A Peck of Gold

Dust always blowing about the town,
Except when sea-fog laid it down,
And I was one of the children told
Some of the blowing dust was gold.

All the dust the wind blew high
Appeared like god in the sunset sky,
But I was one of the children told
Some of the dust was really gold.

Such was life in the Golden Gate:
Gold dusted all we drank and ate,
And I was one of the children told,
'We all must eat our peck of gold.'

-Robert Frost

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or related characters.

Edited 12-10-08.

Quick Terms:
Okiya – geisha house
Shichou-san – Mayor

oOo

It wasn't that strange, she decided finally, being called to the mayor's office like this. Even if it had never happened before. Even if the odd sense of foreboding hung heavy in the air around, it was nothing out of the ordinary.

…right?

She stopped, staring at the door of the office. It was a nice door -a shoji screen- much like the doors of the okiya, and must have been specially made, for she could hear nothing beyond it, no sound, no murmur of voices…

She rocked on her heels feeling oddly anxious. Stalling if she were completely honest. The receptionist, seeing her hesitation, waved her impatiently inside.

He really was expecting her, she realized nervously. Her. Sumomo. That in itself made her heart skip a beat. The okiya mother was the one who handled all her affairs. Okāsan did all the talking, all the negotiating. She herself knew nothing of business or administration, but the fact that she'd been summoned here and not mother…

But perhaps it had to do with her brother. Yuuto wasn't even in town; he rarely was. She had no idea where he went or even what sort of work he did, but he did send the occasional letter, and at least twice a year got around to visiting her. Since he had no permanent residence and flat out refused to carry a cell phone, writing or even contacting him was difficult. Perhaps this was the reason she was being summoned. Maybe they simply wanted her to pass along a message or something for when he did get come into town...which, if his last letter was to be believed, would be in the next few days. She chewed on her lip, considering.

…or maybe something had happened to him. Maybe he was hurt…or worse—

"Odoriko Sumomo?"

The voice was unexpectedly close, and she jumped, watching with mild trepidation as the shoji screen slid open. She'd spent too much time fretting in front of the door; shichou-san did not look happy. His face, always thin, was made even longer by the pensive frown he wore, and his grey eyes, normally lined with a spray of crow's feet, seemed to have aged at least ten years.

"Please come in." His voice sounded strained, anxious, and she found his anxiety contagious as she stepped through the threshold and into the lavishly decorated office. It was the first time she'd been inside the place before. It was the first time she'd been this close to him, really. She knew who he was. Everyone in the city knew Mayor Higurashi. But he was simply a figurehead, more symbol than anything else. Important in his own right, certainly, but not someone she thought or even cared that much about. Since most political and business gatherings were held at the local teahouse she saw him fairly often, though this was the first time she'd ever paid any sort of real attention to the man outside of generic politeness.

In public he was a smiling, genial man; middle-aged with salt and pepper hair and a quietly confident voice, but today was a startling contrast. He looked frail and weary, shoulders hunched over as though he bore a great weight. Why, his persona seemed as grey as the business suit he wore, she thought wryly, and then suddenly felt ashamed. She was not dressed to appear in such a place. His officials had caught her- in the middle of shopping of all things – and she had been quickly ushered away, shopping bags and all. She still held the evidence, two large department store bags from Mitsukoshi and Isetan, clutched forgotten in either hand. Maybe, she thought idly, she'd have time to go back after lunch—

"Sumomo-san?" she snapped to attention, wooden clogs sinking deep into the plush carpet of the office.

"I must apologize for such an abrupt meeting." He sounded grave, which did nothing to relieve her growing tension, but she could only nod and give an absent smile. She did not like this intrusion upon her time. Very rarely did she have free time, and to have it interrupted… She gripped her bags. Hopefully it would be over soon, but his next words sent a startled chill through her.

"I'm afraid I have some rather…startling news." He paused, and she was again struck. For such a prominent figure he should be used to speaking to the public, and yet he did not seem to know what to say or how to go about saying it, and it was making her uneasy.

