Chapter 25 preview

Author’s note: A little preview for the weekend. Some Sakura-centric scenes from the first night at the cherry blossom festival.

Strolling back to the center of town after the meeting adjourned for the evening, Sakura was quite surprised at the change in the town. Lanterns had been hung in the treetops and were just now twinkling to life. Their red glow cast the petals into a deeper shade of pink, and the whole scene took on an other-worldly feel.

Adding to the excitement were the colorful creatures that Sakura spotted every so often. Sometimes it was the face of a  thunderous war god, other times it was the streaming cloak of a haunting spirit. But whichever costume they chose, the village youths were making a brisk business for the vendors selling masks and cloaks. And it only added to the carnival-like feeling of the night-time blossom viewing.

Most of the costumed festival-goers seemed harmless. But when Sakura spied a pack of masked teens crossing the lane quickly ahead of her, she changed her mind. They were moving quickly, jostling bystanders out of their path, before ducking between two vendor’s stalls.

Sakura narrowed her eyes. They can’t be up to any good. She followed in their wake, rounding the corner a few steps behind them.

And sure enough, the kids were pilfering food from an old farmer who had the misfortune of selling his produce off the main road. The biggest one was hulking over the farmer, blocking his view, while the others pocketed as much food as they could.

“Hey!” Sakura’s sharp voice startled them all. Fruit tumbled from hands and pockets, rolling everywhere. The one occupying the farmer turned quickly at the interruption. Even through the eyeholes of the grotesque mask Sakura could see he was ablaze with anger.

“Dammit. Come on,” the big one grumbled, flashing his thick hand at the group. His voice was deeper than Sakura expected, and as he straightened to dash off, Sakura was surprised to find he was taller than she expected too. Sakura watched them disappear, summing up that these were probably overgrown teens, as old if not older than her, and they were clearly taking advantage of the costumes.

The farmer was grumbling at his bad luck, but he was none the worse for wear. He was more interested in packing his crates and moving locations than speaking to anyone else at the moment, so Sakura left him to his work.

Wandering back up the broadest tree-lined canal, Sakura couldn’t deny those kids had a good strategy, even if they were the village delinquents. There were lots of people dressed up in the very same masks and cloaks, and not all of them young. If that little gang had done any real harm it would be nearly impossible to find them.

She stopped at the base of one of the arched bridges and leaned her back against the rail. More crowds came and went, not all of the costumed, but interesting characters nonetheless. Gone were the families and sweethearts of the early afternoon. Now the noblemen, merchants and commoners all mingled together. And the men and women watched each other with an interest that suited the drama of the red blossom clouds drifting overhead.

A throng of men strolled up the lane, turning to cross the bridge. They were well dressed, in sleek, dark kimonos. Sakura thought she recognized one from the meeting and looked at him full in the face to be sure. It was not him, but her searching gaze did not go unnoticed, and as they passed the men all looked in her direction. A few even deigned to nod at her.

Sakura nodded politely, thinking to herself that they probably thought a young kunoichi was just as odd a sight as a masked thunder god come to life, when a tightly packed group of women of turned onto the bridge. They were clearly companions of the men, in equal number and just as impeccably dressed.

And, like the men, the women had not missed Sakura’s appraisal either.

Swishing their brightly colored kimonos, the women whispered to each other, each one getting an eyeful of Sakura’s very non-traditional apparel. Most simply snickered and averted their gaze as they passed. But the one on the end made a big show of sweeping out a gorgeous long sleeve as she came even with Sakura.

She touched a finger to a sprig of blossoms nestled atop her black hair, jingling the dainty chimes that hung from a hairstick beneath it. The effect was magical: Sound glittered around her as she walked. But the icy look she slanted at Sakura was anything but beautiful. She clearly perceived the kunoichi as a threat.

Stifling a laugh at the thought, Sakura ignored the cold glare and looked back down the bridge. The woman was apparently satisfied with her victory over the upstart kunoichi. She tossed her head to set the chimes moving again, but her own haughty laughter drowned out the pleasant ringing.

Sakura sighed, folding her arm over her waist. She’d wait a little longer before she set out to walk around the village. Right now she could still pass her time by fact-gathering, watching for someone she might recognize from the meeting. But she saw no one of interest.

However, Tsunade’s meticulous instruction at observation did pay off in some unintended ways.

Slipping in amongst the promenading families were other beautiful women. Sakura would have dismissed them completely if she hadn’t caught the snide looks on several noblewomen’s faces.

