Chapter 4
The journey to Waterborough was marred by rain and silence. Lee's most valiant efforts to nurture some form of discourse between his wordless companions was hampered in no small part by Neji's unyielding behavior. Thus far, they had exchanged no words other than the compulsory: names, directions, and precious little else. They had offered no explanation, yet she had discerned it in the breed of their horses and the quality of their supplies. Tenten required nothing more to see that the pilgrimage was attended by men of privilege. Neji, in both demeanor and presence, betrayed himself as a son of some aristocracy. Lee had not borne the same advantage, for he appeared in all manners and means to be the son of a knight.
True to her word, Tenten led them swiftly through the downpour directly to the gates of Waterborough. Their steeds sloshed miserably down the deserted streets. Neji peered through the thick slate of rain from beneath the cover of his hood, yet could discern nothing save for the quavering outlines of Tenten and Lee before him. They took reprieve in the first inn they came across, any and all punctiliousness having long been stripped from them just as the heat had been. Lee elected to secure rooms for their company at Tenten's insistence, for she was adamant about seeing to her stallion, as Neji was with his mare.
Lee stood in wait for them just inside the entrance of the inn, in his hand a single key. "I am afraid there was only one room left to claim."
"I suppose that is to be expected in this weather," said Tenten, her voice tired but lacking censure.
Neji's pinched expression betrayed his objection to the arrangement, though he voiced no outward protest. They were all impatient to be rid of their saturated cloaks and sodden boots. Exhausted, they hauled themselves to the second story room, only to be met with yet another inconvenience: a single bed. Certainly, it could accommodate them all, if rather uncomfortably. Neji and Lee found themselves glancing at Tenten with varying degrees of unease. She strode further into the room, catching the lamplight against the hilt of her blade as she drew it out to observe for water spotting. It was decorated with what appeared to be a wingless, serpentine creature with lacquered black eyes. Satisfied with its condition, she propped it against the bedside table. She surveyed the room approvingly, only stopping to raise a single brow at the two of them still standing at the door, soaking the floorboards with their waterlogged garments. "Sickness is swift to catch those that care not to outrun it," remarked Tenten.
"That is an adage I have not yet heard," replied Lee, taking care to keep his distance.
Tenten wiped absently at a water trail that had been left by a curl of damp hair. "One of my father's favorite proverbs."
Lee glanced at Neji, who still stood rather stiffly at the door.
"Is something the matter?"
"Are you not aware of the gross indecency of this predicament?" inquired Neji tactlessly. Tenten's eyes searched the room for what it was he spoke of. "I am speaking, of course, of your virtue." Lee winced at the sheer artlessness of Neji's response.
Tenten looked taken back, before her features grew tempestuous like the wind howling at their window. "I am perfectly capable of defending my virtue," she said fiercely.
"I am aware of your capabilities, yet the fact remains—"
"Unless you are insinuating your intentions to compromise my virtue," she bit out, cheeks coloring to reflect either embarrassment or agitation, "your asinine concerns are of no consequence to me."
"Rest assured; your virtue is the last thing on this earth I would think to compromise."
Lee looked positively affronted on her behalf, for Tenten's expression, other than her cheeks paling a single shade, remained checked. "Neji—" began Lee in protest.
"Please, Lee," interrupted Tenten firmly. "You need not involve yourself." Turning to Neji, she asked, "Are there any other grievances of yours I must address before I retire?"
Neji eyed her coolly. "No. Nothing that can be remedied."
"If that is settled, then," she replied, tone curt and clipped, "perhaps, we may now sleep without being subjected to any more of your unsubstantiated concerns."
Lee's eyes darted from one occupant to the next, shifting fitfully as he fought to find a way to end the argument. "We have a long day ahead of us," he attempted, "and the night is short. We are all weary from travel."
Tenten's eyes lost their sharpness when he spoke. She needed no further encouragement. She turned away, pulling off her damp outer tunic and her woolen socks. Without another word, she maneuvered herself to the end of the bed, and with her back turned to them, sought slumber.
Neji eyed her prone form with a measure of trepidation, but even he could not ignore the insistent pull of fatigue on his eyelids and the ache in his bones. Moments later, the three travelers were aligned rigidly on the bed. Forced to take the middle in order to thwart any further offenses, Lee hardly slept a wink that night.
The previous night's downpour had proved to be a blessing in disguise. Inconvenienced by the deluge, Jiraiya had extended his sojourn until weather permitted passage into another township. They found the traveling minstrel entertaining a humble mass along the banks of a river. It was his voice that drew their notice, low and melodious, his words like precious beads of honey for a dying man's thirst. A lute sat perched upon his lap, but went unused, for his voice alone commanded their unwavering attention. He stood taller than any man, with broad shoulders and broad lips. Red trails, like tears, marked the length of his cheeks. Wrinkles marred his handsome face, yet did nothing to dim the merriment from his eyes.