He cleared his throat "I would have preferred to wait until your brother arrived…" here an indiscernible look crossed his face, and Sumomo had a brief moment to wonder at the fact that he seemed familiar with her brother's erratic schedule before he went on, "but it appears we haven't been given the time-"

"-the presence of her brother is not required." She jerked at the voice, bags swinging, and for the first time since arriving to the office, realized with a start that they were not alone. How she had managed to miss this fact she could not fathom. She must have walked past them upon entering the room- she had to have- but her attention had been fixed on the mayor himself. Now she stared, slightly disconcerted, at the two figures lounged in the shadow of the room. She was slightly nearsighted, and one of the figures stood so far back that she could just barely make out the blurred outline of a male. The other one, a female, was closer, and not too far off from her own age, she decided, though this was difficult to determine what with her stony expression.

"This is not what we asked for." The woman's voice was like liquid ice, throaty and deep. She couldn't place the accent. It was deep and guttural…foreign. As was her appearance. The honey blonde hair, the dark skin… The pigtails were questionable, but overall did nothing to detract from the woman's exotic beauty. A visitor? Someone important, if the mayor himself was taking the time to speak with her. Probably some foreign dignitary, she guessed, to speak to him with such casual apathy.

"Of course she isn't in costume right now," the mayor replied carefully. "In any event, I assure you that she is a geisha."

Sumomo blinked. This was what she'd been summoned for? It was the last thing she'd expected, and the confusion must have shown on her face, for the woman, the blonde, glanced over briefly before turning back to her companion- who was, she noticed, suddenly closer. An indiscernible look passed between them before the male spoke.

"Don't test us, Higurashi."

Despite the warning, it was an ordinary voice. The regular voice of a male in his early to mid twenties. Well, with the same throaty accent as his female companion, that is. And yet despite its foreignness, it sounded just faintly familiar. She'd heard that voice before, she was sure. Or one like it. But when she lifted a curious gaze to his face, she almost stepped back in horror.

His face scared her.

It looked inhuman, barbaric, lined in blood red paint and done in strange, linear designs. He wore a hood on his head, a little cat hood that reminded her ironically of those fuzzy little pastel animal caps that mothers sometimes dressed their children in. Except that his hood was black and …well…decidedly un-cute, she thought, suppressing a shudder. Her gaze slid hurriedly back to his pigtailed companion, whom she promptly regretted looking at, for the blonde's eyes perused her coolly before looking dismissively away. Sumomo felt insulted.

"We had hoped to select the girl ourselves."

"Never-the-less," shichou-san's voice, though still cultured and professional, sounded suddenly nervous. "This is…difficult to arrange. And the geisha are all quite similar, I assure you. If you've seen one you've seen them all. This one will work just as well for your…purposes as any of the others."

Sumomo stared, indignation widening her eyes. No one who was around geisha as much as shichou-san would ever say such a thing. They were not all the same! It was like saying every snowflake was the same, or like comparing the petals of cherry blossoms to each other. It was insulting, really, and she couldn't help the frowning pout that formed on her face. But what could she say? The mayor brought all sorts of business to the teahouse and okiya, and okāsan would be absolutely furious if she did anything to ruin it.

"And how do we know that this one is what you say? Are we simply to accept your word?"

Shichou-san didn't answer, seemingly at a loss. She found herself suddenly impatient, not to mention a little offended. She did not appreciate being dragged off the streets for something as inauspicious as this. Really…she thought huffing silently, how rude

"Wait. I recognize that one." She turned, still slightly flustered, to the foreigner, the one with the painted face. Again she was struck by how familiar his voice seemed, but she couldn't remember ever having seen him before. The blonde narrowed her eyes.

"Was this the one…?"

"No. This one was at the teahouse last night."

