Springtree is exactly what I'd expected, a small, pastoral village out in the country, full of people who've known each other their entire lives and have likely never laid eyes on a ninja before.
Not knowingly at least.
Ergo, as I'd also expected, there's a lot of standing and staring being done by the locals as we make our way into the village.
No matter, we've prepared for this, that was the point of all the planning, and why we bothered to come in uniforms; if our mission here is to make an impression, then an impression we will make.
On the other hand, I decide, staring at Ken Ishimura, if our mission here ends up being something else, we're ready for that too.
I'll make sure we are.
A teenage girl walks up to our group.
She's tall for her age, possessing a willowy physique that makes it seem like she might sway with the wind.
She's obviously also older than us, though by no more than three years, I'd wager.
The girl's bearing suggests casualness, maybe even carefreeness, but her eyes give her away; she's focused on us, us and Ken, and not in the same way the other locals are.
No, this girl is scared. She's scared because she has something to hide.
"Hey, old man Ishimura," the girl says, sending a smile Ken's way. It looks genuine, but its genuineness doesn't hide how her eyes flit over Ken's body, as though she's worried about him and is checking to see if he's been hurt.
Ken smiles back at the girl. There is a lot of weight behind that smile, and I can tell that a silent conversation passes between the two, even though I'm not privy to its contents.
Regardless of my not being privy to the conversation however, I can still see its aftereffect; the girl looks relieved.
"Kei," Ken says, his voice displaying no signs of any of what I know he's feeling, "how many times am I going to have to tell you to stop calling me 'old man'?"
The girl, Kei, smirks. "Your memory must be going, old man, 'cause that's the first time you've ever mentioned that."
"Cheeky brat," Ken says, and tries to flick her forehead, but she bends gracefully out of his reach.
This is not a new lie. Whatever these two are hiding, they've been at it for some time; they're practiced at it.
Also, there's something about them that I can't put into words. Something about the way they move. It stands out to me and I don't know why.
Whatever it is, it must be too subtle for my conscious mind to pick up.
Of course, I could use my sharingan, that would put any oddities in stark relief and make pinpointing them easier.
Regrettably, the sharingan is rather noticeable, and until I know more, it may be better to be discreet.
"So, are these the ninja?" Kei asks.
Her eyes are appraising, like she's trying to gauge how dangerous each one of us might be.
"Yeah, that's them," Ken says, and proceeds to make introductions.
"I'm Kei Okinawa," Kei says, bowing politely after Ken is done. "I'm Chief Okinawa's granddaughter.
"Come on, I'll take you to him."
With a wave and one last glance shared with Ken, Kei leads us away.
We reach Chief Okinawa's house in little time, a decent sized abode some distance from the rest of the village that is one of the very few I've seen around here that's made of stone.
Two people sit on a bench in the verandah, one of them a very old man and the other a boy who couldn't be more than eight.
At the sight of us, the boy's eyes widen, and a buzz seems to run through him.
"Grandpa," the boy shouts excitedly. "Grandpa, look! Grandpa, grandpa, look. The ninja are here! They're here!"
The old man looks in our direction too, but it's clear that his eyesight is failing with age, since he seems to have trouble picking us out.
The boy, unable to control his excitement any longer (if you can call what he's been doing controlling it), rushes right at us, squealing at the top of his lungs.
Right when the boy is so close that I'm beginning to consider if I can claim self-defense in the event that I end up having to roundhouse kick him just to keep him away, Kei, walking ahead of us, snatches him off the ground and into the air smoothly.
Too smoothly.
Just like that, it hits me. That's why the way she and Ken move stood out to me; their motions are too smooth. Too easy. Too capable.
"Whoa, Gin, no running at people, remember? Certainly not ninja," Kei says.
The boy, Gin, has the decency to look contrite, but it only lasts until he lays eyes on us again for him to go back to being starry-eyed.
"Sorry about that," Kei says. "This is my brother, Gin. He's excited to meet you."
That's one way of putting it.
"Hey, Gin," Naruto says, stepping to the boy with all of his teeth displayed in one of his signature smiles. "I'm Naruto Uzumaki. Remember that name, 'cause one day, I'm gonna be Hokage. Believe it."
While Sakura looks like she's about to keel over from embarrassment, Gin looks like he's never seen anything more amazing than Naruto in that moment.
"Oh," Kei's grandfather says as he approaches us, leaning on a cane for support, "the future Hokage? We must be in good hands then."
Naruto's smile widens. "The best," he proclaims.
The old Chief smiles kindly. "I place us in your care then," he says, head dipping in a small bow. "Please, come in from the sun," he adds, and turns to lead us into the house.
Kei, still carrying Gin like the eight year old isn't half her size and weight at least, follows behind.
This is my chance to confirm this.
With Kei's back turned, I activate my sharingan for a split second. It's enough.
She's done a good job of hiding it. A good enough job that, with my less than stellar chakra sensing capabilities, I hadn't picked up a single hint.
But she can't hide from the sharingan.
Kei (and very likely, Ken too) is a ninja.