The village hidden in the leaves had thick gates that had swung open to reveal a long sandy coloured dirt track that led steadily into the crowded streets.
It was the first time the wanderer had set her eyes on the bright obtrusive gates since her father had died. Her memory fogged as she tried to remember. She was rewarded only with splashes of vivid colour; rich reds and simmering oranges.
The trees surrounded her, their sightless eyes surveying her as if waiting for her to stray too close. Risa wished, not for the first time, that she had paid more attention when her father had traded. Her over curious, buoyant childhood actions had put her in this situation. She had not been prepared when her father had struck ill and fallen, too soon for help to arrive.
She inhaled the thick forest air and shook the unwanted thoughts from her mind. There was no room for weakness in a trader, a wanderer. The weak find no shelter, eat no food and live no life. Her father had been tough, smart and street-savvy. Sometimes he had even bartered them a warm, comfortable place to stay in the villages they passed.
It had been a year since she had said goodbye, to her father and their way of life. She had meant to find a village to settle down in, somewhere she could always have a roof over her head and soft blankets wrapped around her. No one had wanted her, an orphaned child who couldn't do anything but trade information.
Risa's sturdy pack held firmly to her stiff coat, it's straps wrapped under her arms firmly, hugging her body well enough to outlast whatever bad conditions she encountered. Villagers bustled about, bumping and prodding into the young girl, sending her spinning.
Her eyes roamed the buildings and people passing her, soaking in every detail. Clutching at her heavy brown cloak, she watched two girls wearing skirts that covered nothing and skimpy white tops exposing their cleavage. They bounced past her, giggling, their long blonde hair swaying like a tree branch in hard wind.
A drop of sweat rolled down her long neck, the suns rays stroked her cheeks giving her tanned brown skin a pink tinge. She felt like a weed in a bed of flowers. Her bulky, figure eliminating cloak pulled at her shoulders like weights. Shuffling out of the way, the girl's fingers slid down, flicking the buttons open.
The buildings shadow enveloped her, the humid air brushed against her bare skin, tickling it with coolness. The cheap white cloth that covered her chest in a cross exposed her smooth, muscled stomach. Across her hips the thin fabric wrapped around her body and stopped halfway down her firm thighs.
Risa's arms tugged at her sides in a half-hearted attempt to cover herself again. Her breath shuddered. She closed her eyes and shook her head, as if that would shake loose the nervousness itching at her skin.
Stepping out of the shadow the voices of those around her rose in a clutter of words impossible to make out. Footsteps thudded and dust swirled. Nothing had changed; no one stopped to gape wide eyed at her. There were no shouts of alarm, no snickers or sneers.
The travelling girl's full lips opened slightly, revealing her pearl white teeth. She told herself that it would alright and then she entered, with another step, the mid morning rush. She hurried, dodging and ducking as if she spent her whole life avoiding stampedes. Risa was in full fledged trader mode.
A giant pink sign hung to the right of the arched entryway, potted plants scattered along the wall to either side, in tufts of glossy green. The shop was empty except for the young girl sitting behind the counter, a look of pure boredom on her face. Flowers in all shades of colour filled the interior like a dazzling array of lights.
"Welcome," said the blonde clerk. She rose from her slumped position and plastered a smile across her face. Her sky blue eyes sparkled as Risa stopped in front of the counter. "You're not from around here, are you?"
"No," said Risa. "I'm from the Wind Country originally."
"The Wind Country?" her voice was distant, dreamy. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm a traveller," Risa said. "I'm here to offer you some information." She paused, leaning closer. "For a price."
"Information? What kind of information?" The blonde leaned across the table, her eyes sparkling.
Risa's lip twitched, she had her hooked. "Some information that would make this business very popular." She swept her eyes over the empty shop as if it should be gleaming with people.
"How much would this information cost?" asked the girl.
"Ten thousand yen, non negotiable."
The blonde's eyes widened considerably. Risa slipped her backpack off and pulled out a single piece of folded paper. She slid the paper across the counter. "Give this to the owner and tell them if they want to know the location of these flowers they'll have to pay."
The clerk nodded and took the paper, unfolding it as she hurried into the back room. A few minutes later she emerged with a woman, an older version of the blonde clerk. The woman leant against the counter, the sheet in her hand. "You know where these grow wild?"
Risa nodded. "That's right. Not far from here in a patch of untouched forest. It's surrounded by thick underbrush and has only one entrance."
"Why didn't you take them yourself?"
She shrugged. "I'm not a florist. I'm just a simple information trader. I don't have the resources for such a trip."
The shop owner sighed, nodded and reached under the counter. A bag of coins clanged as she dropped them. Risa weighed them in her hands, judging the amount. She slipped her hand into her pack again and pulled out another sheet of paper. She handed it over to the woman, who took it from her instantly, skimming through the directions. "Alright, thank you."
Risa bowed politely, placed the money into her back pack and swept out of the flower shop. The flow of people had faded, the streets more easily navigated. Stomach rumbling, she ordered some sweet dumplings from the dango store.
She popped the last one into her mouth and savoured the nearly sickly sweetness. "Ruff." Something yanked at the edge of her cloak. Risa glanced down, her green eyes wide. A scruffy white dog looked up at her, it's small fluffy tail wagging happily. "Oh," she murmured, leaning down and scratching behind it's ears. "Hello there, little doggy!'
The dog barked and pushed it's wet black nose into her leg. It's big eyes stared up at her pleadingly. "Aww. Do you want something, boy?" His fluffy white tail thumped as if in affirmation. "Are you hungry?" He barked again, his muzzle lifting to the sky.