These women didn’t miss the withering glances either, but they simply laughed it off. Because where the nobles ignored them, the commoners smiled and deferred to their friendly, open manners. And these women were happy to give their attention.

They were courtesans, Sakura realized. Entertainers, attendants. These girls made it their livelihood to bring a colorful light to their patrons’ world. And they did their job well: Whether they were in a group or accompanying an individual, it was like a ray of sunshine followed them, even at night. They rivaled even the cherry blossoms for attention.

After seeing several pass by, Sakura began to study them clinically. That would be a good disguise in a pinch.

A group of courtesans strode up the lane, but one woman broke off near the bridge. Sakura watched her closely. With fluid grace, the woman leaned out and plucked an overripe fruit from a farmer’s cart. The old man’s parchment cheeks stained pink. He smiled broadly, revealing several missing teeth. It was jarring. But instead of shirking him, the courtesan took it all in stride. She smiled glowingly back, looking past the flaw.

She’s after something other than fruit.

The courtesan laid her hand on the man’s ragged coat sleeve, so different from her flowing silk kimono. A question wilted her rose-blossom lips. She looked across the canal, feigning sadness (Sakura could tell) and pointed a slender white finger. Rows of wrinkles furrowed up the man’s forehead as he sought out the source of her displeasure. Sakura was compelled to look as well. A cluster of noblemen were walking together, heads bowed, talking closely. All different ages, all with varying looks. Yet their wealth was visible on their sleeves. The money put out for those silk robes alone could float a small town for a month, Sakura thought.

The old farmer laughed, delighted to be of use to the beautiful woman. He passed on what little he knew and was rewarded with the return of happiness to her face. She nodded and bowed in thanks to the old man as if he were a regal nobleman. The farmer was so delighted with her praise that he pushed another perfect round fruit into her hand before she left.

Sakura was amazed. That woman had gotten her information, and the man had been thrilled to tell her. Even gave her a parting gift!

Steady to her purpose, she crossed the lane towards Sakura, the bridge and presumably to her conquest, one of the wealthy men in the group.

Sakura was not expecting any acknowledgement, but as she approached, the woman startled her with a knowing look. Her glittering eyes and the slightest smirk curving up the corners of her red mouth told her everything. In an instant, an unspoken message passed between them like a lesson from teacher to student: She had used her feminine wiles to get what she needed.

The courtesan must have known Sakura was watching her. The kunoichi blushed lightly, a little embarrassed at being caught. But the woman’s smile only deepened. She nodded to Sakura, and Sakura, understanding now that witnessing this woman’s subtle manipulations was a lesson freely given, nodded back.

Eyes shifting back to her prize, the woman continued on, leaving only the soft rustle of silks and sweet perfume in the air behind her.

Unaccountably, Sakura thought of Tsunade. She thought that somehow, the Hokage would approve of this woman’s strategies, using her beauty and charm was a tool. In this instance it was probably more persuasive than a kunai.

The woman and her conquest moved out of sight. Sakura pushed off from the rail and decided that it was finally late enough to set out on her real purpose as well.

Excitement that she’d kept buried for months now threatened to consume her. Maybe tonight, maybe tonight…. Walking was exactly what she needed right now.

She followed the canals, taking each of them deep into the different quadrants of the village. She walked until the anticipation was dampened. She walked until the fantastical pink branches had started to loose some of their luster. She walked until she had completely convinced herself she wouldn’t see him. Maybe not tonight, after all.

Deeper in the residential sections of the village, almost near the outer wall, the pavers gave way to gravel. The trees were thinning out, and the crowds seemed to have abandoned these sections of the canal. The homes were still tidy, but they were not nearly as nice as the ones closer in to the center. She was just wondering if there was a bad section to this village, when a stone skipped out of the alley between two blocks of homes.

Slowing, Sakura took her time, fully aware that it could be Katsuro…or anyone else prone to hiding in dark corners.

Never veering from her path, she walked until she was just upon the pebble, then turned to look down the alley. Sure enough, there was a figure in the shadows. It peeled itself off the wall, and stepped toward the light, but never crossed out of that dark line. It stopped, facing her.

Sakura knew that profile, the soft curve of his shoulders and elbows when he stood with his hands plunked into his pockets. His head was tipped to the side. Even in darkness, she knew he was smiling.

“Katsuro,” she whispered. But she didn’t wait for him to signal to her, that subtle little nod she knew so well. Instead she dashed the few steps and crossed over into the darkness with him.

“Sakura,” he said warmly when she was close enough to hear.