The teahouse. The teahouse. She did a mental backtrack. Yes, she was there, but there had been so many people in attendance that it was difficult to place any one specific person. Especially not him, and she was certain such a person would have stood out, even without the paint and outfit. His skin was dark enough that he would be easily noticeable in the sea of fair skinned natives.

"Then she is-?"

"Yeah, she's one of them, I'm sure." The way he said it did not sound like a good thing. The woman didn't answer, throwing a last suspicious glare towards Sumomo before stalking abruptly to the desk.

"If we find out she's not the real thing, our contract is null and void." The mayor visibly blanched, but nodded slowly. The blonde seemed satisfied, dropping what looked like a rolled parchment on the desk. "You'll be her witness, obviously-"

"Witness?" she suddenly found her voice, small and uncertain though it was. This conversation was taking a decidedly disturbing direction. The blonde pointedly ignored her, while the mayor himself did not appear to have even heard. Only the man, with his garishly painted face, glanced briefly over before turning back to the mayor, who had slowly unrolled the scroll, eyes skimming over it.

"Why isn't your Kage here himself?" instead of waiting for an answer, he plowed on, seeming suddenly desperate, grey eyes wildly panicked. Whatever calm he'd had before seemed to have dissipated completely. "Surely…surely Kazekage-sama would prefer one of the other girls in the district. Perhaps one with a more political upbringing? Sumomo is no such girl. A geisha is not reared to be a-"

A what?

There was a word floating in her head but she did not want to think it. Thinking of it gave it life, and that sort of thing just didn't happen. Not in this day and age. Not here. Not to her

"Little late for theatrics, isn't it?" the hooded man sounded bored, reclining against the edge of the desk and staring blankly out the window. "Don't forget you agreed to this. We gave you a choice. It was you who made the final decision."

Decision? She turned confused eyes to the mayor, who looked uncomfortable.

"It wasn't much of a choice! The Land of Rice Fields has no military force! If you decide to wage war against us on a mere whim-"

And suddenly she knew. It hit her like a blow, the obvious, and she wondered why it had taken so long for her to realize. The gleaming hitai-ate should have been clue enough, but it had been so long since she'd seen those. Years. Normal people didn't wear them. The only people who did, were-

Ninja.

The word appeared unbidden in her head, a whispered warning of her subconscious. The room around her seemed to close in, and the full comprehension hit her all at once, knocking the breath out of her.

She was in the room with ninja. Killers for hire. Mercenary. Human weapons.

It was suddenly hard to breathe. The bags fell from her hands forgotten, arms hanging limply at her side. When was the last time she'd seen a ninja? It had been at least six or so years since the fall of Otogakure. There had not been a ninja in their country since that time. But now…now they were back, for whatever reason-

It couldn't be good. Whenever ninja appeared it usually signaled the start of something bad. Like a war. Or worse. She shuddered.

Ninja.

Foreign ninja, obviously, for their skin was darker than that of the residents of the country, and their throaty accents, though slight, spoke of a different region entirely. She felt faint, slightly nauseous, shichou-san's voice only a vague murmur above the roaring in her head.

"Sign the scroll, Higurashi. You've wasted enough of our time. Kazekage-sama will…not be pleased with such a delay. He is quite anxious, as are we, to get the situation resolved." The woman no longer seemed quite so pliant, not that she'd ever been. Shichou-san seemed to sense this, for he covered his face with his hands, sounding mournful.

"I can't simply sign her off like some piece of property! The okiyadoes not even own this one! What am I to tell her brother?" It was a weak attempt, a desperate attempt that made the hair on the back of her neck rise with growing comprehension. Too late, she thought angrily, clenching her fists. An idea was forming in her head, an ugly, hidious one, fuzzy and indistinct and one that she hoped with all her heart wasn't true. The ninja man was right. It was too late to mime concern or regret when he'd summoned her here with the intention of—

But now the two ninja were staring at her, icy and accusing, and she found herself taking a stumbling step back, nearly tripping over her discarded bags.

