"Still no luck?" you asked, raising your head from under the fountain in disbelief. "Are we sure this guy even exists anymore?"
"That what I'm beginning to wonder senpai…" Satsuki frowned, wringing out a colorful kerchief. "People have heard of him, they just don't know much about him or where he's at. All I've been able to find out."
"Well, at least people have heard of him, hmmm…" Deidara rubbed the top of his walking stick with a thumb, tapping his foot in time to some mental beat. The last few days had been disappointing to say the least.
With a sigh, you slicked a hand through your short hair, pushing it out of the way even as rivulets of water streamed over your flushed cheeks, soaking your shoulders while making damp V-shaped patches down your front and back. The muggy weather hadn't let up, but rather, intensified over the next five days in the village. You'd been surprised, given how well the city seemed to be nestled in the side of the mountain. Showed how much you knew.
Just like in our search for Hijikata…you thought, watching Satsuki retie her scarlet kerchief round her hair. Despite splitting up and inquiring in many of the local bars and underground taverns, the three of you had only just begun to cover a fraction. Even then, you had to keep in mind the possibility that he might show up one evening at some of the same places you'd already gone through days prior. It was frustrating.
"Hnnn, what time is it, un?" Deidar muttered, seeming just as cross as you felt.
It must have been more of an effort than you realized to keep that last characteristic inflection out of his voice, seeing how he grew more and more short-tempered at the silliest things back at Satsuki's apartment. This included a number of rants on his natural way of talking and constantly being hunched over all the time, the latter of which Satsuki took to remedying with massages.
"Seven-ish." Satsuki answered, glancing at one of the many street clocks. "And I've seen enough bar fights to last me a lifetime." She added gloomily, sinking her chin into both hands.
"When was it we met last?" you asked, slightly dazed by how swift the day had run.
"Don't you remember anything?" Satsuki snapped.
"Yeah," you retorted with a roll of your eyes. "I remember plenty. Just not all at once."
"Three hours ago," Deidara straightened, a veritable frown cutting through the grey whiskers. "I… want food."
You gave him a dead-pan stare. "Are you always hungry?" It seemed as though directly after or near every break Deidara would insist upon getting something to eat. To you, it just seemed like another tactic to get you to do more of the leg work than him.
"Being an old man is hard work," Deidara grunted, putting a hand to the small of his back. "You try having most of your face weighed down with something like a fat, half-shaven ferret and tell me you don't have any problems with it…"
You snickered, scratching the back of your neck. "I'll keep that in mind if I ever decide to grow a beard."
"Shut up, already," Satsuki butt in, grabbing Deidara's free arm as she cast you a boiling glare. "And senpai isn't the only one who's starving; I am too and we're getting something to eat." She narrowed her eyes. "I suppose you want something as well?"
You didn't need a second glance to tell you that you weren't needed, wanted, or even optionally considered. You shrugged, not particularly disposed to sitting down for a meal. Deidara wouldn't care either way out of sheer misery for himself and his now loathsome choice of disguise. Being an old man with layers upon layers of clothes, a beard, and a hat to top it all off wasn't his idea of a picnic anymore.
"Not really. I'm just gonna keep checking around for info and meet you guys back at the apartment sometime tonight. And don't worry," you said catching Satsuki's glower. You swung your pack up onto a shoulder. "I won't be back until late if I can help it." You gave a two-finger salute, turning round. "Later."
"Good riddance!"
"Bye already, I'm not getting any younger."
At this last remark, you shook your head. Pretty soon he'll be belly-aching for a hot waterbottle and ointment, the way he goes on. Satsuki's clucking and fussing over Deidara quickly melted away in the noise of the street as you sauntered easily along, not really paying attention to where you were. After all, you'd found with your looks, you could go around and ask nearly anyone for directions.
