Reprieve

Wrapped in his cloak, Kazuo’s face was hidden under his hood as he walked, his weapons hidden below his minor disguise as he walked across the trail. He really would have liked to have a horse at the moment, he was damned tired of walking everywhere. He also would have likely used his newfound technique to travel there instantly, but for a number of things. He felt his own power waning, in part due to Yomi’s influence. He felt her call even now, like a cornered animal, she was trying her damnedest to drag herself away from the hole he was returning to. She was terrified to return to the place she herself had guided him to, because her hold over him eroded when he was among his brethren. When he was home, he was safe, and she feared he’d no longer have any need of her.

Kazuo was doing his best to ignore her pleas. She had mislead him long enough. He could no longer stand the one who had been his savior, the one who had been his closest friend, for she was a traitor to him. She took control of his body haphazardly, stealing away his free will in order to gorge herself on the power of her prey. He would suffer it no more. He did not want to silence her, he did not like to see her suffer like this, but she offered him no choice.

So, Kazuo Kemuri walked. He crossed the land by foot, on his long, long pilgrimage to return to his true home. He had left his comrades in good hands, he did not worry for them. He had a home to return to, he felt foolish for leaving in the first place. As his cloaked form exited the thick woods into a clearing, he saw a light in the distance. A small village. As if on command, he felt a rumble in his belly, as he realized he had not eaten in over a day. His determination to return home had nearly lead him to starve in the wilderness, which would have been quite a humiliating demise.

He contemplated for a moment. He was still a wanted man in the Land of Iron, but his face and name were not well known, as the village that vilified him was relatively small. As long as he kept his head down, he would be fine. He may have been more cautious, what with his close proximity to the Land of Fire, but he had just heard of Kirigakure’s conquest of Konohagakure. As he was a free man in the eyes of The Mist, he needn’t fear discovery.

He approached the village cautiously, still, as he neared the marketplace. The wind died down as he entered the plaza, and the sun shone through the clouds, glinting across the snow-covered ground. Fires were burning, flickering across the logs in their pits, people gathered around them to bask in their warmth. Removing his hood, Kazuo strode across the path towards one of the market stalls, where fresh food was being cooked right before his eyes. A few coins left his hand, and the man began preparing his food. As he waited there, he kept his senses attuned to his surroundings, for it had been so long that he had been in a place like this.

A place of family, a place of community, and a place of happiness. He basked in the calm and the joy for a moment, embracing the silence. Even Yomi’s pleas were silent then, and Kazuo greatly enjoyed the tranquility.

[sorry it’s so dang long]

Koemi sighed, realizing with a twinge of contentment that her breath was no longer misting. Of course, that made sense, as she was indoors for the first time in weeks. She wrung her hands together, hoping to regain a bit of warmth in her icy fingers, and looked around the small shop in which she stood. It was a small thing, cozy, with dark wooden walls and stone ovens built into the back beside the door to the kitchens. Low isles furnished with various canned goods and remedies had been built in rows towards the front of the building. In the rear were the fresher, more perishable foods, with breads and pastries on one side of the register and deli-sliced meats and cheeses on the other. A large chuck of beef - or venison, maybe? - roasted on a spicket in the corner next to the ovens, its form blackened and crusted in garlic, pepper and hundred other spices Koemi couldn’t even begin to identify. The sight alone was enough to make her mouth water, but the smell…

Koemi grimaced and turned away, keeping her eyes low on the shelves before her. She hadn’t eaten in days, but she couldn’t afford that. There wasn’t more than a few ryo in her pocket and she had to make it last. She had to, or she’d starve to death in the mountains of the Land of Iron.

At least, she would starve if the cold didn’t catch her first.

Koemi shivered again and rubbed her hands together, though they were already fairly warm.

She could feel the man behind the register watching her. Koemi wasn’t surprised.

