In case you've forgotten: Rat-67=Takashi=Mamoru, Tiger-19=Tenzou (Yamato)=Seiichi, Naruto=Yuji, Mae=Hiromi
Seiichi scowled at his brother as he crouched to make their eyes level, ignoring the breeze blowing his bangs into his eyes. "Open your mouth, you brat." He kept a firm grip on the boy's arm; he had already had to chase him down the gangplank and didn't want him running any further.
Yuji's big brown eyes gleamed with guile as he shook his head and shuffled his sandalled feet on the worn pier planks. Gulls shrieked despite the southern sea's attempt to shush them as the few fishing boats not out at sea for the day made their mooring lines creak as they rocked on the waves.
"Open your mouth. Spit it out."
Yuji smiled big, his lips sealed together.
"I'll tell Mom."
Yuji's smile faltered.
"And she'll tell Dad."
Pouting, Yuji tipped his head forward and spat the metal nut into Seiichi's palm. It was liberally covered in saliva, but that was probably a good thing since Seiichi didn't have any water with him to rinse his brother's mouth out. He wiped the nut off on his pants and headed back on board, Yuji at his heels, to pass it back to his friend Kin, who had been cleaning some equipment on the schooner when Yuji had struck.
"Your brother's gross."
Seiichi wiped his hand on his pants. "Yeah, he is."
"I am not!" Yuji whacked the back of Seiichi's thigh hard, but the might of a five-year-old was pitiful compared to what their dad could dish out during secret training.
"Sure you are, squirt," Kin, an apprentice fisherman and deckhand, insisted. "What kind of sophisticated, ungross person puts a rusty nut in their mouth?"
"It's the best hiding spot!"
Seiichi face-palmed as Kin arched an eyebrow. "What?"
"You're not leaving without me this time! I'm coming! I'll catch the biggest fish and gut it. But you can't leave without me. You can't leave without that piece."
Seiichi and Kin shared weary looks. "Sure, kid. But I've got it now, so you've got nothin'."
Yuji smiled that suspiciously closed-lipped smile again and made to dash off, but Seiichi snagged the back of his shirt before he had gotten two steps. It wouldn't do to be too fast in front of civilians.
Seiichi knelt again and cupped his palm back in front of Yuji's face. "Out with it, brat."
Mamoru put his other arm behind his back and began counting out his one-armed pushups anew.
"You're going to stink up the house with your sweat," Hiromi sniped from the kitchen.
"You've got the window over the sink open," he said with well-worn calm.
"And the breeze stinks of fish."
"Uh-huh." Twenty-two. Twenty-three…
"And I bet you don't even know where the boys are."
"Uh-huh." Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight…
"You didn't pick up any gin for me, did you?"
"Uh-huh." Thirty-three. Thirty-four…
"We're having sashimi again."
"Uh-huh." Thirty-six…
"Can we please have sex?"
He rolled his eyes. "Uh-uh."
Long association and careful observation made him certain she was doing the same. "What's the point of maintaining muscle definition if nobody gets to appreciate it? Wouldn't it feel nice to have someone smooth her fingers over the dips and planes—?"
"Hiromi."
"Wouldn't it feel good to have nails raking over your back?"
"Hiromi."
"I know it would be nice to watch the shadows play over the—"
"Goddammit, woman, you're making me lose count!"
She snorted. "I'll shut up if you let me cut your hair and shave that patchy excuse for overgrown stubble off."
"Done. Now be quiet. The boys will be home soon."
"Does turning on the radio count as being quiet?"
"You know it does. So long as you're not talking, you're quiet."
As always, she had the battered device tuned to a classical music station, one that favoured traditional instruments like the biwa (her favourite) over the violin and such that were becoming so popular for movie music.
The boys broke their peace. Yuji was hollering (as he often was) that he would prove himself in one way or another, and Seiichi was crunching up the gravel path in his wake. "We're back," Yuji announced as he kicked off his sandals and swooped in to hug Hiromi's leg.
She set aside her cleaver and wiped her hands on a rag before ruffling his genjutsu-brown hair with a smile as he grinned up at her. "Welcome back."
Seiichi, as always, tidied up Yuji's sandals before taking off his own and padding across the kitchen to stand before Mamoru.
The team leader shook his hair out of his eyes and glanced up at the fifteen-year-old. "So?"
"Nothing unusual. He put strange things in his mouth again."
"Niichan!"
