WAP chapter 9

Aiko was still shaken the next morning. She laid in bed and watched her ceiling, aching for home.

It couldn’t have been. People who weren’t born yet didn’t have ghosts. But she could have sworn that the man who Hana had run off was Sasuke. Sasuke dressed like a painting, Sasuke with his cockiness and ability to change roles along with his clothing.

‘Had to have been some kind of ancestor. Not just a relative, not with that resemblance. That man was Sasuke’s great-great grandfather or something like that.’

It hurt a lot more than she could have expected it to. It wasn’t really him. It wasn’t anyone that she knew.

But it was a reminder.

She made herself get up and fold her futon. Aiko opened the closet with a foot and tossed the mattress on the upper shelf.  She tossed the blanket on top, hesitated, and then took it down to properly fold it before putting it away a second time. She slid the closet door shut with a firm clack, closing the door on the sleepless night and unpleasant thoughts.

“It’s a new day,” she said, injecting some cheer into her voice. She stripped out of her sleeping clothes and put on her white hakui and red hakama. Her hair was last. It was getting long again. There were some odd short bits where pieces had gotten burnt off here and there, but the ragged ends were past her shoulders now.

‘Maybe I should cut it to that length, so it’s all even.’

Another day. Aiko bound her hair back into a low ponytail and nimbly wrapped washi string around it. By now she was well-practiced at the traditional hairstyles for miko.

‘If I had senbon, they would fit in there so well.’

Aiko pouted. She wasn’t even the type of kunoichi who used senbon. It just felt wrong to pass up a chance to pack away something sharp. It had never been her habit before, but she also hadn’t really styled her hair. She’d had it short as a genin, then in a simple braid as a chunin, and then she was skilled and obnoxious enough to wear it loose.

‘Mayumi would laugh at me if she knew I didn't have any weapons in my hair. What kind of bargain bin kunoichi passes up storage space?’

“I am the discount kunoichi,” Aiko mumbled to herself. “I’m leaning into it. So low quality.” She flung open the door and blinked into the cool morning air. Crickets and frogs were chirping and singing somewhere in the mist. The sun was halfway up already.

‘Come to think of being a disappointment for my role, I should shore up my miko skills and equipment before I get any little apprentices. I have a fan and a lantern, but I don’t know any kagura dances.  And I don’t have any of the other traditional accessories. Well.’ She snorted in amusement and stepped off the engawa onto the grass. ‘I have a bow now. But I could have a sword as well, as well as the rest. I should go to a bigger shrine and train.’

That would be something interesting to do with the day.  But first things had to come first. Aiko waved, smiled, and greeted the people that she saw out and about. People were already cutting grass, watering crops for the next harvest, and otherwise working outside. She passed through the biggest group of fields, carefully stepping on stones to dodge the mud on the raised walkway. She went up the mountainside, passed a house, and then went to the front door. She rapped on the wood frame with her knuckles. “Good morning,” Aiko called, deliberately loud.

She shucked her shoes as she waited. She knocked and called out again, even louder.

This time, she heard a thunk from somewhere in the house. About 10 seconds later, she heard the soft rumble of a door sliding open and the swish of bare feet on tatami.

Grandfather Kazuya beamed at her. He reached a shaky hand out to usher her in. Aiko smiled back and bowed her head as she stepped past. “Good morning,” she said again.

“Wonderful to see you.” There was a soft rasp of skin on fabric behind her, and then his shuffling footsteps started. Aiko led them into the kitchen. “Tanjiro-kun is outside,” Grandfather Kazuya informed her. She could hear the smile in his voice. “I don’t know what he will bring in for us this morning.”

“I love a surprise,” Aiko said blithely. “How is your back this morning?”

“Good, good,” he dismissed. “I got up easily.”

“I am happy to hear that,” Aiko said sincerely. The rice pot was where she’d left it yesterday. Aiko had to get on her toes to pull the thick cloth bag of rice down. “Is there water?” she asked.