The little girl stuck out like a sore thumb. Though small and cluttered with many shelves and baskets, the grocery store was clean - polished, even - and clearly looked after. It was tight-knit but organized, and its patrons dressed presentably. Koemi, thus, was undeniably an outlier. Young and unaccompanied, her presence was already something to note. Her paleness alienated her further, and she felt like every set of uniformly dark eyes were watching the girl that blended into the snow more than she did the crowd. Malnutrition and wind chill had turned her lips a pale blue and her cheeks a rosy pink, and her stark white hair was combed but dirty and wet. Had her bitten nails been visible, they would have been caked with old mud, but it didn’t much matter. Even her gloves were threadbare and filthy - as was her entire outfit, come to think of it. Koemi was tinged with dark muck and her clothes were damp with melted snow, and not a single part of her outfit was remotely fit for winter in the mountains. It would have been obvious to any native that Koemi was an outsider, and an unprepared one at that. She could feel their questioning stares as customers moved purposely to avoid the isle in which she stood.

It was enough to make the little girl’s stomach roll but she willed herself to be comfortable. Casual. She didn’t need any more attention than that she had already drawn.

Koemi sighed and slipped a few granola bars into her basket. With them were two bottles of water, three small bags of meat jerky and some dried fruits. It wasn’t much, but even so, Koemi knew she was pushing it. This store was the cheapest she had seen so far, but it was still expensive nevertheless, and Koemi supposed that was because the entire town was still family-owned. Large corperations hadn’t yet infected this sanctuary with their discounts and bulk orders, and though this was a godsend for business owners, Koemi was left at a disadvantage. The coins in her pocket could have bought twice this amount in a city, but here… Here, her meager funds most likely wouldn’t cover more than half. She could only hope that the grocer was kind… or that her money had bred in her coat within the last ten minutes.

Bracing for the worst, Koemi made her way towards the register. She tried to lift her chin and square her shoulders, but, nevertheless, she sagged beneath the weight of both her hunger and social discomfort. Still, at the very least, Koemi wanted to maintain her dignity beneath the stare - questioning, intense - of the man working the register. He was large and muscular, built for wielding hacking knives and heavy sacks of flour. Koemi might have been nervous if not for the emotion etched into his kindly features. It wasn’t scorn, as she had previously suspected; rather, it was concern, now clear as day as their distance began to close. With that realization, a bit of the tension left Koemi’s shoulders. Perhaps he might be generous after all?

The man - Hisashi, according to his nametag - remained silent as Koemi slid her basket onto the checkout counter before him. She fumbled a bit, however, as weak as she was, for the counter was a bit high. That seemed to snap Hisashi out of his daze.

“Ah, let me help you with that.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, miss.”

He took the basket from her carefully and placed the goods upon the counter. It took a moment for him to inspect the prices and cross-check his addition, but it was quick enough, and Koemi did her best to swallow her nerves.

“That’ll be 110 ryo,” Hisashi said, but he wasn’t speaking to Koemi. He was speaking to her tattered jacket, her ripped gloves and the smudges on her face. His gaze reflected concern, because he didn’t think she could afford that -- not even something so cheap. But she could, surprisingly enough. Koemi had already forgotten the exact amount of ryo she had salvaged from her father’s pockets, but it was at least 180 ryo. She could afford this food… but just barely. So she nodded, and reached into her pocket.

Her empty pocket.

Koemi’s eyes widened as her fingers slipped through a hole in the bottom of it. The dramatic evolution of her face was almost comical. Shock, denial, comprehension, and finally horror in the end. In any other situation, Koemi might have laughed at herself, but this was nothing to giggle over. Despite herself, the little girl felt tears prick at the back of her eyes and it took everything she had left not to let them show.

“I…” she began, and Hisashi raised an eyebrow.

“Alright, onee-chan?”

“...My money is gone,” Koemi whispered, and she slowly withdrew her hands from her pockets. “There is… a hole. I had 180 ryo, but my coat must have torn while I was…”

Hisashi held up his hand, his expression unreadable, and Koemi fell silent. She held her breath for a moment - just a moment - as Hisashi contemplated something unknown to her, before he finally lowered his hand.

“How old are you?” he said.

“Eleven.”

“Only eleven years old…” he muttered, shaking his head. “My son is eleven. Are you out here alone?”