"You did what?" said Hiromi, falling to her knees and prying Yuji's mouth open despite his inarticulate protests and the futile stink-eye he aimed at his brother. "Seiichi, get me a glass!"
With a sigh, the older boy obeyed Hiromi, swiping a cup from the cupboard and filling it with water before putting it into the woman's shaking hands.
"Take a mouthful, Yuji. Swish it around your mouth."
"Mom!"
"Take a mouthful!"
Groaning, the young boy glared at his brother before caving and spitting the water into the sink when prompted. The process was repeated until the boy was using warm salt water and wailing about how awful his mother was. Only then did she relent.
"You don't go sticking strange things in your mouth, Yuji! Who knows where they have been!"
"Yes, Mom."
"Go to your room," Mamoru rumbled, sitting cross-legged against the wall now that he had finished his last set.
"But, Dad!"
"Your room, Yuji. We have lots of secret work to do tonight. Take a nap."
Groaning, Yuji stumbled from the room and stomped up the stairs.
Yuji curled up on his futon. Stupid tattletale brother.
He really did want to go out with the fishermen this year and show them all. He really would catch a big fish. But Mom said no. Dad said absolutely not. Seiichi-niichan just shook his head.
They didn't understand though. Just because he was afraid of the big water of the sea, he had to go out onto it and show it that he was the boss. Something in him cringed with terror when the storms brought the big waves to beat the beaches and splinter the piers. Those big waves carried huge logs that they threw high up onto the shore, so high that Yuji had never seen seaweed or high tide touch those places.
Yuji needed to stand in the middle of those waves and snarl loudly and bare his teeth.
When he'd told his father this, Dad had smiled the twinkly eyed smile that meant he was laughing on the inside and had said, "Is that so?"
Dad was quiet most of the time and you had to look really hard to see his chuckles, his grins, and his full-bellied laughs when they weren't out in public or with his work friends. They were all in the creases around his eyes and the twinkle in them. Only Mom could make him bring the laughter into the air at home when they had no guests.
Yuji had always had the impression that Mom wasn't supposed to be there. He wasn't sure what it had come from other than a sketchy memory of Mom shouting at Dad while Yuji clung to her leg and refused to let her go, but every now and then he was reminded of it. It was the way Dad and Seiichi-niisan would nod behind Mom's back and talk more when the three of them were out in the woods doing secret training while Mom slept back at home. However, Yuji was glad Mom was still with them. She made the house warm even when she and Dad were fighting because she fought loudly while Dad fought with silence.
Seiichi-niichan would always keep him out of their way when they were in the middle of a hurricane argument. His brother was the best, even if he was a tattletale and was a daddy's boy. Niichan had assured him many times that Yuji was the momma's boy.
"Yuji."
Speak of the meanie. "G'way. I'm napping."
"If you're napping, you shouldn't be replying. I'm coming in."
Yuji scowled and crossed his arms as a greeting to his brother and the light the opening door brought in from the hallway. His frown faltered when he saw that Niichan had brought the magic talking diary.
"Shh!" Seiichi warned him, a finger pressed against his lips.
Yuji pressed his hands over his mouth until Niichan closed the door and settled beside him on the bed. Seiichi set the pot of ink carefully beside the futon, locking his eyes on Yuji, who nodded, silently promising not to knock the bottle over. Brother gave him the brush to hold while he flipped through the worn pages full of Niichan's entries. Yuji wasn't supposed to read those since there was stuff about the girls he had crushes on and about the bad stuff he and Kin had gotten up to when he wasn't with Yuji, which wasn't often. Niichan stuck to him like a burr unless Dad was with him.
"Did you write to the book genie?" Yuji whispered when Seiichi set the book down in front of him, two blank pages glowing in the dim light.
"I told him about how you're afraid of the ocean."
Yuji scowled again. "Why would you do that, butthead?"
"Because the genie's always interested in you. He likes to hear about these things. It lets him know that he should be afraid of the ocean too if he ever escapes the book. You're teaching him things."
Yuji grunted.
With a grin, Seiichi reclaimed the brush. "You promise you won't ever tell Mom or anyone else about the book? Ever?"
"I promise." Yuji always had to promise whenever Niichan brought the book out. It was their big secret. Yuji wasn't even sure Dad knew about the genie book, and Dad usually knew everything about Seiichi.
Niichan dipped the brush into the ink, brushed the excess off on the inside of the bottle's opening, and scrawled out the familiar phrase 'And what do you think?' on the top of the page.
