses people on contact."

"An original paralytic agent with no known antidote," Jiraiya mused, "with a source only you and I know.

"Well, I regret to say that I have nothing I can offer you in this regard. I'm afraid you're just going to have to retrieve this dragonfly saliva or what have you, and drop off a sample with me while you're at it."

o-o-o-o

Mari walked slowly through the twilight, periodically leaning on the cane Kagome had quickly made for her. She’d have been happy with a basic walking stick, but Kagome, she recalled with a smile, had muttered something incoherent and then taken the time to carve a delicate spiral pattern swirling around the shaft.

She’d decided to go with tall and voluptuous for the disguise of the day, but this inevitably begged the question of why such a stunning beauty would bother working as a mere merchant. Men, she found, often thought that way. Few stopped to consider that the only career where beauty was both necessary and sufficient was prostitution. Thus, it was often effective to introduce a single obvious flaw which removed her from the pedestal without compromising her seductive abilities, and ambiguously impaired mobility was a classic (especially since it could generate protective feelings at the same time).

They’d observed the trader with his caravan leaving Sarubetsu, accompanied by three dour-faced guards in red uniforms, then traced the path ahead until they found a well-used campsite a day of civilian travel away. Now, it was evening, and she and her own two silent "bodyguards" (who would stay a sensible distance away so as not to draw the ninja’s attention) had arrived just in time for the trader to be at his most relaxed right after his evening meal.

As she came close, she let the man see her, then adjusted her wide-brimmed hat so as to draw his attention away from the cane and to her carefully-crafted face.

“Pardon me, sir,” she said, “might I share the warmth of your fire?”

The short, richly-dressed, impressively-moustached man waved a hand towards her beckoningly. “Of course, ma’am. Long journey?”

She sat down, judging the distance for the maximal closeness etiquette would allow between two strangers. Hot Springs etiquette, to be precise—she didn’t know enough about Rice customs to attempt to fake them, and she had an angle in mind.

“Heavens, yes,” she gave a weary smile. “All that time stuck in Hot Springs, troublesome weather, and now my cart’s broken down way back on the trail and I don’t even know how long it’ll take my brother to fix it and catch up to me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think someone hired a ninja to turn invisible and torment me.

“No offense, sirs,” she added, glancing up at the three ninja, who seemed to be ignoring her.

The trader looked at the road behind her, then at the cane again, and opened his mouth.

She shot him a look that was part wry and part challenging, and watched the question die on his lips. Yes, let him think her the kind of woman who wouldn’t let disability so much as slow her down.

“May I ask what business you’re in?” she asked to restore the flow of conversation.

“Oh, luxuries, and, ah, refined goods,” the man told her. “Things of interest to those with an abundance of time and money on their hands. And yourself?” He tensed slightly, recalling that she was a potential competitor.

“Just vegetables,” Mari said self-deprecatingly. The trader relaxed again.

“Not so exciting,” she went on, “and at risk of spoilage. It makes it very trying when the Hot Springs people seal the borders and subject innocent merchants to their endless security procedures.”

The trader put down the leg of unidentifiable animal he’d been chewing. “I’m sorry, did you say Hot Springs had sealed its borders?”

“Oh, they’re open now,” Mari said. “It was just in the aftermath of the incident, you know.”

She gauged his expression and gave an inner triumphant grin.

“What’s this about an incident?” the trader asked worriedly.

“Oh, has word not spread here yet?” Mari asked. “But of course, I must be one of the first arrivals here, given the hold-up and the long journey.

“Well, sir,” she said playfully, “how about a favour for a favour? You can be the first to know about a very important event which might have an impact on your trade, and in return you can tell me about Sarubetsu so that I know what I’m in for when I arrive.

“You are clearly an experienced man,” she added with a wink, “and I’ve never been one to let an opportunity slip away.”

The trader laughed. “Oh, very good. Well, then, let it never be said that Okamura Seiji is not a gentleman—ladies first!”

Mari tipped her hat to him in a mock sign of respect, acknowledging what would have been a nice move if this had been a real negotiation.

