WAP Chapter 12

Man, Madara was gonna owe him for this one.

Izuna readjusted the wooden bar over his shoulder and fought the urge to sneeze the stink of iron out of his nose. That clearing had been rank. This was already a weird diplomatic outreach and he had no way to report that actually, he was making a fun little detour to the capital. So he was also going to get yelled at.

‘Come to think of it, a bloody clearing is kind of an odd place to put a priestess in a travel box and start a trip to visit the Daimyo. Was it from some kind of human sacrifice to ensure good luck on her trip? Was her house too dirty for guests?’

He flipped through increasingly silly explanations to keep himself entertained. Perhaps the Priestess was actually dead, and this was an elaborate cover up. Perhaps the woman in the box was an imposter, and that was why she wouldn’t speak.

He probably could have said he’d wait for her to come back. Izuna spent a few kilometers running wishing that he had.

‘But I’d have to wait with that frowny girl.’

Well, to hell with that. She could take her weird attitude and non sequiturs about age and- and become a productive member of society, since she was such an adult that she was going to have a real human baby to be an example for.

‘What would I do with a human baby?’

Huh. He didn’t know. Izuna frowned. Wow, he wasn’t ready for a baby at all. Who would watch it when he was busy? Madara? Toka? HA! Unlikely. They were always busy at the same time.

..He was starting to get a bit worried.

“You alright there?”

Izuna startled back to the real world when the officious lady called out to him from the front of the carry box. He blinked at her. “Yes, thank you,” he said. “I’m doing well.”

She gave him a look, her mouth slightly twisted down. “If you say so.” One of her companions let out a sigh that she ignored. “Let us do the talking when we get to the capital.”

He blinked at her. He had never considered that he might take the lead. “Of course,” he agreed. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

The other two people carrying the box snickered. Izuna wondered why, but he didn’t waste too much effort on it.

‘I still have the gift in my bag,’ he remembered. Izuna shifted his weight. It was heavy, now that he was thinking about it. Grandmother had sent him off with 2 liters of sake that she’d made herself, which was a rather kingly gift. It sloshed a little with his movements, but it was so full that there wasn’t much room for the liquid to go.

‘I wonder who these ninja are. It feels so gauche not doing introductions, but we’d probably have to fight each other if we exchanged names,’ Izune mused morosely. His well-honed sense of politesse was nagging at his hindbrain.

But the other three people carrying the box were obviously also shinobi. And he didn’t recognize them as Uchiha allies, so they were probably as good as enemies.

If he’d been any other clan member, he probably would have turned back around for the village. But Izuna was the second-strongest shinobi in his clan. He could probably kill everyone here, if they turned on him. If they recognized him, they would know it too. The list of people on the continent that could meet him in outright battle had less than 10 people on it, probably.

‘And whoever they are, they’re not that important.’

So he easily ignored the very weird undertones of whatever super subtle conversation the other three shinobi were having. It wasn’t his business! His business was making the weird priestess like him, giving her alcohol, and convincing her that her whole home would probably be burnt to the ground if she didn’t make friends with the Uchiha.

“Let’s take a break,” the boss lady said.

Izuna was glad to set down the load and stretch. He glanced up at the sky and did some math to guess at how long they’d been traveling. They were making good time, at least. Izuna rolled his neck and stole a glance at the woman who was obviously in charge. She looked …normal.

He would admit that he was a little disappointed by that.

Her clothes were modest and practical, and she wasn’t especially pretty or noble looking. The only way to tell that she was in charge was that she actually told people what to do.

‘Definitely not one of the noble families, then, even though they’re obviously a clan.’

“Smarten up,” she barked at her people. Izuna jumped to obey before he realized what he was doing. He found himself moving to smooth his clothes as well, brushing off dust from the road and doing what he could to clean his shoes. “I don’t want to embarrass the priestess.”

Izuna pursed his lips and glanced at the travel box.

The priestess had been utterly silent. The only proof that a person was in the box was the weight and the occasional sound of silk rustling.

‘She must be very disciplined,’ he had to admit. ‘I hope she’s more exciting than this other lady.’ He stole another glance, as if hoping that she would be more exotic or scary at a second look. She still looked normal. She could have been from any farm town, with her round face and dark brown hair. ‘Maybe the priestess is really pretty. The boss is definitely acting as if the priestess is a grand lady.’

…Oh, he realized. That wasn’t normal at all. A priestess of a shrine in the middle of a 15 hut hamlet should not have business with the Daimyo. Had she actually secured an invitation? That would be notable. There would have to be a really compelling reason. Even the Uchiha only got one invitation per year.

Fishy! Izuna perked up. Something interesting was going to happen. He knew it. He crossed his fingers.

‘I am definitely going to have something to report to aniki.’

He was much cheerier when they picked the travel box back up to make the last leg of the journey. The city came into view and with it came the sounds of people compressed into too little space.

Izuna sniffed at the air as they walked in. There was the unpleasant scent of sweat from too many bodies, yes, but there was also the smell of fried chicken and of open sake. They passed a group of workmen seated on a wall overlooking the road, obviously on their meal break. Conversation stopped as the small entourage walked by. Izuna nodded at the man who appeared to be the leader. The civilian frowned and looked away.

Weird!

Everywhere they went, conversation stopped and they got odd looks. Izuna was starting to get an uneasy feeling. He was pretty sure that something was wrong by the time that they reached the gates of the palace.

“What’s your business?”

Izuna expected the boss lady to speak, but she and the other woman kept their eyes cast down while the only other man present spoke. “The priestess of the valley town is here to see the Daimyo.”

His tone was perfectly bland. Izuna didn’t see what was so upsetting about it, but the civilian went stiff.