Words appeared, lots of words. The characters were mostly kanji, but Niichan would help Yuji figure them out.
Hello again, Seiichi-kun. I am glad to hear from you. I am glad that the kekkei genkai is obeying you better now. Keep working at it. We will begin lessons on how to make the beast sit soon. I need to find a special necklace for you. It will make things easier. It will take some doing to capture it though. It is guarded by a fierce warrior woman and said to be cursed.
"Wow," whispered Yuji, glancing up at his brother. "Genie-san is going to teach you magic?"
"A special technique."
"Would Dad know it?"
"No, it's something only I can do."
Yuji's eyes widened. Seiichi could do a couple things that Dad couldn't, like making trees obey him. Seiichi-niichan was so cool. "And you get a cursed necklace. How is Genie-san going to get it for you?"
"With his magic, of course."
It is interesting to hear that Yuji-kun is afraid of the ocean. Kushina-chan never said anything like that, but she received it later on and didn't spend much time near the water.
"Who's Kushina-chan?" Genie-san mentioned her every once in a while.
"She's a kid like you. Genie-san talked to her too. He doesn't now."
"How come?"
"Because we've got the book."
That made sense.
Yuji-kun is very brave to want to go out fishing despite this fear. I would tell him to wait until he is a little older though. Five is very grown up, but ten is even more grown up. A boy with ten years will catch an even bigger fish even more easily. It will be more impressive if he waits. Patience is rewarding. He will be six soon. And then seven. And then eight. And then nine.
And then…
And then…
Ten!
Yuji grinned.
Have you been to the city recently? Will you go for the festival? Maybe they will have lots of fireworks. I know your village has festivals for your temple and you have fireworks then, but the city can afford bigger ones. Tell your father to take you. Take very good care of your brother, Seiichi. The city can be big and frightening. It is easy to get lost or disappear. But there are many things to see. So many different people, with skins whiter than Seiichi's and golden or red hair or skins darker brown than even your mother's with curlier black hair. Sometimes, they have their hair in thousands of tiny braids. You might find a person with green or blue eyes. Maybe even a person with purple or red eyes if you look very hard.
Yuji couldn't imagine this. His mother was one of the strangest looking people in their village with her curly brown-black hair cropped near her scalp (only old Ramon-san looked weirder with his dreadlocks), but even she had brown eyes. Everyone had brown eyes. Kin's were not 'amber', no matter how much he insisted they were. And everyone had brown or black hair. "For real? Someone can have yellow hair?"
Niichan burst out laughing for some reason. "Yes, Yuji, people can have blond hair."
"What's so funny?"
Niichan just shook his head and turned back to Genie-san's words.
Yuji-kun, I hope you are working hard at your secret training and keeping it secret. Seiichi-kun tells me that you have learned all the handseals already. Keep practicing them. See how quickly you can run through the sequences your father will teach you. The faster you are, the better. Kushina-chan used to run through every sequence six times as fast as she could on the way to school. She was very strong.
You must tell me of anything interesting that happens. Work hard, both of you!
Seiichi rewetted his brush and wrote the closing sequence that made the words disappear as though they had never been there. "Did you want me to write something for you?"
Yuji took a deep breath in preparation for all the words he had stored up.
Hiruzen strolled through the village, its restive peace filling him with a temporary haze of contentment. It was always good to be able to communicate with Tenzou-kun and Naruto-kun. With every passing year, Tenzou-kun made it obvious that Naruto-kun took after his mother more in mannerisms despite how closely his looks had matched his father's. From the sound of things, Naruto-kun and Tenzou-kun were being well taught by Takashi-kun. Hiruzen had to wonder if Takashi-kun would be willing to drop out of ANBU for a time upon returning to take on a genin team. The agent was old enough, after all. If he was not going to have children and pass on his line that way, then it would be best to give him official students.
There were other established bachelors and bachelorettes that had contributed to the village in this way when they had shown themselves reluctant to settle down. And, wonder of wonders, some of them had miraculously settled down in truth in the course of mentoring.
The restive quality of the street notched up. Malevolence, awe, and determined ignorance met Hiruzen as he glanced around at others walking the thoroughfare. He knew this pattern well. He turned around and smiled at the Uchiha approaching him.