“I understand that a team of missing-nin infiltrated the Mizutani hot spring resort,” she said, leaning in in a conspiratory way which also happened to direct his gaze downwards, “and assassinated some very important ninja. They say the perpetrators are still at large.”

Okamura reeled. “An assassination at a hot springs resort?! This is a disaster! Hot Springs’s patrons are going to be fleeing left, right, and centre! Whom am I going to be selling my goods to now?”

He wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve in an unconscious motion. “I’d better start shifting my investments as well. How many nobles are going to take holidays in Hot Springs if even Mizutani isn’t a safe place for them? I’m very sorry, ma’am, but if you haven’t realised it yet, your business in Hot Springs is going to be in a lot of danger.”

Mari raised her eyebrows. “What exactly are you referring to?”

“Well, we’ve seen it all before, haven’t we?” Okamura said. “With Rain Country before the war. Investors started pulling out one by one, the economy plummeted, merchants changed their routes because they’d only be losing money taking Rain currency, the country entered a depression, and once the effects of that hit their ninja village...

“Mind you,” he said, “I’m sure one incident won’t topple the entire economy like that. Hot Springs is in a much better starting position than Rain was. And besides, they can regain a great deal of credibility if they capture those assassins, and do it fast. No, perhaps I overreacted. After all, lots of ninja villages have a stake in Hot Springs remaining stable, and I’m sure their ninja hunters are already combing the continent for those evildoers.”

“Even Rice?” Mari asked, glancing up at the ninja bodyguards (who continued to be made of stone for all intents and purposes).

“Well, not so much Rice,” Okamura agreed. “Rice doesn’t have ninja hunters per se, since they don’t have missing-nin. If you betray your clan, you either flee the country or you die, and the clans have little interest in what goes on beyond their borders—or that’s how I’ve had it explained to me. And they aren’t on friendly terms with the ninja hunters of other villages either.

“Now that you put it that way, it does make it sound like those terrible assassins might be hiding in Rice, doesn’t it?” he finished thoughtfully.

“What about the clans that rule Sarubetsu?” Mari asked him. “Which ones are those?”

“Ah, well,” Okamura began in the voice of a man pleased to be seen as knowledgeable and wise. “No clans really rule Sarubetsu.”

There was a pointed cough from behind him.

“Although, of course, the Irie Clan have the strongest claim,” Okamura added quickly, “and if they really wanted to, I’m sure they could take control at any minute.

“But as things stand, the Irie are competing with the Murano, and a year ago Harada bowed out of the contest for Sarubetsu for reasons unknown, to be replaced by the Hinago. With all this going on, Mayor Emiya has been playing off the clans against each other—“

There was another cough.

“Yes, I know, only on the Irie’s sufferance,” Okamura said irritably, “may I get on with my explanation now?”

“So Mayor Emiya is an independent leader,” Mari said. “Can you tell me more about her and the clans?”

“Well,” Okamura paused to take another bite of his meat, “the Murano, the yellow clan, have traditionally controlled the arms and armour trade. They also used to have authority over tool crafting, but for some reason they ceded that to the Hanamura a couple of years ago. Their influence in Sarubetsu dates back from when it was much bigger, and a trade centre for metals coming out of Iron Country. But they lost their outright rule as that dried up.

“I don’t know what the Harada’s sphere of influence was, but I suppose they must have lost it, or maybe they had to allocate their resources somewhere more important. You don't see green much in the south anymore. And their replacements in Sarubetsu’s political arena are the Hinago, the violet clan. They are medics and healers by speciality, and in recent years they’ve entered a sharp ascendancy, displacing—or so I hear—their rivals the Uta Clan, and taking control of a chunk of the northwest.”

“But here they are competing for a village in the south,” Mari observed.

“Well, yes, for obvious reasons,” Okamura said. “Which brings them in conflict with the Irie, who have a strong influence over the yakuza, and thus over various illegal trades, which—“he pre-empted the cough—“they of course do their utmost to stamp out.”

“Pardon my ignorance, sir, but what are these obvious reasons?”