While the girls made you blush in embarrassment as they tittered about how pretty a boy you made (a farce helped along by the bindings round your chest), several men did double-takes before treating you with a series of carefully spoken answers, still not quite sure of your true gender. It was both amusing and quite an interesting experiment. Your appearance was indistinguishable while your mannerisms and clothes were decidedly boyish. Though your voice seemed to toss any judgment spinning further in the air because of the feminine timbre of your speech. It was a game unlike any other that you'd played.
Catching a tavern sign from the corner of your eye, you made a bee-line for the entrance, asking several of patrons milling outside if they'd heard of a smith with a scar over his nose and by the name of Hijikata.
No, no one like that seemed to frequent this place. A smith? Why would a smith be caught drinking and carousing with a bunch of drunks; weren't they supposed to have more discipline than that? And hey, you seem like a person with a fair bit of time on your hands, why don't you step inside for a round?
"Well, thank you very much for the invitation but I'm afraid I'm in a hurry to find him. Have a good evening!" You shook your head and smiled disarmingly, backing away as you went. Another dead end. Again. Damn.
The disappointment was something you'd grown used to, but it was just the same everywhere you went! Running in circles didn't even begin to describe your feelings of frustration.
"Wait," you felt a sharp tug along the back of your shirt. "I know him. Big Bro Hijikata."
"Hunh?" you twisted around trying to get a look at a scruffy street urchin. You arched your brows in surprise. "You do?"
The boy bobbed his head up and down furiously. Your pulse began to quicken with excitement. So he does exist! This was just the break through you'd been hoping for! A dissenting voice in your head, the sensible voice which usually had free reign, mentioned that it would probably be a good idea to find the other two right about now.
"He gives some of my friends and me candy sometimes. When he's around East End. Doesn't like staying in any one place for more than a night."
The sensible voice grew anxious before being drowned out by urgency. There was no time to go galloping about after Deidara and Satsuki! The important thing was to get in touch with Hijikata. Kneeling down, you folded your hands along a thigh, wondering why a kid like this would be hanging around this kind of joint. "Can you show me where he is? I really need to talk with him."
"Yeah," the kid replied, curling a grubby hand around yours and tugging you down the street. "This way. He's at Fuwa's tonight."
Trotting down a series of alleys and side streets, giddy with relief at being able to make such progress, you pressed onward with the little urchin. A sort of eagerness shined in your eyes as you thought of finally getting somewhere for all your work in the past few days.
Weaving in and out among the crowd, the boy eventually headed for one of the stairs, going upward as he dragged you along. Your footsteps stuttered along the boardwalk as you made a note to keep away from the edge, even with its rail. You found that in making an acquaintance with Deidara, you'd grown increasingly nervous around places more than a story above ground. It had never been an issue before, but then, you hadn't been anywhere near horribly traumatized in the past.
Finally, it was outside a larger than average establishment, where a glowing neon sign proclaimed the place as "Fuwa's Den" that the urchin halted. Dropping your hand, he jerked a thumb at the building and held out an open palm in payment. You felt the corner of your mouth twitch as you rummaged around in your bag for some coins and bills.
As soon as the money left your fingers, he snapped up the change and was off down the boardwalk in seconds, dodging around people left and right. Shutting your own jaw, you blinked and returned your attention to the pub. You gulped a little nervously, glancing around for a bouncer.
Several of the classier establishments had employed bouncers, whose job it was to card any and all minors, but you remembered that there were a series of rougher places where it was come one, come all. Technically, you wouldn't be legal for another few months. Also, technically speaking, you also didn't have any ID to speak of which would explain your presence as a non-spy in Iwagakure. And you'd seen some of the shinobi in this village… They'd be on you like flees on a dog if they figured you for an outsider from another Hidden Village…
You shuddered at the possibility of showing up mangled and dead somewhere on the mountainside. Then again, with all this illegality and criminal activity part of your conscience prodded at you, complaining that you hadn't been terribly good enough to balance things out, so why not start now?