The Uchiha was shorter than expected, but then, Itachi-kun had yet to reach his growth spurt. He looked haunted, but the boy always did when he returned from a mission where he had had to fight, which was most missions. Kumo hadn't taken Konoha's deliberately shoddy peace offering well those two years ago. Skirmishes had continued along the eastern edges of the northern boarder, often quite bloody. Even an eleven-year-old that had just been promoted to chuunin for his efficiency despite his pacifistic nature could not be spared.
"Hokage-sama," Itachi-kun said, bowing shortly to him, which only made those determinedly ignoring the Uchiha frown more deeply.
"Itachi-kun. Your timing is fortunate. I'm heading to your house. Would you accompany me?"
"Of course, Hokage-sama." Itachi-kun fell into step beside him. "Was all well in the village while I was away?"
"As well as could be expected with your absence. Your brother was quite lonely."
The beginning of a smile curved the boy's lips. "There were no… incidents at the compound, though?"
Hiruzen shook his head. "No real vandalism other than more graffiti with the usual slurs near the gates. I am sorry I cannot keep the incidents from occurring entirely."
"Sparing ninja to prevent the petty strikes is a bit of a waste."
Hiruzen smiled. Yes, this boy was the genius he had been named. If not for the blatant mistrust the village held towards the Uchiha, the boy would have been a clear candidate for Hokage along with Uchiha Shisui, though the latter was more of a fighter than a thinker or a planner.
"Was the unrest concerning my father's position within the Military Police settled?"
Hiruzen sighed. "For now, yes. This isn't the first time they have struck at him, though this is the most determined of the attempts, save the one that occurred nearly six years ago. The hatred was at its freshest then."
"You do believe us, Hokage-sama?" Itachi-kun whispered, staring straight ahead, ignoring the poison directed at him.
"I believe in Clan Uchiha to the best of my ability. It is difficult when no one has been able to get a satisfactory alibi out of your parents or many of the other adult Uchiha as to where they were on that night. My belief means nearly nothing though, Itachi-kun. You must find proof, as I have advised your whole clan, if they were indeed delving into clan business they cannot speak of during a meeting at a location they will not honestly name."
Itachi-kun frowned and dropped his gaze.
"Do not lose hope. Your father has invited me to your home today. Perhaps he has found a lead."
"More like mother did," Itachi muttered. "He can't leave the village, as MP head."
"Yes, most likely your mother did, but she is too discrete to brag."
When they at last sat around Uchiha Fugaku and Mikoto's coffee table, cups of tea at hand, Fugaku leaned closer, Mikoto sitting demurely to his left. "There are rumours that an organization that belongs to no village is hunting the beasts."
"I assume you are speaking of Akatsuki," said Hiruzen, who had heard about it from Jiraiya the moment Orochimaru had begun having dealings with them.
Fugaku nodded. "Clan members have picked up rumours that while they work commissions like any village operative, they have quietly been investigating certain people, tracking down certain powers amongst certain villages. For example, Akatsuki seemed very interested in the Yondaime Mizukage."
Yagura had been the Sanbi's jinchuuriki until his disappearance. "Interesting. Continue your research. Do not forget that finding parties interested in the bijuu is not enough. You must prove their link to the Kyuubi's attack. I am counting on the Uchiha."
Uchiha Mikoto watched Hiruzen with her fathomless dark eyes as her husband bowed his head before following suit.
Mae curled up on her futon as the back door shut quietly behind the two ninja she shared this mission with and her son.
She hadn't expected him to become her son. She knew that her child had been a girl and probably would have become a girl just like herself: born to a prostitute, born into prostitution, with no thoughts of what else in life there might be, other than perhaps a higher class of prostitution.
Mamoru (she knew that wasn't his real name, but for her, it was) had taken her away from all that and had given her Yuji, who couldn't have been more than a week old. Yuji had adored her, so she had adored him in turn, keeping to whatever orders Mamoru issued without protest as Seiichi watched her warily. Those two had warmed up to her more slowly, glacially slowly. She hadn't realized why until Yuji had been weaned.
"You're done now," Mamoru had told her.
She had violently refused, and Yuji had backed her in his small way.
That was the one argument she had won against Mamoru that counted. Every day that she woke up to see Yuji at the breakfast table was a victory so sweet she could take that Mamoru kept her on a short leash and kept many things from her with Seiichi.
