Chapter 12: Blue Morning, Blue Day
Exhausted, Yoshino looked around the room at the four masked faces. “I’m telling you, that’s all I know. I was with her the whole afternoon, she seemed fine. We went out to dinner and when we returned I took over the post that night. When I returned in the morning she was… Look!” she snapped, “we’ve been over this a dozen times already – we spent the entire day together. We ate at the same restaurant, I’ve given you the name. She seemed fine all day long – no symptoms of fever, nothing until we got back. What more do you want from me?”
“Sakamoto, this is an official investigation, I would have expected you to want to get to the bottom of your mission team leader’s death.” snapped back the voice of the jackal-masked ANUB, the one who had asked for her when she’d been picked up.
Sighing, Yoshino responded, “Of course, I’m just tired. Why’d you have to do this at midnight? And how many times are we going to go over the same things?”
“I think we are done with the questioning.” She thought the ANBU might actually be smiling behind his mask but it was tired and she honestly did not care. “We would like to put you in a light hypnotic state to see if there’s anything your conscious mind may have overlooked.”
Yoshino yawned, “Why didn’t you just do that in the first place,” she grumbled.
A second ANBU stepped forward and simply said, “I’m going to put you in a light trance…” and promptly did so. Yoshino felt light, warm, relaxed. She could hear her own voice sounding faint and far away as she answered their questions. It seemed to only take a few minutes and then she was shaking her head, almost as if waking up from a brief nap.
The first ANBU put his hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Sakamoto. I know this must have been difficult for you. Are you going to the memorial service this afternoon?”
Yoshino nodded slightly, she hadn’t forgotten, she just hadn’t wanted to think about it.
After the door of the room had closed behind her the first ANBU, the one with the jackal-masked crossed his arms over his chest and turned to face his partner. “So, did she see anything?”
The second, wearing a black and white cat-faced mask shook his head, “No, she didn’t see anything that would concern us. Didn’t noticed any of the shipment back at the camp.” He laughed under his mask, “Although…she does think your nephew is a jerk.”
It was hard to tell it but the first one rolled his eyes under his mask. “She isn’t the first girl to think that. Just as long as he doesn’t do anything to cause us any problems…”
“Right,” responded the second, “just as long…”
Sleep did not come easy to her that night, much to her surprise. Walking home in the dark after midnight her mind had been busy turning over the events back in Wave, wondering if there was anything she might have missed. What sleep she did manage to get was fitful, knowing that when she got up in the morning, she was going to have to go to Asako’s memorial service.
Asako! Anko! She got up out of bed and rummaged through the bag that was still lying in her closet that she had brought back from Wave. There in the bottom of the bag was the little pink coin purse Asako had bought for Anko. Yoshino cried, knowing she would have to be the one to give it to the little girl rather than her own mother.
Morning came and still exhausted, Yoshino rose and put on her black dress. It was a fact of shinobi life that black clothing was a standard part of the wardrobe, not your everyday wear, but often enough, too often as a matter of fact.
She was ready early, the service wasn’t for a couple more hours yet. Wondering what to do with herself, she found that she had wandered over near Shikaku’s apartment. She knocked at the door and after a moment he answered it, wearing pajama pants and no shirt.
“Yoshino! Come in,” he said opening the door wide to welcome her. He’d been worried and pissed off too about the ANBU business last night, and meaning to go by her house and check on her today to see how it went. Then he noticed her dark outfit.
“Oh, is Miterashi’s memorial today,” he asked feeling somewhat at a loss. Unless it was a high ranking person, someone known throughout the village, memorial services tended to be smaller family affairs. Of course, Yoshino had said she wasn’t all that close to Asako, but still , having been on her last misson with the woman just before…Well, it only made sense that she’d go.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…wake you… ,” she said taking in his pajamas, oddly amused by the fact that it was getting close to noon and he was still wearing them.
“What, oh, no, I was awake,” he mumbled wiping a hand over his face. “Come on in, do you want some coffee?”
She sat at the small table as he brought them two cups of coffee. “Cream? Or sugar?” he asked.
“No, just black is fine,” she replied hesitantly taking a sip but finding it to be not all that bad.
Shikaku was relieved because he wasn’t sure if there was any cream and if there was if it was spoiled or not. He was also rather unsure of the location of sugar in the apartment. He thought they might have some but had no idea where it was.
They talked for a bit and then Yoshino asked, “Do you…are you busy…today?” She really hoped he wasn’t busy and that maybe he would come with her this afternoon because this was honestly something she did not want to go to by herself. “Do you think you could go with me?”