"Girl! How old are you?" the blonde's eyes were sharp, and she found that her breath escaped her. It was the first time she'd been fixed full on by their gaze, and she didn't like it. There were rumors about nin and their strange techniques. Some were said to be able to kill a man simply by looking at them. And truly, she thought as she stared into those eyes, they must hold some sort of power, because it was suddenly hard to breathe. Her gaze darted to the mayor's, who was watching her intently. He seemed to be trying to communicate with her, to will her into an answer. But what could she say? What was the age of legality in the Land of Rice Fields? She'd lived here most of her life, but she didn't know… everything she'd ever done had been dealt with through either the okāsan or her brother.

If...if she lied about her age, would they be able to tell? She'd been told she looked young; probably she could pass for seventeen if she tried. If that was the case, they'd be forced to wait for her brother. Or okāsan, since the woman had been her acting guardian in his absence. But…

They were ninja after all. Maybe they could read her mind… Or they could just as easily search her records- probably they already had her records… Oh God, did they have access to that?

Damn! She'd waited too long. Their irritation had grown into outright suspicion, and she knew she'd never get away with lying now. Staring into the glaring blue eyes of the blonde, she found her mouth moving before she realized what was happening.

"T-twenty three…"

The male ninja frowned. "She's three years older than him…"

"Whatever. She'll do." This was said flatly, and the blonde turned back to mayor, releasing her from her glare. "If she's twenty three she can sign for herself, without a guardian. In most shinobi villages a twelve year old is considered a legal adult."

"But this isn't a shinobi village!" shichou-san cried, standing up.

"Isn't it?," Her gaze was piercing. The mayor looked away. "Regardless, she's about to join one, isn't she? An official one," the blonde added snarkily, "unless you prefer the other option?" Shichou-san sat, paling, eyes fluttering shut.

"Where do I sign?"

Sumomo's stomach dropped. "What's going on?" Higurashi turned to her slowly, expression grim.

"I'm sorry," and strangely enough, he did look sorry, though this wasn't enough to quench her fear, the growing horror pooling at the pit of her stomach. If anything, it made it worse, seeing shichou-san defeated in such a way. He was still talking, she realized slowly, though she'd already missed over half of whatever it was he was saying. "…assure you, your brother will be informed as soon as a message can be sent out to him." His fingers flexed, and then the pen was skating across the scroll. She stared at the pen, feeling inexplicably heavy.

"Inform him of what? What's happening?" she felt the beginnings of panic rise in her throat, and she swallowed it down concentrating instead on the mayor's sagging shoulders. He avoided her gaze, his grey eyes fixed steadily on the scroll before him, though the pen in his hand had long since stilled. It was the blonde who answered, voice cold and indifferent as she said the words that would change her life.

"You will be marrying the Kazekage. More specifically, when you sign this paper you WILL be married to him. As of this moment you are now a citizen of Sunagakure." She snatched the scroll and pen away from the mayor, studying it for a moment before inclining her head. Sumomo didn't move. Her mouth didn't seem to want to work, her body was frozen to the spot, and the only thing she could hear were the words the ninja woman had spoken combined with the phantom phrases shichou-san had revealed since she'd walked in.

We gave you a choice, don't forget. It was you who made the final decision.

The Land of Rice Fields has no military force! If you decide to wage a war against us on a mere whim-

She was being bargained for the city. The mayor was freely handing her over to these ninja, and in such a furtive manner that she doubted anyone outside the people currently in the office even knew.

"No!" He'd thrown her to the wolves…probably because her only relative did not even live here. She felt a fierce stab of anger. Yuuto! It was his fault! If he had been around…if he had raised her instead of leaving her at a geisha house as a child-

Even as she thought this, she felt a twinge of guilt; finger pointing right now would not help. In the here and now there was only herself. She had to get out of this. She had to stop this and that meant she had to think fast. But she'd never had to think before, not like this. She'd always gotten by on her appearances, on the subtle nuances of entertainment and art. Thinking on the spot had never been her forté.