She knew Yuji's hair wasn't really curly brown, similar to the way the illusion made hers, and that his eyes weren't that colour either. She had seen the illusion flicker when Mamoru had been laid up with the flu a couple years ago. She had been bouncing Yuji on her knee when suddenly his eyes had faded to blue, his hair had receded to a golden buzz cut, and his features had sharpened. Upstairs, she had heard Mamoru emptying his stomach into the toilet.
The toilet had flushed, and Yuji had returned to normal.
So, yes, she knew that they were hiding Yuji. For how long, she wasn't sure, but this was the first year she had felt the cloud of their separation truly hanging over her. She had caught Mamoru studying Yuji objectively and trading looks with Seiichi. Late night training sessions had been stepped up.
How long would she have her baby yet? Where would they take him when they took him from her? Would she ever see him again? What would happen to her when Yuji was no longer there to protect her, to keep her near him? Mamoru refused to answer her questions.
They had promised her money, and she had gotten it. It was in an account. Every six months, she would go to the nearby city and check the balance, and it was always steady, slowly gathering interest. She had once wanted that money to break from her lowest rung on the prostitution ladder, to scale the ladder to the top, to even break away completely and train as a geisha, to have some ability to choose whom she lay with, to be desired for something other than how much cleavage she showed.
Now…
She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, flashes of colour playing behind her eyelids.
Uncertainty ran chilled fingers over her stomach and intestines despite how she curled up in a ball to ward off the cold. Her eyes prickled and stung as her breathing became jagged and heavy.
She would not cry. Not now, not when she hadn't cried when losing her own child to the beating. No, she was a born whore. She did not cry.
When Mamoru came in, sliding the door open and shut nearly silently, she was still curled in a ball, struggling to be still, be silent. She expected him to go to his own futon, to rush into sleep's embrace, but he paused.
"Hiromi?"
She stayed still.
He padded to her side and pulled the blanket free of her face, following with her hands. "Hiromi." He clasped her hands in his for a moment before tracing the curve of her jaw with a calloused finger. He chucked diamond-shaped knives with this finger and his thumb. She had seen him once. He had called them kunai.
She didn't respond to his touch.
"Hiromi, what is it?" His palm rested against her cheek, warm. "Is it Yuji?"
Mae gave up on feigning sleep. Mamoru was as excellent an actor as he was at picking out body language. "What's going to happen? When is this going to end?"
He sighed and caressed one of her palms for the benefit of their nonexistent audience. Mae had learned on the first day that Mamoru never stopped acting, never broke character. "I can't tell you."
"Because you aren't allowed to or because you don't know?"
"Both."
"I'm right though, aren't I? Yuji is going to go away."
He wrote 'yes' on her palm. It tickled, but the sensation didn't block out the spike of pain/terror/uncertainty/fierce denial.
"And what's going to happen to us? Where will you go?"
'Back.'
"Where?"
He started writing 'home' but paused. He crossed out the character and wrote 'back' again instead.
"Because you have to or because you want to?" she whispered.
'Job', 'family graves', and 'comrades' got traced onto her palm.
She considered this. Mamoru was a ninja, she was fairly sure. Probably a Konoha ninja, so that meant he would go back to Konoha. "And Seiichi?"
'Same.'
"And me?"
'Wherever you want. Whatever you want.'
She sat up and took his palm now, locking eyes with him. He was a primal creature, eyes full of roiling and unknowable purpose when he wasn't guarded enough. He would always be her image of what a ninja was. And she wanted to have that example close. What if what I want is to go with you? But she knew better than to say that. Besides, there were other more pressing questions. 'And will I be alive?'
He didn't even blink at the words she had written on his palm. 'I promise.'
Suspicion weighed heavily in her gut. 'Will I remember?'
He didn't give anything away, a superb actor, but she knew that he was lying when he wrote 'yes' on her palm.
If I don't remember you… She shook her head, her eyes stinging again, so she pulled her palms free to press against the lids. He always lied to her, so it wasn't the dishonesty that burned, she supposed. It was that he had let her see that he lied somehow. He hadn't even spared her the reassurance that believing in his lie would grant her.
He locked his hands around her wrists and pulled her hands away from her face for the second time. After trapping both in one grip, he put his other hand on the back of her neck and drew her closer, pressing his lips against hers. It was the mask though, so she didn't want any of it. Mamoru kissed Hiromi, not Mae. Yuji loved Mae. Seiichi was fond of Mae. But Mamoru only played husband for Hiromi, never for Mae. Instead of accepting kisses meant for an imaginary woman, Mae pressed her lips to the side of his neck instead, breathing in his scent. His unruly stubble prickled against her cheek and then her neck as he mimicked her gesture.
