The moment Harada saw the two travellers entering his inn, he said goodbye to his plans for a peaceful afternoon restocking the inventory.



The woman was unremarkable in every way, dressed in ordinary farmer’s clothes with her hair tied up in a simple but practical ponytail. He wouldn’t have given her a second glance were she not a customer. The man, on the other hand…



The pot belly Harada could accept (and even sympathise with). The hooked nose was unfortunate, but people couldn’t help the way they were made. But the clothes… The man looked like he’d heard how human beings dressed from rumours and hearsay, and then tried to imitate them by robbing one of those travelling entertainer troupes.



Harada looked him over from top to bottom. A rice farmer’s broad-brimmed hat. Shoulder straps leading to a tanner’s apron. Mercenary boiled leathers beneath the straps. The whole ensemble partially covered by a short-cut jacket that Harada thought might have been fashionable in his grandfather’s time. Oversized blacksmith’s gloves. Kabuki actor clogs.



Harada’s examination was interrupted as the man raised a hand imperiously and pointed his index finger right at Harada’s nose.



“Lowly peasant, I command thee-“



“Ahem!” the woman cut in quickly. “What my lor- err, my mast- err, my friend means to say is that he would like to ask you a few questions about the nearby hot springs. Unfortunately,” she gave the man a pointed look, “he is recovering from an illness of the throat, and so I will have to speak on his behalf.”



Harada nodded carefully. “Of course. What would your… friend… like to know?”



“Well,” the woman began, “to begin with, can you recommend us a good resort?”



“Of course, madam. My cousin works at the Imomura Hot Springs, and I can tell you with confidence that it is the very-“



“Absolutely not,” the man interrupted in a high-pitched, whiny voice. “Lord Kamachi patronises the Imomura Hot Springs. I refuse to-“



“Are there any other hot springs you can suggest?” the woman asked loudly.



Harada quickly went down the list.



“Mizuchi Hot Springs?”



“Lord Ijiwara.”



“Mishima Hot Springs?”



“Lord Kimura.”



“Mizutani Hot Springs?”



After a quick glance at the man, the woman gave him a happy smile. “Please, tell us more.”



Harada considered. “Mizutani has a reputation for safety and security. It’s where important people go to rest and re… resomething. Recuperate, that’s it!



“They have real ninja guarding the place,” he added, “and fierce guard dogs to keep out thieves and peeping toms.”



“My,” the woman put a hand to her mouth. “How dangerous. Real ninja, you say?”



Harada nodded. “Oh, yes. They’ve got a full team of three Sannin there right now.”



The man and the woman blinked simultaneously. “Sannin?”



“Oh, oops. I mean sennin.”



The man and the woman looked at each other. “Three sennin?”



Harada frowned. “Does that not sound right?



“Oh, wait, genin. That’s what they’re called.”



The woman gave him an unreadable look.



“That sounds terribly impressive,” she said after a second’s pause. “So, purely hypothetically, a place like that must be appropriate for travelling noblemen, then?”



“I’d say so,” Harada agreed. “They get all sorts. Dignitaries, wealthy merchants, even the occasional injured ninja.”



“Ninja guests?” the woman asked in surprise. “But isn’t it terribly dangerous for injured ninja to be out in public? I thought they all went around killing each other all the time.”



Harada couldn’t help laughing. “You’re really not from around here, are you? The Land of Hot Springs is an official de-somethinged zone, by treaty. Any ninja trying to ply their craft here is going to have Hidden Springs come down on them like a ton of bricks, and the other villages are supposed to help.”



“So the ninja here don’t go around getting in everyone’s business the way they do back home?” the woman asked.



“They’re pretty laid-back,” Harada said. “They get the megalodon’s share of the taxes here, and since Hot Springs gets so many wealthy visitors, far more than those wannabes in the Country of the Wave, not to mention having a wonderful climate for growing fruit, our ninja don’t have to work as hard as, say, those butchers from Hidden Mist.”



The woman raised her eyebrows.



