The high-end Ryokan district of Konoha didn't smell like the rest of the village. It didn't smell like dust, sweat, or roasted pork. It smelled like expensive cedar, polished floorboards, and money.
Naruto Uzumaki ran up the stone steps of the "Vermilion Sparrow" Inn, Sylvie keeping pace beside him. They were late.
"We're gonna get yelled at," Naruto hissed, adjusting his headband. "Kakashi-sensei is gonna give us the 'Look.' The one with the eye."
"Just look professional," Sylvie muttered, adjusting her dark glasses. "Act like we were doing recon."
They slid the main doors open.
They didn't walk into a briefing. They walked into a circus.
The lobby was chaos. People were running everywhere carrying boxes, lights, and strange metal poles. A man with a megaphone was shouting at a potted plant.
The flash of a camera popped repeatedly—fzzzt-pop... fzzzt-pop—blinding white bursts that left afterimages in Naruto's eyes.
In the center of the madness, Sandayū Asama—the manager—was tearing at his hair.
"She is gone!" Sandayū screamed, his face a mask of panic. "The sun rises in six hours! The lighting will be ruined! The schedule is bleeding!"
Neji stood near a pillar, looking like he wanted to seal his own ears. A man with thick glasses and a camera lens around his neck—Yomu—was practically climbing up Neji's vest.
"But the Byakugan," Yomu pressed, zooming a lens in on Neji's eyes. "Does it act like a wide-angle or a telephoto? If we put a filter on you, could you project the image? It would save us a fortune on film stock!"
Yomu smelled of stale coffee and hot electronics, a scent of burnt wire that made Neji's nose twitch in irritation.
Neji closed his eyes. "Please step back."
Over by the equipment crates, Tenten was deep in conversation with Konoha's Ninja Tool specialists—Iō and Shōseki—who were holding strange, spring-loaded umbrellas.
"So the needle launcher is hidden in the ribbing?" Tenten asked, eyes shining. "That's inefficient. If you moved the trigger to the handle..."
"Brilliant!" Iō gasped, scribbling on a napkin.
Tenten picked up one of the umbrellas; it clicked open with a satisfying, lethal snick, revealing steel ribs instead of wood.
Naruto scanned the room. Kakashi and Anko were trying to calm Sandayū down. Sasuke was leaning against a wall, looking bored.
A tall man with spiky hair and a confident grin walked past Sylvie. It was Kin, the actor who played Brit. He stopped, looking at Sylvie's new tactical vest and dark glasses.
"Wait," Sylvie said, blinking behind her shades. "The ramen shop. You toasted me."
Kin grinned, resting a prop sword on his shoulder. "I toasted the hustle, kid. Smart move with the sign."
He winked and walked off into the crowd.
Kakashi spotted them. He waved them over.
"You're late," Kakashi said, though he didn't look surprised. "But you're just in time for the legwork."
"What's going on?" Naruto asked, looking at the screaming manager.
"The client is missing," Anko said, cracking her knuckles. "Our 'Princess' got cold feet. She bolted about twenty minutes ago."
"Bolted?" Naruto clenched his fists. "Is she in danger? Did the enemy take her?"
"In a manner of speaking," Kakashi sighed. "She's taken herself hostage. She's drunk, she's fleeing the country, and she has her own security detail chasing her. Go find her before she leaves the village."
"Got it!" Naruto shouted, turning on his heel. "Don't worry, Captain Sandayū! I'll save the Princess from the evil... uh... alcohol!"
The search led them to the Gokuraku District—the playground for the wealthy.
The streets here were wider, paved with smooth slate instead of dirt. Paper lanterns glowed in soft reds and golds, illuminating signs that Naruto usually only saw from a distance.
Lobster King.
Fine Kimono Silk.
Paulownia Wood Crafters.
Premium Sushi.
It was bright, loud, and smelled terrifyingly expensive.
A shamisen player plucked a tune nearby—pling-plang—the notes sharp and precise, cutting through the murmur of the crowd.
"I'm starving," Naruto mumbled, clutching his stomach.
He stopped at a stall that was grilling chicken skewers. The smell of charcoal and tare sauce was hypnotic. It cut through the perfume of the district like a kunai.
"One skewer," Naruto told the vendor, tossing coins onto the counter. "Extra skin. Crispy."
He grabbed the yakitori, blowing on the steam. He turned around to scan the crowd.
And there she was.
Stumbling out of a high-end establishment called the Grand Tavern (Daidai Sakaba) was a woman.
She wore a heavy cloak over a kimono that looked like it cost more than Naruto's entire life. Her hair was messy. Her face was flushed red. She was holding a sake bottle by the neck like a club.
She reeked of cheap, sweet alcohol—the kind that stuck to your clothes and promised a headache before you even finished the cup.