Should she lie? “No,” she answered, but her voice broke, and Hisashi’s gaze became gently pointed. Sucking in a breath, Koemi decided that perhaps the truth might actually work in her favor. “I lied,” she said, “I’m alone. But I’m on my way to find a relative in Haven Country.”

“Haven? Without an escort?”

“My parents… could not make the journey, Hisashi-san.”

A pause.

“What is your name?”

“Emi. My name is Emi.”

“Go ahead and take what you have picked out, Emi, and…” Hisashi reached for something dark next to the register, “...these. My wife has been knitting, lately, and we have enough to spare.”

Koemi took the bundle from the man and inspected them until, with a silent gasp, she realized what they were.

Mittens.

Oh, how soft they looked.

Koemi looked back to Hisashi with wonder in her eyes, but the man had begun to ramble.

“...a bit big on you, but everything else she’s made has been for the baby we’re expecting and I’m certain those won’t fit. I’m sorry this is all I can do. We have to make money, and the last group of trained men that arrived have already departed, and I can’t leave my wife to escort you myself, so I hope that--”

“Hisashi-san.”

He paused.

“Thank you.” She had already put on the mittens, and oh, the feeling of that warmth was a pleasure unlike anything she’d felt so far.

Hisashi smiled and scooped her items into a small grocery bag. “You’re very welcome, onee-chan,” he said, before a look of surprise marked his face. “Ah!” he continued, “there is something else I can do.”

Koemi nearly stopped him, but the voice of survival in her mind kept her silent as she watched him scurry about behind the counter. She took the time to stow her food away in one of her carry bags - though, it was a bit more difficult without the use of her individual fingers.

In another few moments, Hisashi was back, holding out something almost rectangular and wrapped in white wax paper. It was warm enough to feel when Koemi took it in her hands, even with both the gloves and the mittens covering them.

“What is this?”

“Roast beef,” he replied, and Koemi was left dumbfounded once more at the sheer kindness of this man. The smell had begun to seep through the paper and Koemi could feel herself salivating. She hadn’t eaten meat - fresh, warm meat - in so long…

“A-are you sure?”

“Positive. Plastic utensils are inside, and…” he offered her a plastic plate, “you can use this as well. Everyone deserves a warm dinner, Emi-chan. You are no exception.”

Koemi could feel the tears welling once more in her eyes, but they were not from horror. They were from gratitude.

“I…”

“No-- no need to thank me. You just travel safe, you here? And if you’re in the area again, stop in. It’ll be nice to know you’ve gotten around alright.”

This was fine. Koemi didn’t trust her voice - at best, it would shake, and at worst, she would sob - so she simply nodded and bowed. Doing her best to manage her emotions, she gave one last look at Hisashi before taking a breath, turning around and departing.

Koemi was nearly to the door, the meat still warm in her hands, when she noticed a peculiarity out of the corner of her eye. Small, reddish-brown, circular… Koemi’s eyes widened as she realized what they were.

Ration pills.

And a lot of them.

For a moment, she could only stare. The pills were stored in packs next to the shop’s door, each little cardboard carton containing a single ration. Her father hadn’t had any left, but she knew about them. She knew that they could save her when her food finally did run out, as she already knew it would.

She also knew that they were expensive.

This brand. This quantity. This quality.

These were very, very expensive, and idly she wondered why they were not locked away. Perhaps because civilians had no use for them? Or because they were directly in his vision?

Taking these would be a blow to this store, to this man. His wife, who knit. His unborn child and his son that was her age.

Koemi swallowed and took a handful of the tablets in her mitten.

Could she get away?

She could feel Hisashi’s gaze upon her---

“Emi. Put those down.”

Koemi turned her head, her body still, hand still clasped around the rations as she stared at Hisashi from the corner of her eye.

“I need them,” she whispered.

“And I need to feed my family.”

Silence, and no body moved for a moment.

“If you take those…”

“I’ll be arrested.”

Sorrow. “I’ll have no choice. They cost too much.”

“I’m sorry, Hisashi-san. You’ll have to catch me.”

With that, Koemi burst through the door, her gifted meat in one hand and the pills in another. She felt sick to her stomach from stealing from this man, but in the end, what was more important? Her guilt? Or her survival?