“Oh, no. I will go and get some from the well.” He took a step toward the pail, which would be quite heavy when full.

‘Absolutely not while I’m here.’

“No, no,” Aiko brushed her hands on the front of her pants. “Could you measure out the rice, please? I’ll be right back.” She bustled out the door and grabbed the big water pail on the way to the back yard. Tanjiro popped his head up and grinned at her. He waved with a muddy hand. He was crouched like a frog over a patch of green. “Good morning,” she said cheerfully. “What’s that in your hand?”

“Sunny lettuce,” he bellowed with all the force a 7-year old could expel from their lungs. “And two tomatoes!”

“This late in the year? That’s wonderful,” Aiko praised. She started pulling on the rope to lift the bucket. There was a pleasant strain in her arms and upper back as the water fought her. “Come here and wash your hands.” She poured most of the bucket into the pail to go inside and then splashed the remainder over the vegetables and Tanjiro’s hands. “Thank you, your grandfather will be happy to see that.”

“I’m going to make salad,” he shouted. He shook his hands like a dog would shake off water.

Bemused, Aiko watched him sprint back to the house. “Alright then.” She dropped the bucket back into the well to let it refill and headed back inside at a more relaxed pace.

Grandfather Kazuya had set the rice on the workbench inside the pot. As she stepped into the kitchen, he dropped the measuring cup back into the basket with a thunk. She glanced to the hearth in the center of the room, judging how high the fire was.

“Just embers,” she murmured. She left the water and went to feed the fire so that it would be ready. “Tanjiro-kun, can you cut the lettuce for me?” She made eye contact and a gesture. “You can tear it, like this. To this size. How about it?”

He nodded. “Un.” His face screwed up in concentration. He barely seemed to notice his grandfather set down a bowl for the lettuce.

Aiko exchanged a smile with Grandfather Kazuya.

Tanjiro was the only other person in the house at the moment. His parents had gone off to the next town to meet relatives and to try to recruit a miko for her shrine. Tanjiro’s mother, Furi, was one of 6 siblings, and one of her sisters had been blessed with 5 daughters. 5 daughters was widely agreed to be a difficult number of daughters to feed.

‘I’d have to be able to feed them if they came to me.’

The idea of being responsible for someone else in that way made her feel a little sick. Aiko didn’t exactly have the resources of the Mizukage anymore. She focused on rinsing the rice, using her fingers to agitate the water until starch turned it white. She carefully drained it and set it aside to water the garden later. The second rinse water would be used for cleaning and to wash their faces at night. She filled the rice pot, checked the water level with her index finger, and then went to look for something else to fill out the meal.

She picked up the stored tsukemono to sniff at them. “Miso or rice bran pickles?” Aiko asked out loud.

“Let’s have the rice bran,” Grandfather Kazuya said amiably. As Tanjiro groaned, he nodded. “I’ll return in a moment.”

“Take your time,” Aiko called. She bit her lip and judged how long the rice would take to cook, given that the fire was a bit low. “Protein,” she mumbled to herself. “Eggs?” No, no, they did that yesterday. “Fish,” she decided. She glanced over at Tanjiro, who was shaking the last shreds of lettuce off of his hands. Before he could get any ideas about the knife and his precious tomatoes, she cleared her throat. “Could you go to the river and ask Kadoya-san for a big fish?”

Tanjiro lost all interest in vegetables. “Yes, priestess,” he chirped. “Now?”

“Yes, please,” she said absently. “Take the…” she trailed off as he crammed his feet into his shoes and ran off without the basket. “Okay, carry a live fish here in your hands. Whatever.”

Poor fish.

This was the third day in a row that she’d had breakfast with this family. It was nice, she thought later when they were sitting down together over the meal. It felt good to have something to do in a borrowed family unit. After breakfast, Grandfather Kazuya took Tanjiro further into the village center, where he and some other elders would watch the smallest children and supervise the other ones doing little tasks in between playing.