"Yet, he bid them no heed,
His mind now lost to sweet words,
Knowledge, said the siren,
I shall give thee."
They took their places behind the throng, intrigued by his craft.
"But come, young soldier,
Into these welcome waters,
He dove, for temptation too great,
And his men did cry, for they knew he was lost."
Applause came running on the heels of his tale, and cries for more broke like waves across his back. He bowed, before taking his seat once more. He spoke next of enchanted foxfire forests, before concluding with a brief reenactment of the very miracle that ascended the Lady Tsunade's name to eminence.
Evening came and found them to be the remaining three spectators to his performance. The bard regarded them sedately over a swig of his flask, until his gaze alighted on Tenten. His weariness appeared to leave him like a mantle in a blustering wind. "Fair Lady!" He approached her with all the fervor of an enamored gentleman. Having reached her, he made a grand gesture of genuflecting as he pressed his lips to her hand. Tenten blinked her alarm, having not anticipated his unwarranted behavior. "Your smile must be the envy of the sirens in the sea, for it is rapture to behold." He hardly spared the other two so much as a dismissive glance. "Please, exquisite Lady, to what do I owe the honor of your presence?"
Tenten carefully extracted her hand from the bard's grip. Neji noted her reaction to his crass overtures with a strange mixture of relief and approval. "You must be the legendary traveling sage, Jiraiya," she responded with a polite, but undesigning, smile.
"What an honor it is to hear my humble name spoken by such a sonorous creature. Alas, how can I not know the name of the one who hails me?"
"Please, Tenten is adequate." She parried his flattering advances as expertly as she parried blows.
"Tenten," he said with relish, "how may I be of service?"
"We seek tidings of the healer, the Lady Tsunade."
At the mention of the name, he straightened, and his aspect became far more controlled, collected. "Ah," he murmured, "I fear that I have little to offer you, Tenten."
Neji stepped forward, but Tenten's glance was enough to ward him off. "Please, I seek the healer in good faith. My father is ill. I," she hesitated, the worry in her eyes bleeding into her words, "am afraid that if she does not see him—"
Jiraiya placed a placating hand on her shoulder, expression softening in genuine compassion. "She is a powerful healer, but her knowledge came at a great personal price. She shuns the company of the ignorant. Forgive me, even I—who have traveled to the peak of Mount Myouboku and back—know not where she may be. But if there is anything I can offer to aid your quest, Tenten, it is this: seek misfortune, for wherever she goes, misfortune is sure to follow."
With that, the bard took up his lute and, playing a melancholy tune, vanished into the star-spangled night.
They departed from Waterborough the same evening. The night was clear, the golden slice of the moon like a gleaming bow in the sky above them. They stopped for rest at Tenten's insistence, for she soon detected fatigue in the stilted lope of Neji and Lee's steeds. As they readied their encampment, Lee cast meaningful glances over at Neji, who had, during the course of their evening ride, regarded Tenten with nothing more than a brusque forbearance. They watched her over the blazing fire, as she stroked her stallion's mane and fed him grain from the satchel at her waist by the hand, as if he were still a young colt. She murmured something in the creature's ear—affectionately, Neji imagined. She turned abruptly, as if drawn by the power of his gaze. The strange glow that previously occupied her eyes dissipated, and she quickly averted her gaze.
"You do her a disservice, Neji," spoke Lee, his voice pitched so that it would carry no further.
Neji was slighted by his reproach, though he endeavored not to betray it. Lee had earned his respect through years of sparring and allegiance. Neji knew Lee was nothing if not forthright and veracious. He found little to defend himself with. "And why shall I treat her differently, Lee?" he demanded.
"Has she not proven herself already?" responded Lee. "Do not mistake her for a simple Lady, Neji. She is a warrior, like you and I."
"She is a woman."
"She is also a woman."
Neji found sleeping on the earth dreadfully impossible. For what felt to him like hours, he shifted fitfully, with only the dying embers as witness to his struggle. Resigned to yet another sleepless night, he righted himself with a grimace. He gazed into the glowing cinders, a hand absently tracing the edge of the bind around his forehead, turning over the words of the minstrel in his mind like riverbed stones. Neji glanced past the pile of smoldering wood, and saw Tenten's eyelids flicker open. It did not take long for her gaze to shed its drowsiness. When it had, Neji's eyes fell away, just as his hand fell from the tie of his headband. "Go back to sleep." His voice was weary, stripped of its arrogance.
Tenten propped herself on her elbow. "You cannot sleep?"
"There is too much on my mind," he said dismissively. "You would not understand."
"Perhaps I would not," she admitted, "but ignorance is a poor judge."
Seeing that he could not end this conversation using customary methods, he turned away and lay back onto his thorny pallet. He did not wish to allay her ignorance. After all, what he most desired, she could not give him.
At daybreak, they consulted the map for indicators on their next destination. The bard's cryptic words had left them all mystified. "Misfortune" communicated anything from disease to death. It gave them little direction.
