"All right, it looks as though everything's in order," said the checkpoint guard as he handed back Sakura's shinobi ID card. "Welcome to the capital, and do make sure you stay close to your group, all right?"
"Why's that?" Sakura asked curiously. "I was planning on going sightseeing on my own later."
The journey to the capital had taken barely more than three hours by stagecoach, so it was still bright outside, even though the winter solstice was drawing near and daylight hours were dwindling fast. If it hadn't been for the muddy roads and the patches of melting snow and ice, Sakura reckoned the trip wouldn't have taken much more than two hours.
"That's because there's a serial killer on the loose."
The checkpoint guards suddenly straightened and turned to face the uniformed woman in sunglasses striding towards them through the city gates. "Captain Senritsu!" they shouted, saluting her. "For Daimyō and country!"
The woman returned her underlings' salute and fixed her gaze on Sakura and her party, her lip curling in unmistakeable distaste as she took in the five shinobi. One ridiculously busty teen, one stupid-looking blond boy, one morbidly obese woman, one weakling, and one woman who had almost certainly already taken to day drinking…
"You must be here for that ridiculous beauty contest, correct?" Captain Senritsu sneered. "The delegation of kunoichi sent by the Hidden Leaf Village?"
"Hang on, just a minute!" Naruto shouted. "What was that about a serial killer, ya know?"
Anko hiccoughed and clapped a hand to her mouth as bile crept up her throat.
She had treated this assignment as a holiday, so barely an hour into the road trip, she was already thoroughly wasted on rice wine and sweets. Her face looked rather green; the carriage's rocking had done nothing to ease her queasiness.
"Don't go running around shouting it from the rooftops," Captain Senritsu said, clearly annoyed. "We'll have that deviant captured in no time. The only reason I told you is that the serial killer targets only young, pretty kunoichi."
"Aww, you're far too kind!" Anko giggled uproariously. "I'm still in my prime years, after— blegh…"
Guards and shinobi scrambled aside as Anko suddenly lurched forwards, projectile vomiting her breakfast along with the contents of at least two bottles of sweet wine. "Shorry about that," Anko groaned. "I get motion shicknesh really eashily…"
Yeah, right.
In any case, it seemed the authorities were keen to keep the serial killer matter under wraps. Several dignitaries and important guests from foreign nations had come to enjoy this year's special festival, so they were clearly intent on saving face in front of their guests from afar.
"Is there anything we can do to help?" asked Sakura, always ready to lend a helping hand.
"We've got the situation in hand, so all you need to do is stay out of trouble and make yourselves presentable for the perv— I mean, the higher-ups," Senritsu said, sniffing in disgust at the pool of sick at Anko's feet. "The last thing we need is a couple of loose cannons from the Hidden Leaf making a mess of things, thank you very much."
At her current level, Sakura was reasonably confident in her ability to gauge another party's strength. Even though they were adults, the guards were at best on a par with academy graduates, physically one-and-a-half to twice as strong as the average male. As for Senritsu, captain of the city guard, she was roughly Chūnin-level. And though Sakura had not yet seen any of them, she assumed the Daimyō's personal guard would be a step above, ranging from Tokubetsu Jōnin to fully fledged Jōnin.
"And speaking of which, let's make a few things perfectly clear. I know you Leaf shinobi have a habit of flouting your own village's rules, but this is the capital, understand?" Senritsu continued. "Absolutely no using Ninjutsu in the streets or running across rooftops, no destruction of private property, and otherwise no public displays of superhuman powers of any kind— or I'll see to it that you never set foot in the capital again. Understood?"
The capital was a storied city made by humans, for humans; unlike the Hidden Leaf Village where shinobi gathered, which was barely eighty years old. Even the Hokage would have to abide by the rules if she set foot within its walls— and though the daimyō and his personal forces did not have the power to physically stop high-tier ninja, they did possess the ultimate form of power: the kind that is green and that folds and that you can rub between your fingers.
That is, Kinton no Jutsu!
"We'll be keeping a close eye on you," Captain Senritsu barked at last, only letting Sakura and the others pass once she'd made certain they understood her meaning. "So don't you dare land me in hot water with my superiors!"
…
The capital could not have been more unlike the Hidden Leaf Village.
For one thing, it was far bigger, and for another, it was far less modern; packed dirt roads winding between extremely flammable wooden houses, conjuring sepia-tinted memories of old Tokyo photographs before the fire bombings, just as Sakura remembered seeing at her grandparents' house.
As Sakura's group drew nearer the city centre, where their hotel lay waiting, her thoughts wandered back to her school trip to Kyoto, Japan's ancient capital. Unlike the outer districts, the heart of the capital brimmed with graceful pagodas and shrines, elegant houses, parks lush with greenery despite the nip in the air, neatly paved lanes, and above it all the Daimyō's castle— the crowning glory, looming grandly in the distance.
"It looks as though they don't get much snow around here, eh?" Sakura remarked. "It's not so very much further south than the Hidden Leaf Village, though…"
Sakura pulled out the polaroid camera she'd bought especially for this trip, snapping a few pictures as they ambled along. Originally, she'd planned to use her limited supply of film on shots of her fellow contestants— for later use, of course— but she supposed her parents might appreciate seeing something rather more wholesome than a succession of scantily clad women.
"Oi, Sakura!" Naruto shouted, having clambered onto a pedestal where he was grinding quite inappropriately on a weathered stone statue, its facial features long eroded by time and elements. "Quick, take a picture!"
Snap!
Sakura shook the picture that her instant camera had just spat out to make it develop faster.
"Show me, show me!" said Naruto excitedly as he hopped down from the pedestal.
Gradually, an image bloomed on the blank square of paper: Naruto puckering up to the statue, the crowd around him shaking their heads in collective disgust, a distinctive bob of pink hair amongst the sea of heads, the Daimyō's castle rising grandly behind it all…
Hang on… pink hair?
"Shit," Sakura swore. "I recognise that face…"