"I have a boyfriend!" Too late she realized the childishness of her words.

"Then I suggest you say goodbye. You won't be seeing him again." the blonde did not seem to notice the blunder. Or perhaps she simply did not care. In truth she barely paid attention to her, signing something off on the scroll before gesturing impatiently to her. "Now get over here and sign your name." It wasn't enough, she realized with dread. She needed something serious, something so distasteful that the ninja would have no choice but to demand another girl. In a flash it came to her, and she blurted the idea, clinging to it like a drowning man.

"I'm having a baby! I'm pregnant with my boyfriend's child!" she'd heard enough talk to know that most men did not want the implications of another man's child. Even so, to utter the words was terribly embarrassing. Okasan would have a fit if she knew what a spectacle she was making of herself. Then again, she wondered what the woman would say if she knew that the mayor was trying to bargain her off like this. And to a ninja! The idea of it… She couldn't be a wife. Especially not the wife of some random killer-nin. Her hand splayed on her belly in what she hoped was a convincing manner.

This seemed to catch their attention, the possibility of a baby, and even the blonde paused long enough to glance at her stomach.

"Oh? How far along are you?" this was asked by the male, his painted face twisted in faint curiosity. Or was it amusement? Looking as such, she was struck again by how familiar he seemed, but the thought was quickly pushed aside.

"…eight months!" it was the first thing that came to her mind, and even as she said it, she realized the ridiculousness of the statement. The ninja apparently did too, for he stared down at her stomach, her flat stomach wound tightly in an obi, before fixing her with a dull stare.

"You look pretty thin to be eight months pregnant. Must be something in the water over here."

The blonde deadpanned. "Don't encourage her idiocy, Kankuro…" whatever else she said was lost, for Sumomo spun on her heels and ran towards the door. It was a childish reaction, fight or flight, an extremely un-geisha thing to do. But what else was there? Against ninja it was suicide to attack, and she didn't know how to fight anyway. And reasoning obviously didn't work.

But she could run. She would run, though the narrow cut of her kimono made it fairly difficult. She needed to get home, back to the okiya. Okāsan would know what to do. She wouldn't let these people…these ninja come in and simply take her away. There were laws against this, weren't there? No one did these kinds of things, not in the Land of Rice Fields, not anymore-

The next thing she knew, she was on the floor, staring up at the ceiling in a daze. How had she-??

"I wouldn't try that again. A woman in your 'condition' ought to be more careful." It was the male, his painted face looking eerily sinister above her felled form. In the background she was vaguely aware of the mayor speaking, voice raised and agitated. She opened her mouth, drawing breath to scream when her arm was suddenly wrenched from behind and she was hauled awkwardly to her feet. She found herself face to face with the blonde, who was watching her with a look of obvious disgust.

She thrust the pen in her hand, shoving her towards the desk.

"Sign your name! We've wasted enough time already."

She looked down at the paper, which was growing unexpectedly blurry. Could they really force her to sign? She swiped at her face, not even caring if her eye liner was smudged. Why had they come, now of all times? When okāsan was nowhere to be found? When her brother was who-knows-where? The hand holding the pen trembled, and she tightened her fingers around it. If she left the city, who knew what they would do to her? They could kill her and no one would be any wiser.

"I can't leave the city." Her voice, despite the tears, was strangely calm. "Sumomo is important..."

The Blonde snorted. "You aren't important. You're just one of many idols this city mass produced to alleviate this land's bankruptcy. Regardless, you won't be…" here she paused seeming to search for a word, "'entertaining' anymore," she finished finally, distaste written over her face. "Shinobi villages are hidden from the outside world. From now on, you don't exist."

