"Between our two lives

there is also the life of

the cherry blossom."

― Matsuo Bashō

There is a hint of spring in the air, I think - the leaves are in bud under the nestling sakura flowers.

Hantoki Village is not the largest place I've been. It's pleasing to the eye though. I let my eyes roam around its limits; the avenue I'm standing on leans gently towards the stone-plated waterfront, flanked by old-style, grey tiled-roof houses. At the door of each is a step down to the smooth road; some have plants in pots and toys belonging to children that have been forgotten about, at least for tonight, and others have men smoking outside. And flags, so many bright little flags, all hanging from the eave of one house to the one across the street.

In the morning they will flutter, I suspect, like petals in the wind. They're strung like ivy and their colours blend in a riot. The community spirit is strong in this region; all places are connected by the people living there, but it seems like the rural places celebrate it more. Maybe they connect closer with it - the majority of people here are civilians who don't worry about things of a more military nature. I remember the country paddocks as I walk past, dotted with farmhouses. It seems peaceful here. It's just an hour away from the borders of three countries but seeing is believing. I doubt any of the people here could stand to live in Konoha for very long though. Not the way it is now.

Although as of late Hantoki has not been peaceful either.

The road I'm on follows the waterfront like a faithful companion, and the soft, sweet sound of water lapping against the harbour is music to a tired man's ears. There are stairs here and there too, narrow alleys to another part of the village and what appears to be more of a busy, vibrant area. The odour of food wafts down - barbeque, the thick and heady smell of street food frying in carts, the soft scent of sweets. My stomach growls at the thought but I must press onwards.. maybe later I can come to investigate.

For the mission of course. But if there's time I want to sample Hantoki marmalade from its source instead of paying a small fortune for it at home.

There was hard work put into this town.. my geta make a clack-clack noise on the stone road. It's surprising that such a little backwater has had so much consideration and effort.

From what I see the roads curl around each other like the coils of a snake. A haphazard look to be sure, but a traditional one designed to funnel and disorient any invaders - maybe there was a castle here, years ago. It would explain the effort put into the village, from the thick, sturdy walls of each structure to the carefully carved woodwork, the arches overhead. Not even the most successful farmer could coordinate all this by himself, I muse, making my way up a set of stairs. I'll have to enquire about it. Maybe it would be a great book one day.

God, there is a place in the laneway in front of me that sells yakitori sticks and I falter. It won't take long to make, right? No. I'm already a little bit late as is, what harm will another five minutes be? It'll be fine.

It turns out to be extremely fine and as soon as a stick is swapped for ryo it's in my mouth. The best condiment for food is hunger, but this is a divine gift. Spices, perfect. Meat, juicy and warm, and I scarf it down. Irresistible. I order another two for the road, eating one and holding the other, and by the time I reach the village outskirts the rumble in my stomach has lessened to a dull roar.

A cute little place. Very novel, peaceful; a refuge from the outside world. There would be a big trade here for the festivals. Needs more girls though, of course, and the fact that I haven't seen any in the time I've been here…

Orochimaru was right about this town.

I've reached the place where all roads meet to one - the head of the serpent, and beyond here it disappears into the maple forests clinging to Kuraiyama. The gloomy mountain is the centrepiece of this area, shrouded in its mists and Hantoki lies in the giant's shadow. From here there is only one way forward - through into the forest, and up to find him.


The journey is not difficult, but it's long (especially wearing geta, which have a tendency to slip on stones if one is not careful). It must have taken at least an hour to climb, in the night no less. I see a warm light up ahead every so often. It seems to be getting brighter. Last time it was invitingly close - maybe a little longer.

The trees reach skywards and I follow their lines, stopping for a minute. They're like fingers pointing to the dark blue night and the glistening stars, some primitive kind of hand sign that only nature knows. Maybe they'll start to bud leaves soon, but.. for now they're a little spooky. It's not the first time I've been in a forest by myself, though, when you grow up in Konoha you're bound to find yourself amidst trees after dark.

The only thing is.. I'm not sure what, but this feels different. Alive and watching somehow, instead of the gentle life that growing things give off. Maybe there are animals here too, hiding in the dark. Or maybe -

There is a place in every shinobi where your mind ends and your instinct begins. Sometimes it's on the horizon.

Today, right now, it is gut-wrenchingly close.

I feel the hair rise on the back of my neck.

The sharp twiiii of a thrown kunai passes by my ear. I freeze. Any sound and the next one won't miss. Slow, spidery, my fingers creep to the kunai pouch strapped to my thigh. I brush it open.

Breathe: quiet through gritted teeth.

A shadow bursts from my left. The stench of metal floods my nostrils; sparks crash in the dark as kunai clash.

Move: fall back.

I drop to the ground. My geta clacks as my blow connects, the soft sound of breath knocked out of the opponent, a gasp to recover. Footsteps dash, and I'm not quick enough to follow, but I fling my kunai blindly into the darkness. The smell of red iron comes back on the breeze, but it must have just skimmed them - too subtle for a direct hit, and soft footfalls disappear into silence.

Shit.

They're gone now, whoever they are - I can't sense any chakra, and there's no noise apart from the creaking boughs of the maple.

I release the breath I've been holding and stand up, pressing forward. Maybe these things are related; the attack and the eerie forest, the women missing from the town. Either way, it's become urgent now - this mission has changed from a wait-and-see to one demanding direct attention.

And the best person to help is Orochimaru.