As Neji readied the horses, Lee consulted Tenten concerning the map. "Mount Myouboku? The traveling sage—"
Tenten shook her head. "But nothing of misfortune has ever been spoken of the place—only hardship and hermitage."
Lee traced their path along the map, finally resting his finger on a dot that marked the presence of another municipality. "Could we hope to find tidings in Goldborough?"
"Goldborough is where the venturesome go to court Lady Luck," explained Tenten. "Speculators from all across the land journey there for a good wager. I suppose we could, as well."
They arrived in the rowdy, crowded avenues of Goldborough after days of riding. Betting houses and drinking taverns lined every street. Zealous cries poured forth from the betting houses, accompanied by either sensational yells of triumph or howls of bankruptcy. A pair of defeated gamblers emerged from a betting house to their immediate right, quarreling over what appeared to be their last rouleau of coins.
"My Lady, to allow you to carry on would be an act of grievous irresponsibility!" exclaimed one of the quarrelers, pressing the roll of currency intractably against her bosom.
"Shizune," her companion barked sternly, voice unusually deep and ancient in spite of the youth in her unblemished visage. "Return it to me at once! Lady Luck is beholden—"
"Lady Luck is beholden to no one!" she replied, steely, as if she had a predisposition to be austere when it came to the topic in question.
"Five days, it has been, without reward! As it stands, my fortune will surely make a turn for the better this next round."
"Five days and still you have not been brought to your senses, My Lady! Misfortune follows you like a specter!"
Tenten halted where she stood, eyes fixing on the snappish, blonde figure. "Might that be her?" whispered Tenten breathlessly.
"Should we not be searching for a Lady twice her age?" replied Lee, bewildered.
Tenten frowned, resuming her walk in order to ensure that the two women did not escape her sight. "It has been purported that the Lady Tsunade can resist the weathering of seasons."
"A myth, certainly!" cried Lee incredulously.
Tenten looked to Neji, her expression earnest and entreating. "I must agree with Tenten," he spoke, startling them both. "It would not amaze me if she possessed such an ability." If the lore surrounding the mysterious healer was true, Neji was convinced his time as a banished nobleman would come to an end. There was nothing to lose by shadowing the woman, whose name had yet to be spoken by her companion.
Tenten's lips curved into a smile. "Shall we, then?"
"We shall," he replied briskly.
When the pair had, at last, lost what remained of their fortune, they bickered the entire way to their quarters on the outskirts of Goldborough. Neji found several of the topics they argued over utterly preposterous, to which Lee snorted derisively.
"What is it, Lee?" inquired Neji, unaccustomed to mockery.
"It is not unlike your altercations with Tenten, my friend."
"Hush!" cried Tenten distractedly, waving them into an alley. She peered up the avenue, at the placard hanging from the shop door. "I do believe it is her!"
Neji stepped closer to the corner, inadvertently pressing Tenten between the alley and himself. His gaze went easily over her, as she was good deal shorter. His breath was warm and even against the back of her neck. Tenten's felt her pulse quicken; she ascribed it stubbornly to the thrill of the pursuit. "A medicinal herb shop," confirmed Neji.
The shop bell rang. "I apologize," began Shizune, glancing up from her post behind the counter where she separated dried Barberry stalks, "but we are closed."
"We do not come seeking your herbs," confessed Neji. "We have come to speak with the Lady Tsunade."
Shizune's countenance grew pale in alarm. "I am afraid you have come to the wrong place, traveler. Such a name does not dwell beneath this roof."
"My father is gravely ill." Tenten stood forward. "I will pay a great deal to see that he has recovered."
Shizune's gaze softened in sympathy. Nevertheless, she shook her head. "I cannot fathom how you came to find her, but she will not see you."
"Perhaps, she will see me." Neji stripped the cloth from his forehead, revealing the accursed brand.
Tenten's lips parted in shock. She had wondered at the nature of his quest, but never had she felt it appropriate to broach the subject with him directly. She could tell instantly that it was no ordinary scar. His stoic gaze remained averted from hers, yet she descried shame in it.
Shizune was rendered momentarily speechless by the mark. She hastily placed the dried stalks into a small counter-top drawer, brushing her hands against the apron that she wore. "Wait here. I will see what I can do." She disappeared from the front of the shop.
"Neji," began Tenten, but was silenced before she could go further.
"You will not speak of this to anyone," he said sharply.
Shizune appeared at the doorway, her expression indecipherable. "Come," she said, "she will see you. Take care, travelers; she guarantees nothing."
To be continued.
A/N: I apologize for the delay. Half of this had been written for months, but the other half refused to materialize. I went through multiple drafts, grew impatient, sped up and down the timeline, etc. I had to fight tooth and nail through this awful writer's block, and I'm still not sure that I'm over it yet. But I think the appearance of Tsunade (finally) will spur me to get the next chapter completed at a faster pace. Thank you for being so patient with me. I don't usually resort to this, but feedback would a lovely motivator at this point.