Sumomo balked. To hear such a thing… her entire existence was based on being noticed. She couldn't imagine not being noticed. It was almost worse than being a wife. It was a double blow. She drew back from the desk, legs poised to run. They couldn't make her sign. The mayor had agreed, but she had not. They couldn't make her—

"If you care anything at all about this…'city'," the ninja woman spoke as if it were something foul, "then I suggest you sign that paper." A threat. Probably not the first she would receive, she thought angrily. Why should she be concerned with a city so willing to sell her off in the first place? And what about her brother? She hadn't seen him in over a year. What would he say when he arrived to find she'd been taken away? His only surviving relative? She shook her head, hands flying to her face in a helpless gesture.

"I don't understand-!"

Now the ninja woman looked annoyed. She shot her an irritated look, not even bothering to turn fully towards her.

"Of course you don't. It isn't necessary that you understand."

Sumomo gaped open-mouthed at the woman. How many times had she been told that? She was supposed to be cute and flighty and oblivious; even females found her adorable! People didn't want geisha who asked questions and seemed intelligent; it ruined the illusion. Until that moment, it had never really bothered her. Those words had always been spoken to her in indulgent tones of fondness and affection, but coming from the mouth of the ninja woman, they were the most derisive thing she'd ever heard.

And she hadn't even been trying to sound oblivious!

"Shichou-san…?" the mayor looked away.

"Sign the paper, Sumomo-san."

Was that it then, she wondered bitterly? That she could be snagged off the streets and given to these foreigners without even an explanation? Ninja foreigners, at that? Did she not even get a say? She'd never felt so helpless, so completely powerless over her own fate. She was an adult, a modern adult, and yet she felt as though she'd been transported to the feudal era. Who did these things anymore? And why her? It was so random, so…so arbitrary, that it did not even make sense. She was nothing special. She wasn't even the most sought after geisha. That title went to Yukari.

So why wasn't she here, instead of her?

It was wrong to think this way, but she felt only the vaguest sense of guilt over her self-preservation. It wasn't her fault she was in this situation…but what good would it do blaming others? She could do that later. Right now she needed to leave, to get away from here, and the quickest way through the door seemed to be signing the paper. Lawyers frequented the teahouse, and she'd been around enough of them to know that signing constituted a legally binding contract. But what of signing under duress? Was it the same thing? She couldn't remember, hadn't really been paying attention to the drunken babble of the lawyers at the time. But being forced into something like this…surely any official could get her out of it.

Except that the mayor himself was an official, and he was the one who'd gotten her involved.

The ninja woman was watching her, clearly impatient. Probably one step away from grabbing her hand and forcing her signature, she thought bitterly. She didn't want the ninja touching her again. The very idea sent her thoughts into fits of panic. So she lifted her chin, gathered around her her pride. Geisha do not show fear, she repeated silently, though she'd already thrown that ideology out the window. She would yield, like the bough of a willow.

She signed her name.

Albeit slowly. She half expected her brother to storm through the door, eyes blazing, cursing everyone to kingdom come. Or perhaps okāsan with her stooped form and icy tongue. Or better yet, a bolt of lightning would spontaneously strike down the nin or-

Nothing happened. The ninja woman snatched the paper away, rolling it up, biting the side of her thumb and pressing the bloodied appendage to rolled scroll before tucking it in the sash of her obi. There was a strange look on her face, and briefly, fleetingly, Sumomo got the idea that the woman was just as unhappy with the events as she herself was. Was it possible-?

But a moment later the feeling vanished, and the woman, realizing she was being watched, glared before turning away in an obvious dismissal.

"Dress for heat."

Sumomo felt as though she had just signed away her soul.

oOo

A/N: I'm by no means an expert on Japanese or geisha life; rather, most of the information on geisha I've gleaned from the books Geisha, a Life by Mineko Iwasaki, Geisha by Liza Dalby, Autobiography of a Geisha by Sayo Masuda, and various studies over the internet. It's a given that many things in this fic will be misrepresented, but at the same time, several things will be changed to better accommodate for the Naruto Universe. This is my first Naruto fic, and I'd love to hear what you think so far, so please review!