The cold air was like a punch to the face but she kept on moving, kept on running blindly and swerving through pedestrians as best she could. It was nearly dark, however, and the dryness of the wind made her eyes water. Everything was blurry and moving much too fast. Behind her, Koemi could hear Hisashi calling after her. He sounded… pained. Sorry. Like he truly regretted calling “thief” into the streets, regretted that he would have to turn her in. He probably did, Koemi realized. He probably hated himself for having to incriminate the little girl he helped, delaying her arrival to her relative in Haven. He hated having to blemish her record for nothing more than an attempt at survival, but he needed to survive too, right?

And the disgust amplified within Koemi, because that man didn’t know who he was sorry for.

She had no relative in Haven; she was traveling there for sanctuary. Because she wasn’t young. She wasn’t innocent. She was desperate, yes, but her record wasn’t clear.

She’d killed her father, and being arrested for this theft meant facing that crime as well.

The emotions were conflicting and Koemi wanted to throw up.

Before she could, however -- before she could escape, too, for that matter -- Koemi slammed into something tall and hard. She had been running at full speed, and though the collision did not hurt, it shocked her and took her breath away. The little girl tumbled to the ground, stunned, as she did not see the man in her path. She tried to get up, tried to run, but it was useless. The wind had been knocked from her lungs, the pills had been knocked from her fingers, and all she had left was the meat that she had remembered to clutch in her fall. Even her dignity was lying in the snow as Hisashi neared her position and Koemi understood that she’d been stopped.

[Money Converter: 1 ryo = 10 yen. $10 = 1088.14 yen = 108.81 ryo. This means a kunai is $45, for reference.]

[WC: 2340]

Kazuo had caught many thieves. While most samurai rarely bothered themselves with lowly criminals, the Shōi had often been sent to deal with lesser crimes as a part of their training, and so Kazuo had plenty of time gather experience apprehending thieves. He’d dealt with all types, those who steal to survive, the opportunistic cravens who preyed on the weak, and even a thrill seeker or two. Still, he’d never caught one quite so easily.

She flew straight into the swordsman, not even requiring him to move to catch her. Her garb was already a mess of tattered cloth and grime, but the fall had not treated her nicely. The rations which she had stolen flew everywhere across the ground, their glossy sheen fading into the white snow at his feet. Kazuo’s left hand would fall to the tsuka of his blade, his crimson eyes staring into hers, if he was able. His thumb would push the blade slightly from the sheathe, readying it in case it became necessary.

”Only the guilty run with such speed.” He said gruffly, the blade sliding from the saya in the blink of an eye. He felt Yomi’s silent pleas to turn back from the path that he was heading down change, and suddenly, she was hungry. The blade on his hip glowed with darkness, invisible in the light of day, hungering for the chakra of this girl. Yomi’s whispers grew louder and more animalistic as each moment passed.

Kazuo blinked, and as if within the brief moment of darkness that encompassed him, Yomi appeared, sitting beside the girl, her knees tucked into her chest. Her blonde hair was a mess, her dark eyes looked as if she hadn’t slept in days. He wondered if she was appearing this way on purpose, to make Kazuo feel sorrow for what he was doing. It wasn’t working. Yet.

”She has it coming, Kazuo.” She said, the blade at his belt singing quietly to him. ”You’d be doing the world a favor if you gave her to me. All you have to do is draw your sword…” She said, her eyes looking with hunger and distdain at the girl beside her. ”Look at the man she’s just stolen from, Kazuo. He looks like she was dear to him. Maybe she just robbed her daddy. Someone like that is just a waste of good chakra…” Yomi tempted. Kazuo’s eyes visibly twitched, his brow furrowing. He could see the ragged, tattered clothes she was wearing. Her skin was white as snow, she was likely freezing. She didn’t look like she’d eaten in awhile. Kazuo had always hated aprehending the desperate.

”I will give you one decision.” Kazuo’s lips moved to speak, Yomi’s eyes widening in joy. ”Leave the pills here and come with me, or I’ll bring you to the guards myself. Make your choice.” He spoke, the blade on his belt vibrating with power as he spoke. He had given her the choice, the rest was up to her.