But if I leave, we might not be able to locate Hijikata again for days or even weeks! But then, from what that kid says, it seems like he has a rotation going…
You hesitated, torn by indecision as you stared fixedly at the door. For at least ten minutes you stood there, reaching for the knob and then letting your hand fall back to your side. After several attempts, you felt the presence of a small crowd as they watched you, amused or simply curious about what you were up to. Tremors started to carry through your limbs.
You reached for the knob again, stopped, and froze; taken once more inexplicably taken by nerves. You were never this wishy-washy usually but-
"You underage there, boy?" someone called out behind you, apparently getting bored with your display.
As you whipped around to bark at the bothersome pest, you heard the knob jangle and the door pop open as you turned swiftly back, much to your regret.
Colliding with the door, you yelped in shock. Pain lanced through your nose and forehead as you stumbled back, grabbing at your nose and moaning in white hot agony even as a huge fist snatched at the front of your shirt and yanked you toward the inky darkness. Words didn't even begin to register until after you'd suffered a few bone jarring shakes as some abominably loud and swollen voice clouted you over the head with angry brays,
"-this him, hunh? This the little bastard you've been using to cheat at? Well, I'll show him and you both what cheats get ya, using the windows for signals!"
You choked as the balled mass of a fist lifted you higher, curling into your throat until you were gasping as blood poured from your nose. You squinted through one eye, now scrabbling at the giant's hands as you tried to squeak out an explanation that this was all a mistake and that you were just looking for someone! You recoiled in horror as another meaty fist entered your vision, heading straight for your jaw, and lashed out at the man's head with a poorly aimed but powerful kick.
In a rush you were in a heap on the floor as the man stumbled, and now you saw a second figure behind him, still clutching the splintered remains of a wooden stool. You gulped on blood and scrabbled away under a table as the man righted himself and spun in a whirl of fists, bellowing like an enraged bull as he laid the second figure flat. The shattering of glass became a bell, instantly sending people every which way with flailing limbs, drunken battle cries, and whole pieces of furniture that would soon be turned to kindling.
Your head spun as you rolled away while a pair of wrestlers crashed into a table, leveling the thing. The dim lighting, already shrouded in smoke and patches of darkness, became even dimmer as patrons took out more lamps in their rush to get at opponents, invisible and solid alike.
Flipping onto your hands and knees, your stunned mind urged you to get out of the way, crawling toward the counter in hopes of to taking cover with the barmaid and a few waitresses as a barman disappeared into some hatch in the floor. Swiping at your dripping nose, you felt your heart hammer and hiccup as you came within feet of making the counter. A yelp sprang out of your throat as someone landed a foot in your ribs, forcing you onto your side and into a puddle of glass. The shards bit into your shoulder like teeth, addling your mind even further with the blinding pain.
Instinctively, you lifted your head upward as, skittering back up and diving at the shadowy frame wielding a couple kunai and a feral grin. The man went down, air whooshing out of his lungs, as he cracked his head on a table. Sucking in any oxygen in wild heaves, you pried the kunai from his fingers and stood up on wobbly legs, clutching your side as your breath started to become uneven and panicked.
Your throat felt swollen and your now ripped collar seemed to strangle as you parried an anonymous lunge with your arm, grasping the offender by his shirt and slamming him face first into the counter. A vicious rage bubbled through your veins and the pain numbed into nothing as you went after people left and right, laying some out flat while struggling with others more sober and formidable than their inebriated counterparts.
A slash along your wrist was nothing compared to the double-handed blow to the stomach or the roundabout kick which swept others off their feet in abrupt surprise. You ground your teeth as you howled and hissed, taking on anyone who dared to come your way. All around it was every man for himself; you felt both sickened and invigorated by it, battling to survive and surviving to battle.
"Enough with you, you filthy bastards! Do you want to demolish the place or do you want a place to drink? I said 'Enough'! Brawl's over!" Someone barked.