The guard seemed to stop breathing. He looked at the four shinobi, but he had open fear on his face when he looked at the box.

There was the soft sound of wood moving. A small hand draped in elegant layers slipped out to gesture them on. Wow, that was a lot of layers. Izuna squinted with the effort to count without using his sharingan. 10?

‘She is glamorous!’ he thought triumphantly.

The guard blanched. “Go on,” he said, taking three steps back rapidly. “Open the gate,” he called to his comrades.

That had been surprisingly easy. They always got stuck waiting for a retainer to escort them in when the Uchiha visited. ‘I wonder why? Maybe the Daimyo isn’t having a busy day.’ Izuna gave the man a cheerful nod as they went past.

They made it up the grand lawn, to the spot where they should stop and let the lady walk- and okay, they were carrying her all the way. Into the palace? Izuna bit his lower lip. He was beginning to wonder what was going on.

“What are you doing?” a female servant in very expensive robes cried. She gestured at them to stop. The three layers of her kimono flared in the air. “The Daimyo is busy. Why did they let you in? There are no further visitors today.”

The boss lady gave her an expression that stopped the woman in her silly tracks. “We’ve brought the priestess from the valley,” she said in a silken tone. “An expected arrival, yes?”

The servant looked at the box. The door opened again a sliver. This time, no hand poked out, but the servant must have seen the lady. Her mouth dropped open. The door shut decisively. “Oh,” the servant said, and fell to the ground in a dead faint.

…Huh.

They stepped around her and up into the entry. No one set down their burden, instead struggling through taking their shoes off without using their hands. It was a little undignified. Truth be told, Izuna was beginning to feel a little put out about how rude they were being. It was embarrassing.

‘I am leaving a lot of details out of what I tell aniki,” he decided grimly. ‘If he knows I carried this dusty box into the Daimyo’s home, he will scold me severely.’

Maybe he really should have gotten names. He stole increasingly desperate glances at the back of the boss lady’s head, wondering what was going on in there. Maybe he was involved in something that was not good?

He felt his shoulders hunch up before he hurriedly corrected his posture.

‘Act dignified,’ Izuna reminded himself. ‘If something goes wrong, I’ll just explain that I’m not really involved.’

There was an excited scuffle ahead of feet and fabric moving towards them, and people whispering. Try as he might, Izuna couldn’t see. His angle prevented him from seeing exactly who was outside the grand door.

“The Daimyo is in an audience,” someone hissed in a whisper. “You must stop!”

Izuna stopped obediently, and then the forward momentum of the carry box lurched him forward with a quiet ‘oof’. They weren’t stopping? Alright, Izuna thought hysterically, why not. He licked his lips and decided to just see what would happen. The boss lady shoved the doors open with one hand and they strode in without stopping.

Outrage erupted in the courtroom.

“What is this?” some old man cried.

Izuna ducked his head. ‘...If someone recognizes me, the Uchiha might get in trouble.’

He repressed the urge to laugh nervously. He was committed now, to whatever this is.

The Daimyo stood abruptly. “Who comes before this one?” He sounded furious. Oh, man, Izuna did not want to be recognized. He looked intently at his feet. That was why it took him a moment to notice the unleashed chakra signature of another shinobi.

Izuna jerked his face up and leaned over to see the formidable bulk of a bounty hunter. The man was half-facing them, but had obviously been in an audience with the Daimyo. He was the only other person on the floor. The surrounding courtiers were all on cushions on a raised dais around the room. He had a bloody burlap bag.

“Daimyo-sama,” the boss lady said demurely, as if she hadn’t just broken several rules that Izuna hadn’t even known existed. “This one believes that you desired the presence of the Priestess of the Valley.”

The Daimyo turned a truly concerning purple. “I desired her head!” he hissed.

…Izuna felt his heart sink into his stomach. He might be in with the wrong crowd. Oh, hell. Oh, shit.

“And you have it,” said the bounty hunter hurriedly. He gave them a nasty look and opened up his bloody bag. He withdrew a head by long, reddish blonde hair and held it up. “This is she.” It was an exotic face in general, Izuna thought, hair aside. She had been quite pale with slightly pointed features and bright blue-green eyes. He felt vindicated that the Priestess had been interesting.

“Thank you, Kakuzu-san,” the head said mildly.

The bounty hunter froze.

The Daimyo let out a little erp sound.

Izuna leaned further out to double check. Yes. The head slowly spinning in the bounty hunter’s hand was… was talking.

“Would you put me back on my body, please?” Her voice was very soft, but cultured and definitely foreign.

Izuna was so fascinated that he almost missed the box opening fully for the first time. When the other three shinobi knelt he hastily did so as well. They let the box down to the tatami, where it left a ring of dust. Probably no one noticed the mess as the graceful figure of a young woman emerged from the box. She had a very large fan held demurely up, but from behind Izuna could see that she had no head at all. She took careful steps forwards, pulling the full train of her ridiculously extravagant kimono behind her. Izuna felt his eyes bulge out. He had never seen any garment that expensive. The Daimyo’s wife didn’t look that rich.

Ah, wait. Body with no head, en route to the palace. Head with no body, in a bag in the palace.

Oh, he thought, putting one and one together to get one again. That explained a lot, actually.

“Kakuzu-san?” the head prompted sweetly. “If you don’t mind, it would be much more civilized to conduct this conversation from my own shoulders.”

“Kill it!” the Daimyo shrieked. He threw himself back. “Monster!”

The bounty hunter gave the Daimyo a look, but he obeyed the priestess instead. He seemed a bit thunderstruck.

The priestess used one hand to hold her head in place and then snapped the fan shut. “Thank you,” she said crisply. All hell promptly broke loose in the court.