Aiko walked a more circuitous route back to the shrine, exchanging greetings and peering at the things that other women were bringing back from the mountainside. It was prime foraging time for burdock root and ginger, as well as plenty of other good things that would be good for pickling to eat or drying for medicine. She was still floating on her triumph of realizing she had a piece of useful plant knowledge that the locals didn’t– the foraging baskets were now coming back with kudzu to treat colds later in the year.

The intrusive thoughts came back as soon as she slid the door shut behind her. She fought it with busywork, using the morning’s rice water to wipe the entry floor.

‘Is that Uchiha going to come back? Do I know his name?’

She might. She had gone through genealogy materials with Sasuke years ago.

‘Maybe he’s the guy I drew a mustache on.’

No one was around to hear her snort.

Aiko surveyed her very clean flooring, hands on her hips. She glanced around the shrine for something else to do. Disappointingly, it was in perfect order.

“Okay,” she said, feeling a bit lost. She rallied. “I need to do something, something productive. I can…” Aiko trailed off as she remembered her train of thought that morning. “I can go and become a better Priestess,” she decided. “I should have had miko training. If I’m going to train a miko, I need to actually know what they’re supposed to learn.” She grimaced at the thought of making it all up from barely remembered rituals she’d seen years ago. That seemed profoundly awkward. It would inevitably become embarrassing.

“Fraud,” she said under her breath. “Where to? Where would there be a big shrine with senior miko who I can talk to…”

Oh, no.

She grimaced again.

Somewhere else. There had to be somewhere else. Aiko cast about her memory, trying to find a place where she knew she’d be able to solicit training that was near enough to reach in a day and was not right outside the Daimyo’s palace.

…Nothing came to mind. If she’d still had seals all over the continent she could have gone somewhere else and asked around. But she didn’t have that network.

“...It seems a bit sacrilegious to disguise myself in a shrine,” Aiko said unhappily.

It was, in a very literal sense. Aiko was hardly an expert but she knew it was prohibited to dye your hair color if you were a miko. It was supposed to be the beautiful, natural black shade, to lower your chances of adverse possession.

That meant that henge of black hair would help her fit in as an ideal miko. She felt only a little guilty as she applied it. She softened her face as well to make her look like she was in her early teens. A miko of Aiko’s actual age would be way too old to get training. She was basically at miko retirement age.

‘Oof. I do not like that thought. Bad thought.’

That age limit didn’t apply to Priestesses anyway. A priestess was the next level in religion, really.

She closed her eyes, concentrated on her few existent seals, and tried to puzzle out where in relation to them the Daimyo’s palace would be. Assuming it hadn’t moved… She came into a new spot at a brisk walk, acting like she had always been in the busy street. Someone dodged out of her way without looking at her.

Just like that, she was in the crowd. She cast her face about, looking for shrine gates. Valiantly, she ignored the ostentatious height of the palace. It didn’t take long to find the red gates and climb the stairs to the shrine halfway up the mountainside. She walked around the grounds, bowing politely to bald Priests and the few guests until she saw a female figure walking the other direction. They had on the same white hakui as Aiko, but her hakama pants were blue.

“Bingo,” she murmured. She followed. When no one was looking, she caught up. “Excuse me,” Aiko said, pitching her voice to be high and soft. When the other woman looked at her, Aiko flicked on her Rinnegan. “Do you have time to help me?” Aiko asked softly. A Priest passed nearby without giving them a glance. “I want to practice the fan dance.”

Trainee miko definitely did not set practice times, but the lightest touch of genjutsu Aiko could apply made this lady forget that. Aiko had her lead them to an empty tatami room and show Aiko the movements. It was honestly simple enough that Aiko had her demonstrate a few more, and then she shoved down the weird bubbling of guilt and asked for presents from the storeroom. She left the shrine with every traditional piece of miko equipment. It was a lot harder to blend into the crowd when her hands were so full but she managed to slip away to a dark corner and hirashin back to her little farm village.

Mayumi was waiting on the engawa when she got back.