"I'm shaving you tomorrow," she whispered before pulling away.
His eyes were full of the veneer of calm covering showy worry. Totally in character again. "I did promise."
She pulled the mask of Hiromi back on and leaned forward to capture his lips. He responded nicely, he always did, but the meaning behind his motion only touched her skin, nothing deeper. Disgust led her to fumbling her role and pulling away a little too briskly. Shit. She didn't want him to know how he bothered her. "Goodnight," she whispered, burrowing back under her blankets.
Mamoru watched her snuggle back under the covers.
She had been particularly unsubtle. Interesting. And a little bit sad.
Hiromi was a good actress, to a point. She blended too much of herself in when she dealt with Yuji and Seiichi. Her love for those two was sincere and deeper than she probably meant it to be. Mae came through for them. For him, she managed a little better to keep her character and self separate. She would occasionally lapse, as she had tonight. Mae had come through strongly in her fear and her questions, but that was to be expected, he supposed.
Mamoru was just glad he had somehow managed to trigger her back into Hiromi, whom he could act alongside. Takashi wanted nothing to do with Mae the prostitute, but Mamoru could love Hiromi.
If she was as concerned as she had let on, he was going to have to do something. She was attached enough to Naruto-kun that she would act irrationally if he tried to take him away from her again. Last time, he had let her stay because, honestly, her presence made their act that much better. For her to suddenly disappear would raise questions, which he would have to avoid by moving the entire operation.
Her love for Naruto-kun was strong enough that he wasn't sure a memory block would cut it. To be safe, he would have had to kill her. He hadn't been ready then, though. Hiromi had been a wonderful mother to both boys, created a stable home life that somehow swept the mission under the rug, and had been a good enough wife to Mamoru that Takashi had let it pass.
It had been easier when Mae the whore had just been doing this for the money. That type of loyalty was sketchy but easily dealt with. The deep bonds motivating her now were much more difficult.
He had promised her life though. Hopefully, she would accept the memory block so it wouldn't be necessary for him to break that vow to her.
Hiromi wielded the blade competently, scraping it along Mamoru's jawline. In the city, the last time they had made the journey, she had seen the usual "safe" razors made with porcelain, metal, and wood since plastic was so precious and difficult to produce in this day and age. She had been tempted to nab a few for herself, to make it easier to keep her legs clean, but then she wouldn't have an excuse to touch Mamoru. After stropping the blade for the last time, she cleaned up the other side of his jawline, flicking her eyes over his neck and lifting his chin to ensure that shadow hadn't hidden anything from her.
She handed over the bottle of aftershave as she wiped the blade clean and stowed it before nabbing her scissors off the kitchen table. The boys were out again, off doing whatever Yuji and Seiichi considered worthy of a Sunday morning after a long training session the night before. Taking the whetstone in hand, she touched up the edge of her scissors before pestering Mamoru into sitting down again.
"Your hair is a mess."
"It seems it always is."
She smiled slightly as she set aside her scissors and made him tip his chair back as well as his head so his hair was under the kitchen sink's tap for the most part. She turned the water on warm and worked water into the hair that the spout missed. He lay back, eyes closed, and let her do as she liked.
Afterwards, as she patiently combed his hair into the proper part and made it lie flat, she wondered who would do this for him when he returned to wherever he was from. Did he have someone there he liked? Was that why he never looked at her, never turned to her for any sort of release? What was his real name?
She supposed she would never know.
The activity she normally enjoyed so much because it was the one time she felt close to Mamoru suddenly became a torment because she really didn't know him at all.
When she finished, she stepped back and helped him brush the clippings off his back once he stood up.
"I'll clean up," he said, heading for the broom. "And it's my turn to cook tonight. What have we got?"
She wrinkled her nose. "Cod." This endless parade of fish grated upon her. She wanted some real red meat, dammit.
He smiled wryly at her disgust. "If you want, you could take Seiichi and head to the herders' village up the track. Grab some salted pork or whatever from their stores. He'll be glad for the outing. I'll keep Yuji amused."
"Do you know where they are?"
He began sweeping. "Down on the docks, probably. Breathe through your mouth so you don't offend anyone with your sweet expression."
She gave him the finger before slinging on her coat and heading out the door, his eyes probably crinkled with amusement behind her.