“Sure,” he replied softly. “Sure, I can go. Let me go get changed.” He kissed the top of her head before he left the table.
A short while later he emerged freshly showered and wearing his own black tunic and hakama. To his surprise, Chouza and Inoichi were both up, eating rolled omelets and rice.
“She’s great, Shikaku, can we keep her?” Chouza smiled and mumbled through a mouthful of rice and egg.
Shikaku scowled wanting to pipe back that no they could not keep her when Yoshino spoke up, “Don’t talk with your mouthful, Chouza.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Shikaku motioned at the table.
Shrugging Yoshino answered, “They were hungry and I needed something to do. Do you want something to eat?”
“Ummm, … yeah,” he answered sheepishly. She smiled and prepared another omelet.
The service that afternoon was brief, but mournful. At the end of the ceremony, Yoshino and Shikaku spoke to Asako’s husband. “I, um, I have a … I was with Asako…that is…” Yoshino was stumbling over her words as she spoke to the man. Taking a deep breath she managed to complete her sentence. “I was with Asako in Wave. We went shopping and she had a present for Anko – I had it in my bags when I came back.” She handed the small package over to him.
“Why don’t you give it to her?” he said, motioning down to the little four year old girl who was doing her best to stand still beside him. “I’m sure she’d like to know her mother’s friend brought to her.”
Yoshino knelt down, Shikaku’s fingertips at her shoulders. “Hello, Anko,” she whispered.
“Are you a friend of my mother’s?” the little girl asked and Yoshino nodded.
“Are you a kunoichi like her?” Again, Yoshino nodded trying not to cry in front of her.
Anko pointed to herself with her own thumb, “I’m gonna be a kunoichi just like Omaasan, too.” she said proudly.
“Yes, Anko-chan, yes you are,” Yoshino agreed. “Here, your mother bought you a present and I’m just delivering it for her,” she floundered not knowing what else to say.
Anko opened the small package and held out the pink purse proudly. “Otousan! Look!” she said proudly holding it up and waving it.
“Yes, Anko-chan, I see. It’s very nice. Now we have to let them go on. We have other guests to greet.” He turned his attention to Yoshino and Shikaku. “She…doesn’t fully understand. I think she just thinks her mother is on a mission.”
The two younger shinobi nodded and offered their condolences and left. Walking along with her hand in hand, an idea came to Shikaku of just the right place to take her. “Come on,” he said, pulling her by the wrist.
Stopping back by his apartment to change he rummaged around for something for her also. Laughing and glad that he’d managed to do laundry a couple of days ago, he came up with a t-shirt that had shrunk when he’d washed it in the hot water and a pair of pants that sort of fit as long as she looped a belt around her waist a couple of times to hold them up and turned the cuffs up about six inches.
Looking at him askance, hardly daring to believe she was going outside with him dressed like this, Yoshino said, “You have got to be kidding me. I am not going out in public dressed this way.”
“You won’t be in public and besides, I don’t want you to get your dress dirty. Come on.” And taking her by her wrist again, they flew through the streets and bounded off into the direction of his clan’s lands.
He finally paused the two of them at the edge of a wooded area where it met a meadow. Flopping down on his back at the beginning of the grassy area he motioned for him to join her.
“What?” she asked, curious.
“Just sit. Lie back. Look at clouds, trees, whatever.”
“I can’t just sit.”
“Yes you can.”
“No, really, I cannot just sit still.” She laughed. “I just can’t. I have to be doing something.”
“Yes, you can,” he laughed back at her, pulling her down beside him, “for me.”
Yoshino sighed, and lay on her back, her head resting on his chest looking up at the clouds with him. She dozed off feeling his fingers ruffling in her hair, light breeze playing across the two of them in the late afternoon sunshine.
Sometime later she awoke to realize that the sun had almost set, shadows lengthened and it was near dusk. She realized that Shikaku must have been awake earlier and shifted to a sitting position with her head in his lap. She started to sit up but he put one hand on her shoulder holding her firmly down and a second finger to his lips instructing her to keep quiet.
Slowly and quietly she sat up and turned to face the same direction as he was, feeling his arm slip warm around her waist, pulling her to him. A soft whisper of a gasp escaped her lips as she saw the deer slipping from the shadows one by one to gaze in the sweet grass of the meadow. Shikaku kissed her on the cheek and murmured warmly in her ear, “See? There are some things you can only do if you’re still.”