"Alright," she said. With a shrug of the shoulder, her backpack plopped next to the hungry puppy. He watched her with big black eyes as she slid her hand into the darkness and fumbled. Her hands pulled the soft, smooth object from her pack. Inside the clear plastic wrapping were slices of dried beef. The dog's tail wagged enthusiastically.
She started to unwrap the plastic under the puppy's watchful gaze. "Hey Miss!" the voice was distant, she paid it no attention. "Excuse me." A tap on her shoulder.
Her hands clenching around the dried beef, she threw her head over her shoulder. A man towered above her, she recognised his uniform. She stood and turned to the dango shop clerk. He smiled a warm smile. "Sorry to disturb you but you didn't get your change."
"Oh," she said softly. "Thank you."
The clerk dropped the lose change into her spare hand, bowed and returned back to the shop. Her green eyes were still wide as she turned back. The dog was gone. She craned her neck around but there was no tell tale fuzzy white fur. The dog had given up on her and had left to find food elsewhere.
She decided the dog was probably happily eating something and had forgotten all about her. Dogs were free and wandering spirits like her and her father had been. Risa loved the freedom of travelling but it offered her little companionship. She hadn't had friends since she was younger, when she didn't realise she would move on and never see them again.
Once she met a little boy and had played with him all day, the memory was fuzzy, partially remembered from her childhood. He had watched her leave from the big gates, the same gates she would be leaving by soon. He had had a look in his eyes, a knowing reluctance, when the younger Risa had waved and smiled and told him she'd be back.
Risa dropped the dried beef and spare change into her bag and flipped the top over, her eyes were clouded and unseeing. She slipped one arm through the loop and tugged it upwards with a grunt. Was it her imagination or was her pack heavier than before? She shook it off – it was probably the dumplings making her soft, or the weighty thoughts nibbling at her skull.
She didn't look back as she trudged towards the massive gates. People danced about her, they wore many styles of clothing in all the colours possible and maybe some that weren't. One girl was smiling, catching the sun on her teeth and nudging at her friend strolling by her side. As they came closer their voices rose.
"Did you hear about what happened to Jun?"
"No!" the friend gasped. "What did he do this time?"
They passed her and their voices faded, indistinguishable from the other villagers walking the pathway. With every step she came closer to the forest and further away from Konoha and it's vibrant people. As soon as she stepped through those gates she'd be a wanderer again, with no friends, no home, she'd never know what 'silly thing Jun had done this time'.
Her mind drifted to the little boy, standing in the gate's enormous shadow, watching her as she left him behind. Did he remember that moment like she did or had he forgotten completely? Did she leave his mind as soon as she left his sight? She knew it shouldn't matter whether or not he knew her, she'd never see him again after all. But the memory clawed at her, trying to force to stop, stop moving, stop walking, don't go, don't leave me again.
Risa's gaze followed the gate up and up and up. A long red beam hung high above her casting her in shadow, the same shadow. Again the image, clearer now; deep brown eyes, messy dirt coloured hair, lips tugging downwards. "I'll be back," she had told him. "Goodbye Kiba."
She rolled her shoulders and something in her bag shuffled backwards, she stumbled but caught herself before she could lose her footing. A frown creased her delicate brow. What would move like that? She didn't remember having anything heavy in her pack and all she had gotten today was a bag of coins.
"Hey you!" a shout from behind. "You stole my dog!"
Curious, Risa turned. She couldn't imagine anything worse then dognapping. It would be heartbreaking for the owner. A boy with a black artificial mane that looked like a wolf's ran towards the gate. But the only one anywhere near the gate was her. He couldn't think she stole his dog, could he?
His pupils were thin and slit, giving him an animalistic impression and they narrowed at Risa. "Give me back my dog, you thief!"
"I'm sorry." She smiled politely. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't play dumb," his voice was low, almost a growl.
Risa gasped. Did he really think she stole his dog? That she would lie about it to his face?
"You stuffed him into your backpack." He pointed his finger, framed with the same fake black fur, at her. "I saw his head poking out," his voice was harsh, like a wolf challenging an outsider and defending the pack.
Did he really think –
"Look," she said. "I didn't steal your dog." She shrugged her bag off her shoulder and held it out in front of her. She flipped opened the flap. Two big black eyes blinked up at her.
"Ruff!"
She stared at the little fluffy dog curled snug against her things. Plastic wrapper hung from his teeth. There was no sign of the dried beef. His tail thumped against the fabric and he seemed to grin, like a doggy 'caught red handed' expression.
Risa looked up at the boy, wide eyed. "I didn't... I didn't know," she said. He folded his hands against his chest. "I'm sorry."
She opened the bag as wide as she could and stepped out of the shadows, towards the dog's owner. The dog yapped, kicked out and flew into the boys waiting arms. He stumbled back from the force, his grey hood fell off his head. There were two red triangles stretched down his cheeks, like fangs. Like fangs.
He memory was perfect now; the boy in the shadows, watching, waiting, the boy with fangs down his cheeks. "I'll be back," she had told him.
"Kiba?" her voice shook. "Is that you?"
The puppy barked, slipping into his jacket. His narrow eyes ran over her from head to toes. His eyebrow arched, Risa's heart rattled in it's cage. Moments past. Her fingers twitched. Had he forgotten? He didn't know her, of course he didn't. Why should he? She was just little, naïve. She was alone, always alone. A wanderer with no home and no friends.
His eyes took on the same look, that knowing glint. "Risa," her name flowed from his lips, like silk; smooth and beautiful.