Okamura gave her an incredulous look. “Why, the izanai red, of course. Fields and fields of it are maintained by Sarubetsu farmers. That’s half the reason this village still exists.”

Izanai red. Some kind of flower? Or herb? It definitely rang a bell, but Mari had always been horribly bored by pharmaceutical classes. You used drugs to get the job done when you had to, sure, but to her it tended to feel like cheating. Not even the fun kind of cheating that defined being a ninja. Administering a drug was so much less interesting than taking control of somebody’s body and mind using nothing but the right words and perfect body language.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “What is izanai red?”

“A flower with useful medicinal properties,” Okamura said, “which can also be refined to produce Vermilion Sigh. And, um, also the other thing.”

Mari raised her eyebrows.

“My apologies,” Okamura muttered. “I shouldn’t even be alluding to that around ladies.”

“Not at all,” Mari smiled. “So I take it one can purchase this substance in Sarubetsu?”

“Oh, yes,” Okamura said. “The harvest just finished, as it happens, so it’s at its cheapest to buy, especially in bulk.”

He gave a regretful frown.

“And purely hypothetically, you understand,” Mari said, “where in Sarubetsu might one obtain such a substance?”

“Why?” Okamura asked. “Are you wishing to partake?”

“No, no,” Mari shook her head gently. “I ask simply so that I know for the future, since I have acquaintances who may be interested.”

“Ah,” Okamura said. “In that case, purely hypothetically, one might visit Smiling Miki’s antique store on Puppet Lane and ask about her sakura shoji screens. But you understand, I know nothing of this and am only repeating the word on the street.”

“I understand,” Mari said. “Are there any other persons of interest it may benefit me to know about as a newcomer?”

“Hmm,” Okamura tapped his index finger against his temple. “Well, I’ve mentioned Mayor Emiya. She doesn’t tolerate disorder, so I advise you not to cause trouble, since she can make life extremely difficult for you if you make so much as one tiny mistake in the wrong place and at the wrong time, even if it wasn’t really your fault. On the other hand, she’s said to be a great help to those abused by the ninja clans, so bear that in mind.

“Horibe is the local representative of the Mihara Group, the yakuza organisation with influence across much of the south. With the Irie Clan’s wise oversight, his reach is limited, but he is nevertheless a useful source of information on the local criminal world if you can make it worth his while. Of course, this is also nothing more than hearsay.

“Emi the Younger is the manager of the Firefly Inn, which is the biggest and best place to stay in the village. If ten people come to Sarubetsu each day, I’m betting five of them will be getting rooms at the Firefly Inn. I get the feeling she knows an awful lot about what’s going on in Sarubetsu as a result.

“She also has an extremely strong sense of personal space,” he said absently.

“Ahem. Oh, I mustn’t forget to mention Haruo the Stickler. If you need general goods, or to be pointed to a good specialist, I’ve dealt with Haruo the Stickler in the past, and he’s a solid man who won’t lead you astray. His shop is on Meandering Way. It looks like a normal house, but if you look closely, there’s a little wooden plaque that says 'Haruo’s' next to one of the windows.”

“Thank you,” Mari said. “This is very helpful. One more thing. Are there any important rumours or events I should know about? You understand, I wouldn’t want to go in looking like an ignorant foreigner.”

“Rumours, you say?” This time Okamura tapped his other temple. “Well, a lot of them really aren’t things it would be proper to say in front of a lady. For the rest… some people are saying that the Harada Clan aren't really gone but are preparing to stage a massive comeback. Some are saying Mayor Emiya has been hiring missing-nin to work against the clans, while others claim it’s the clans that have been hiring missing-nin to work against her. I’ve also heard that some missing-nin have been hiring Mayor Emiya, but I think that less likely. Of course, any hiring of missing-nin is completely illegal in the first place.

“People are saying that Emi the Elder is due to marry Urushibara the tanner, who will then take ownership of the inn and kick her sister out. Neither Emi has commented. Oh, and an abandoned house on the west side is said to be haunted, and people who go there tend to disappear.”

“Well,” Mari beamed, “you’ve been most helpful.”