“Everyone knows Mist wants to conquer Hot Springs and take away our freedom,” Harada explained in a matter-of-fact voice (since he was stating the bleeding obvious). “If we weren’t on such good terms with Hidden Leaf, who knows what might become of us, treaty or no treaty.”



The woman, still listening attentively, reached back and tugged at her ponytail, adjusting the ribbon it was tied back with.



Suddenly, the man leaned back. “No, wait. Mizutani! That’s where Lord Sagara goes for his old sports injury!”



The woman sighed. “Could you please tell us about some other hot springs, sir?”

​

-o-

​

“…and then we swapped roles over in the next town, and Kagome practised gathering information while I drew attention off him whenever he was having trouble,” Inoue-sensei went on, luxuriating in a soft armchair after a day on her feet apparently pretending to be a variety of dubious individuals. It was long past dark, and by mutual agreement the team had decided not to say a word about their work until they’d been suitably filled with hot soup.



“’Oh, is it true that the hot springs are full of beautiful young women, frolicking about without a shred of clothing?’” Inoue-sensei asked in her best lecherous voice. Hazō and Keiko shivered involuntarily at the aura of naked lust that briefly surrounded her, while Noburi’s face took on a dreamy expression for a second before he caught himself.



“What about you, kids?” she asked with a smug grin.



Hazō went first. “The Mizutani Hot Springs are surrounded by a wooden palisade fence about ten feet tall. At the south end, there is a large gate which sees regular traffic, with stables and an entry building. Behind the entry building is a large two-floor inn, probably with the actual hot spring baths further back. Outside, there are regular patrols – I counted four groups of three civilian guards armed with clubs and spears, and each group had a dog. There’s also at least one ninja, on an irregular patrol schedule I couldn’t work out.”



“There are more than four groups of guards,” Keiko added, “but only four are on duty at any given time. Two groups are replaced every hour. The dogs are Shiba dogs, and I speculate that the breed was chosen for its friendly appearance which appeals to visitors, combined with keen hunting instincts and its notorious ability to scream loudly when provoked.



“My second cousin had several Shiba dogs,” she added thoughtfully. “They behaved in a reserved fashion towards me, but were never hostile the way other breeds have been in the past.”



Noburi took over. “The inn does business with two main suppliers: Wakamoto and Sons, based out of Ijima, for food, and Imagawa, whose location I don’t know yet, for sundries like linens and stuff. Wakamoto’s delivers carts of fresh food at around 9 am every morning, and a bigger delivery every Saturday. Imagawa delivers every Sunday, plus various mid-week orders as necessary.



“Wakamoto’s has done business with them for at least thirty years, but Imagawa got a contract only recently, after the previous supplier tried to cheat a ninja and it ended badly.”



Everyone looked at Noburi. “Wow,” Hazō said. “How did you manage to get all that?”



Noburi shrugged. “I followed a couple of servants out on errands, waited for the right opportunity, then talked to them while they picked things up in town. They also told me that the proprietress’s daughter is pregnant, father unknown, there are two nobles fighting over the attention of a female ninja with a hurt leg, and there’s a creepy guy with hollow eyes and a big curved sword staying on the second floor. Oh, and someone really important is coming soon, but they don’t know who.”



“Huh,” Hazō said. “What about you, Akane?”



“I mostly ran interference,” Akane said cheerfully. “Somebody had to keep the boys busy while Noburi chatted up the girls.”



All eyes turned to Noburi again.



“It wasn’t like that!” he insisted after a brief glance at Keiko and her sceptical expression. “I was only buying them lunch so they’d open up to me! Stop looking at me like that!”



“They grow up so fast,” Inoue-sensei sighed, wiping an imaginary tear from her eye as Kagome looked on in bemusement.

​

-o-

​

You have earned 3 XP.

​

-o-

​

Noburi reports that walls are not relevant to Vampiric Dew’s sensory powers.



Research on the Macerator is complete, with only a couple of close brushes with Hazō's mortality.



What next?​

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