Yukie Fujikaze. Princess Fūun.
"I won't... go back..." she slurred, yelling at a lamp post. "Tell the witch... I quit!"
Naruto froze, the yakitori halfway to his mouth.
This was the hero? This was the warrior who fired the Rainbow Chakra Cannon? She looked like the old guys who slept behind the bar in the Red Light District.
"There she is!" a voice shouted.
Three men in full samurai armor—lacquered red plates, horned helmets, and face masks—burst out of an alleyway. They looked terrifying. To Naruto's eyes, they were villains straight out of a history book.
"Seize her!" the lead Samurai yelled.
Yukie shrieked. She threw the sake bottle at them—it missed by a mile—and took off running.
"HEY!" Naruto shouted, biting the meat off his skewer in one motion and tossing the stick. "LEAVE THE PRINCESS ALONE!"
He bolted after them.
Yukie was fast for a drunk person. She wasn't running like a ninja; she was running like a pinball, bouncing off obstacles with reckless abandon.
She clipped a hanging lantern, sending it swinging wildly—creak-creak—casting dizzying shadows on the pavement.
She swerved to the left, crashing past a shop with a sign that read Natto Specialty.
The smell hit Naruto like a physical wall. The stench of fermented beans was thick and pungent, mixing with the yakitori smoke in his throat.
Naruto's eyes watered, the ammonia-like tang of the natto stinging his sinuses.
"Ugh!" Naruto gagged, covering his nose but keeping his pace.
Yukie stumbled, nearly tripping over a display of straw-wrapped beans. The samurai were gaining on her, their armor clanking loudly.
"Get back here, my Lady!" one of the armored men roared.
"NEVER!" Yukie screamed.
She veered right, toward a stall with a massive glass tank full of water. The sign above it read Crustacean (Shellfish).
She clipped the corner of the tank.
SPLASH.
Water sloshed over the side, drenching the pavement. A crab fell out, scuttling angrily across the stones.
Click-clack-click.
Its claws tapped a frantic rhythm as it sought shelter under a bench.
Yukie slipped on the wet slate, flailing her arms, but somehow managed to stay upright, using her momentum to skid around the corner.
"Stop!" Naruto yelled, leaping over the crab. "I'm here to help!"
"NO MORE NINJA!" Yukie wailed, not looking back.
She ducked into a cloud of white fog.
The Bathhouse (Yūyū) vents were pumping steam into the street. For a second, she vanished completely. Naruto charged into the mist, blindly groping the air.
"Where'd she go?!"
He burst out the other side just in time to see her knock over a crate at the Greengrocer.
Dozens of long, white Daikon radishes rolled across the street like logs. The lead samurai tripped, crashing to the ground with a sound like a bag of silverware falling down stairs.
A daikon crunched under Naruto's heel—squelch—releasing a sharp, peppery scent of raw radish.
Yukie didn't stop. She was gasping for air, clutching her side.
She stumbled past a cluster of medical signs. Dentist. Ear Clinic.
She was running blindly, her eyes wild with panic. She nearly ran headfirst into a low-hanging wooden beam marked with a yellow Caution (Shōshin) sign. At the last second, she ducked, her cloak snagging on a nail and ripping.
Naruto picked up speed. He was closing the distance. He could hear her ragged breathing.
Then, she stopped.
She slammed into a wall next to a brightly lit shop window.
It was a Toy Shop.
Naruto slowed down, wary of trapping her.
The sign above the shop was old. Faded paint on wood. It depicted a drum with three swirling comma shapes.
A Mitsudomoe, Naruto thought, his brain making a fuzzy connection. Like the fan on Sasuke's back. Or the police crest.
It looked weird here. Old. Out of place next to the shiny neon of the lobster sign. Like a ghost stamped on a child's kite.
The neon light from the toy shop buzzed—hummmmmm—a low, electric drone that seemed to vibrate the old wood of the sign.
Yukie leaned against the wall, sliding down slightly. Above her head was a vertical sign for a fortune teller or a philosophy shop.
Jinsei Yamatani.
Life has Peaks and Valleys.
Yukie looked up at the sign. She stared at the words Peaks and Valleys. She let out a laugh that sounded more like a sob.
"Valleys," she whispered, her voice bitter. "It's all valleys."
She slumped, her silk kimono rustling against the rough brick—swish-scritch—a sound of expensive fabric being ruined.
Naruto reached out a hand. "Hey! Princess! It's okay!"
Yukie's head snapped toward him. She saw the forehead protector. She saw the ninja sandals.
Her eyes hardened. The fear turned into something sharp and desperate.
"No," she hissed.
She pushed off the wall, spinning on her heel, and vanished down a narrow alleyway before Naruto could grab her.
"Dammit!" Naruto cursed, sprinting past the Peaks and Valleys sign. "She's fast!"