In Shuji's terms from his previous life, the Land of Rivers was like a demilitarized zone in the shinobi world.
It had a daimyo who ruled, a working bureaucracy, and even sword-bearing samurai. It did not have a shinobi village.
In a world where chakra decided the balance of power, that was like walking naked among wolves.
Once trouble went beyond what a blade could solve, they could only send commissions to Konoha, to the Hidden Sand, even to the Hidden Rain, and trade money for foreign force.
This odd political ecology had given rise to border towns like Koizumi, warped yet full of life.
The town had no soaring walls and no stern checkpoints. A single dirt road wound through it.
Spices from the Land of Wind and mountain delicacies from the Land of Fire converged here. The air always held a mixed scent of goods from afar.
Uchiha Itachi sat in an unremarkable eatery. A bowl of steaming beef stew rested before him. A faint confusion flickered in his eyes.
Their schedule had gone by the book. They reached the border, completed the handover with local officials, took the brief on the bandits, then paid a visit to the merchants' guild as usual.
"Just a few petty thieves," said the guild's head, a plump, well-kept man with a pleasant smile. He twirled a neatly trimmed mustache and spoke with airy indifference.
"They did hit a few caravans. Trade has been a little inconvenienced." Then came the long courtesies and empty well-wishes. The core request was simple. Konoha should resolve the issue quickly.
Faced with such near-perfunctory attitude, Senior Shuji showed no ripple on his face.
He recorded the information by the book. It was no different from what the mission scroll contained. Then the topic shifted. "Koizumi brings together the goods of three countries. I imagine you have everything."
"Of course, of course." The smile widened.
"I have heard the Land of Rivers has distinctive beef." Shuji sounded as casual as discussing the weather.
The man's eyes lit up. He recommended warmly. "You have good taste, sir. For the true flavor, Saemon's braised beef is the town's signature. You cannot miss it."
At that, Senior Shuji seemed to lose interest in further talk and took his leave politely. Now they were seated in a small shop called Saemon.
Itachi looked into the earthenware bowl in front of him. Amber broth rippled gently. Large chunks of beef, stewed to a perfect doneness, loomed and sank. The grain was soft. A light touch of the chopsticks teased apart clean, distinct fibers.
Red-brown pieces soaked in a rich sauce. A sheen of fat glowed on the surface. Bright green scallions dotted the top. Steam rose with the warm perfume of star anise and cassia. It mingled with the beef's mellow savor. The aroma alone woke the tongue.
"Senior," Itachi could not hold it in. He kept his voice very low. "Are we not going to do the mission?"
"We will do the mission." Shuji answered offhand as he lifted a trembling piece of beef and placed it in his mouth.
The meat melted on his tongue, the soft richness unfolding at once. The beef's deep savor filled his mouth with a subtle spice. His eyes narrowed in wordless satisfaction.
The shinobi world was tight and stifling. With that bite of beef, Shuji felt the world was not so bad after all.
Itachi helplessly picked up his chopsticks and murmured, "I'm starting."
Seeing that, Shuji's lips curved. He raised his hand to the figure busy behind the counter. "Master, another serving please."
His gaze rested on the lean shopkeeper who was carefully wiping a jar. His eyes held genuine praise. "Your control of heat is superb. The sauce has the right weight. It does not drown the dish. It brings out the beef's true flavor."
At his words, Saemon's bronzed face brightened.
He wiped his hands on a well-worn apron. The lines at his eyes eased. "You are a connoisseur. We use the best beef delivered fresh from the ranch every morning. It takes hours of slow stewing to get this taste. To master the balance takes as much effort as studying a fine jutsu." He had noticed the Konoha emblem on the boy's forehead protector, so he chose a comparison shinobi would understand.
"Would you like to try our grilled beef too? I have two choice cuts left today," Saemon offered with warmth.
"Please do," Shuji agreed with pleasure.
A small charcoal brazier came to the table. The shopkeeper served them himself and laid the meat on the grate. "These are short ribs. They are well marbled. And this is zabuton. It is tender. Would you like me to grill for you?"
"Thank you. I would," Shuji said with a smile. He watched the meat sizzle, fat dripping and hissing, and asked in a tone of idle chat, "I hear things have been unsafe near Koizumi these days. Bandits have been active. Has your beef supply stayed smooth?"
"Bandits..." Saemon flipped the slices with practiced ease. Fat hit the coals with a cheerful hiss. A wisp of smoke rose, fragrant with char. "It is true. Though word is, it is mostly new caravans from outside who do not know the routes. My suppliers are ranches of decades. They know the roads and the people. No trouble for them. You may be at ease."
"And caravans are careful now. Most wait until they can hire enough guards before they set out. They also make fewer stops," he added.
The hand holding Itachi's chopsticks paused almost imperceptibly. The guild had never mentioned that the bandits were "selective" in their targets. That was a key detail.
"Please enjoy." Saemon divided the perfectly grilled beef onto their plates.
By the time Shuji finished the sumptuous meal at his own pace, the setting sun had gilded the roofs of Koizumi Town with a warm orange-red. The street crowds had thinned. From afar came the shouts of caravans unloading and storing their goods. A light wind blew. It carried the clean scent of grass and trees at the forest's edge. It mixed with the lingering food smells of the market that felt somehow reassuring. Shuji drew in a long breath of the border town's unique air.
The food was excellent. It was expensive too. The bill came to 750 ryō. By the currency standard in his memories, that was several days of hard work for an ordinary person. Still, with a mission reward of thirty thousand ryō ahead, this bit of luxury was within bounds.
"Senior, should we go question the caravans that were attacked?" Itachi quickened his pace to keep up as Shuji walked toward the town gate.
"No need." Shuji did not slow. His gaze drifted toward Shirakawa Village, where lamps were starting to glow in the dusk. "We learned two things today."
"First, the bandits deliberately avoid caravans with deep ties to local people. That is why the guild, though outwardly cooperative, does not truly care. Their information is perfunctory."
"Second, the bandits had already escaped to the Land of Rain at first, yet they returned to raid along the Land of Rivers border where they are wanted. That kind of behavior points to two possibilities."
Shuji looked past the walls to the countryside. Scattered lights in the distance glittered in the thickening dark like fallen stars.
"Either they fled in such haste that they left behind something important and had to retrieve it." His eyes cut through the dusk and settled on the familiar outline of that village. "Or the answer is simpler. They belong here. It is not ignorance of danger. Their homes are here."
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