You grunted in astonishment as your arm ground to a halt as an iron fist curled around it. You blinked, at once afraid of what would happen if this stranger didn't let go and afraid of what would happen if he did. The glint of the kunai sent a shudder through you as you realized what happened.
Stunned, you let them sink to the floor, both vibrating into stillness while your hand shook from both your grip and after effects of adrenaline. A quiet chuckle purred out of your captor's throat as he grinned at you. He nodded at the kunai on the floor.
"Future note, kid. Never bring a knife to a fist fight. Rest of the boys'll be on ya before you open your mouth. Here now…Ah, shit."
You didn't resist as he lowered your arm, taking a better peak at your face. He whistled. You coughed, bringing up a cut up hand to shield your mouth. All around, bodies were groaning and whimpering as people helped one another up, offering rough pats on the back and weary chuckles. Somehow the world had returned to normal and left you out on the arrangement.
"They did you a good turn this time around, kid. First bar fight?"
When you lifted your head again, you were vaguely bemused by the rough grin on the strangers face with his pierced and bleeding lip and winking dark eyes. You didn't protest as you were led under a lamplight and the man sucked in a sharp breath in sympathy.
"Bloodied you real good…"
You blinked weakly, noting the fiery red locks and the punkish cut of his hair as it framed an angular face. He snapped his fingers at someone, beckoning them to bring something over. More piercings lined and punctured his ears, making for a twinkling array of silver to match the spread of thin chains and necklaces draped along his throat.
"Woah there, let's get you a chair or somethin'" he muttered, pulling one up off the floor. Craning a long neck over his shoulder, he forced you down into the seat and called to one of the waitresses. "Yeah, Yoko can you bring some more water out? Kid's worse off than the usual. Doesn't look like anything's broken though the way he shuffles around like an old guy." He chuckled and leaned down to look at you. "Hangin' in all right? You haven't said a word."
You let your head bob up and down of its own will rather than any conscious effort. At the moment, you were just trying to piece together who you were, where and why you were in here, and most importantly, what the hell had just happened? You could already feel the swelling begin to creep up your cheeks and the aches returned with a vengeance. The metallic taste in your mouth grew as you checked around for any loose teeth. You never got beat up like this.
"Here," you felt a warm cloth slide over your cheek, wiping away the sticky redness with a sureness that reminded you of Rei. Rei…
Putting a hand up to the soothing hand, you coughed feebly,
"Rei?"
A low chuckling told you that it couldn't possibly be Rei. The chuckle reminded you of someone though. Someone aggravating. …Deidara? You really wanted some sort of painkiller right then. A hand clamped itself around your mouth as you began to pray in earnest that someone familiar would just come up and give you a hug and please, please, please make the world stop spinning. You felt sick.
"You're not gonna lose your cookies are ya? Doin' so well 'til now."
When you gave a numbed nod, leaning over the side of the chair, a strong hand pulled you back and shoved a bucket onto your lap. In the middle of sputtering 'Thank you', you stopped, swallowing hard to keep down the bile that seemed busy as it built in your throat.
It was about ten minutes later, with someone attending to your soaked shoulder, carefully plucking out the glass that you managed to open your eyes fully and begin to comprehend your current situation. Lifting your head from the still empty bucket, you turned to look through your fringe at the punk lounging against the counter as a waitress –Yoko? – took on the task of stitching you up. She gave you a kind smile.
"You're doing wonderfully."
You furrowed your brows, frowning as you briefly pondered being pampered like a little kid and then caught your- well, you guessed you could call him 'savior'- your savior's eye as he turned back with a laugh from a joke by the bartender.
"Hey," he tossed his chin at you, arms crossed. Tattoos coursed all the way up his elbows to his shoulders and disappeared into his rough and tumble vest.
"Hey…" you responded with as much nonchalance as you could muster.
"Feeling better?"
"I'm feeling."
"Well, that's an improvement," he grinned, nodding while his entire body seemed to bob in time to the motion.
