It had been less than a month since Ruichi last visited the Land of Hot Springs, and the familiar scent of sulfur stirred his memories.
"Hmm… the beef I had last time was pretty good. I should have it again. And then maybe bet on another turtle race tonight?"
Ruichi stretched lazily. "Alright then, Anko-sensei. Why don't you go ask around the red-light district? I'll check the hot springs and inns."
Anko rolled her eyes. "So you just want to soak in the hot springs and relax, leaving all the dirty, tiring work to me?"
"Oh, we can switch if you want. I'll go to the red-light district—"
"Forget it. You're still too young for that kind of place. I'll go instead."
The two split up.
Ruichi strolled leisurely down the street, asking at every hot spring inn he passed.
Many owners had indeed seen a middle-aged man with long white hair and a forehead protector bearing the character "Oil," but the timing varied. The most recent sighting had been about a month ago.
"Seriously… just how many times has Jiraiya been here? Should I just wait around?"
Just as he was about to head to the next inn, a commotion ahead caught his attention.
Several carriages piled high with crates were parked in front of a hot spring inn, while staff carrying camera equipment hurried in and out.
"Cut! That won't do! Fujikaze Yukie, your expression is too stiff!"
"Director, I—"
"Forget it. That's enough for today. We'll shoot again tomorrow. Go back and really think about your character's inner state."
Ruichi raised an eyebrow. Drawing closer, he realized that a film crew had booked the entire hot spring inn for filming.
As the staff packed up, a young woman in costume sat alone on the stone steps at the entrance.
"Fujikaze Yukie… so it really is Fukago Koyuki."
He recognized her at once. Compared to the poster, she looked dispirited, lacking the shine one would expect of a star.
Uninterested in lingering, Ruichi walked straight up to the innkeeper.
"Excuse me. Have you seen a middle-aged man recently? Long white hair, forehead protector with the character 'Oil,' and a lecherous look on his face?"
The owner thought for a moment. "Ah, that guy? He was here about a month ago. Hah, you won't be seeing him anytime soon."
"Huh? Why?"
"That bastard got caught peeping while claiming he was 'gathering material.' All of us owners banned him. No idea where he ran off to, but he's not in our hot spring town anymore. Bad for business."
"Then waiting here won't help…" Ruichi nodded, preparing to leave.
At that moment, Fukago Koyuki suddenly spoke up.
"Um… the white-haired man you mentioned—does he call himself the Toad Sage?"
Ruichi stopped and turned around.
"Yes. That's him. Have you seen him?"
She nodded hesitantly, avoiding his gaze. "Half a month ago, in the Land of Rice Fields… he tried to hit on me at a bar."
Ruichi's eyes brightened. This was a solid lead.
"Could you tell me more? Let me buy you a drink."
…
Night fell, and the three sat in a private room at a bar.
"Fujikaze Yukie? Little sister, that name sounds so artistic!"
Anko, already flushed after a few drinks, was calling Fukago Koyuki "sister."
"It's just a stage name. Actors need something that sounds nice."
Two women who had both lived through misfortune and long existed in the shadows quickly found an odd sense of resonance under the influence of alcohol.
Ruichi didn't drink. He quietly picked at side dishes, listening.
From Fukago Koyuki's fragmented account, he confirmed that Jiraiya had indeed appeared in the Land of Rice Fields and was likely still active there.
His objective had been achieved. Now all that remained was to finish the drink and drag Anko back.
"Hey, Ruichi, are you even listening?" Anko leaned against him, her face red. "Don't just sit there. Say something interesting!"
It was clear this wouldn't end anytime soon.
"A story… I do know one," Fukago Koyuki said suddenly, a complex emotion flashing in her eyes. "A story about a princess."
"A princess?" Anko's eyes lit up. "Tell us!"
"Once upon a time, there was a small country. Its ruler was kind and beloved by his people. He had a daughter and a younger brother."
"The younger brother coveted the throne. One day, he hired ninja to stage a coup, killed the ruler, and seized power. The ruler's daughter—the little princess—was forced to flee to a foreign land."
"That's awful!" Anko slammed the table. "That uncle's a complete monster! What happened next? She took back her country, right?"
"After that…" Fukago Koyuki's voice carried a trace of mockery. "The little princess realized she couldn't do anything. In the end… she ran away and never returned."
"What? That's so boring," Anko said, clearly disappointed. "She's a princess. How could she just give up like that? Ruichi, don't you think so?"
Ruichi, still calmly eating, replied casually, "Running away is also a choice."
Both women looked at him.
Anko frowned. "What kind of choice is that? That's way too irresponsible."
Ruichi lifted his teacup, his tone flat, as if discussing the weather. "Why do you think a princess is obligated to return?"
"Of course she is!" Anko shot back.
"Why?" Ruichi looked at Fukago Koyuki. His gaze held no judgment, only curiosity. "Because of her bloodline? Or because her people need her?"
Fukago Koyuki tightened her grip on her glass. "…Both, I guess."
"Being born into royalty is luck, not ability," Ruichi said calmly. "As for the people—what they truly need is someone who can make their lives better, not someone who was simply born well."
Anko opened her mouth to argue, but couldn't find the words.
"I've traveled to many places," Ruichi continued. "What common people talk about most is never 'whether the lord's rule is legitimate,' but 'are the taxes heavy this year, and can we eat our fill.'"
He looked at Fukago Koyuki. "If that uncle governs well and the people live in peace, then if the princess returns and stirs up war—would that really be responsible to the people?"
Fukago Koyuki lowered her head, her face turning pale.
"On the other hand," Ruichi went on evenly, "if the princess truly believes she can do better, she can't expect people to follow her just because she says, 'I am the princess.' She has to offer something others can't."
He smiled faintly—not warm, but not mocking either. "Of course, these are just the words of a bystander."
The room fell silent, broken only by Anko muttering, "That sounds way too complicated…"
Taking advantage of the lull, Ruichi stood and helped the unsteady Anko to her feet.
"It's late. We should head back. Thanks for the information."
He paid the bill and dragged Anko into the night.
He was only a passerby who happened to hear a story and offered a few bystander's thoughts.
What the listener chose to think afterward was never his concern.
------
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