"Not really," you dissented, bringing around your free hand in jerky movements around to the rim of the bucket. You clutched at it momentarily, squeezing your eyes shut before peeling them open once more. "Not with the pain."
He snickered. "A lesson learned, then."
You pushed your bangs out of your face and glowered at him from just above your bucket. "Like I was looking for one." you sniped.
Even as your eyes widened, you caught him stiffen as he tilted his head to the side, eyebrows raised in astonishment. A crooked grin crept onto his features as the light play with his features, almost making his eyes glint with mischief.
"Sharp mouth for a nice face, kid."
You pointed a bent finger at him. Wrapping your mouth around polysyllables was more difficult than you remembered.
"Hijikata. The smith. Am I right?"
He nodded even as he expressed mild surprise with the knit of his brows.
"You want something from me?"
You offered up your own wry smile.
"Just a chat." You tapped the bridge of your nose. "Nice scar by the way."
"Hunh," Hijikata straightened up, squaring his shoulders. "Well, if you want a chat that's fine, if you want a drink, that's good too; but if it's business, then you'll just have to give me something to work for, boy."
"Fine then," you winced as Yoko dug for a deep fragment. Glancing up, you returned with light-hearted defiance. "I challenge you, for your services."
Hijikata ducked his head. "And I accept. Sure you can handle me, short stuff?"
"Hell yeah," you snickered, albeit faintly. "Since you're the challenged what's the game and name your prize. You know mine already." Your eyes fluttered. Short stuff? Gods, I'm not that much of a kid…
He shifted, rolling his shoulders panther-like. The way he parted his lips with just a corner of pink jutting out from the side suddenly gave you a feeling reminiscent of your views on flying. The bottom of your stomach seemed to drop out from under in a vomit-inducing void.
"Drinking," he bit off. "Whoever downs the most shots without keeling, wins. First one to go down, unconscious, dead, or dying, is out. And I believe my good friend Tanaka here," he jerked a thumb at the brawny bartender. "Has some of the strongest stuff in Iwa available for our consumption. Still sure you don't want to back out?"
You nodded, clenching your jaw as Yoko dabbed at your shoulder with burning alcohol and sewed another stitch. This wasn't good. You'd probably just as good as lost liked to drink occasionally but the most you'd ever knocked back was up to five or six shots, and that was pacing yourself with water and time on the side. Nothing straight in a row like he was proposing… Your liver was going to hate you for a long, long time.
"We'll get this over with tonight." You ground out. Even the words tasted sour already.
"Over eager much?"
You flapped a hand. "Either way, tomorrow I'm going to be in pain. Let's knock it all out in one go."
He smirked. "All right then. And now the prize, if I win…"
You swallowed apprehensively, refusing to let him see. Your mind clamored to prop up some sort of mental argument that he'd just ask you to cover the drinks, but somehow, you couldn't quite convince yourself. There'd been something lascivious in that smirk. You felt more aware than ever that you were still quite biologically female even if you did a high-quality job in hiding it. There's no way he could know… Or maybe…
"You cover the tab."
You exhaled slowly, allowing relief to flood through you r system without letting it surface on your face. You flinched as another zinger of pain lanced through your arm. See? There's no way he swings that way. Too macho and shi-
"And spend tomorrow night with me."
You choked on your own spit. Coughing violently and aided by a few harsh pounds between the shoulder blades, you turned your eyes back onto the smug-face Hijikata, who lounged against the bar counter, pleased as pie with himself.
"W-what?" you spluttered. "B-but I-I-I-I'm a guy!"
You clutched at the lie like a talisman, desperate and despairing as you held it up in verbal placation. Your nails dug into the wood of the pail as your knuckles grew white. A wavering flame of hope, or rather, fervent wishing ignited underneath all the bindings in your chest.
"Oh? Didn't you know?" Hijikata just cocked an eyebrow. "I play for both teams."
The flame winked out.
