Ōnoki Goes Sightseeing

After wandering around for a while, Ōnoki decided to head back.

The eastern part of the city is bustling, with shops lined up one after another, selling all sorts of things.

Dumplings, fabric, rice and flour, ornaments, and some other novelties he couldn't name.

Despite the excitement, he didn't have much money in his pocket, and who knew what might happen later? He had to save it.

However, he couldn't resist going inside the Blacksmith Shop in the Land of Fire.

The shopkeeper eagerly handed him a Short Sword to try his hand at, which he took, weighed in his hand, asked the price, and then silently put back.

Never mind.

He found a ramen stall on the street corner and ordered a deluxe bowl of ramen.

A thick layer of char siu was laid out, and the dried bamboo shoots and soft-boiled eggs were neatly arranged. Seaweed was stuck on the rim of the bowl, slightly softened by the hot soup.

Seeing him enjoying his meal so much, the young business owner was quite pleased and even shared his grand ambitions with him.

He said he wanted his ramen to be recognized by everyone.

With his mouth full, Ōnoki couldn't speak, so he could only silently give him a thumbs up.

He went home after finishing his meal.

Lanterns hung at the entrance of the Post Station, and it was quiet inside.

When he went in, the shopkeeper was sitting behind the counter flipping through the account books, the abacus beads clicking loudly.

Hearing footsteps, the shopkeeper looked up, glanced at him, and then continued calculating the accounts.

Ōnoki walked over, reached into his pocket, took out the Netsuke, and placed it on the counter.

"Shopkeeper, I found this in the east of the city," he said. "Near that teahouse, on the road towards Pleasure Quarter. Could you please keep an eye on it and return it to anyone who comes looking for it?"

The shopkeeper glanced down at the Netsuke on the counter. The Black Peach Wood bird tilted its head, its ruby eyes flashing in the lantern light.

The shopkeeper, who had previously ignored him, did not immediately take away the Netsuke, but instead raised his head and looked at Ōnoki.

Upon discovering he was a child, he smiled and said, "Since you found him in the east of the city, then keep him."

Ōnoki paused for a moment.

Is there... any particular reason for this?

The shopkeeper didn't explain; he simply said, "Since it's in your hands, it means this thing is meant for you. Take it."

Ōnoki looked down at the Netsuke.

The bird tilted its head and looked at him with its deep red eyes.

Is there a connection with it?

He looked at his hands.

The hands were small, with short, thick knuckles, and calluses on them. These hands had received Kunai, formed hand seals, and shattered stones.

Now, holding a bird Netsuke carved from Black Peach Wood, they don't seem like things that should be together at all.

Such an exquisite and beautiful object, yet someone with his appearance would be ridiculed if he were to bring it out.

He hesitated for a moment, wanting to say that he was not worthy. But the shopkeeper had already lowered his head, pulled the abacus back in front of him, and started clicking away.

There was nothing he could do. Ōnoki clenched the Netsuke in his hand, turned around, and went upstairs.

He walked to the room belonging to the guards, opened the door, and went inside.

A thin quilt was laid on the tatami mat, and a stack of luggage rolls was placed in the corner.

He found his luggage, stuffed the Netsuke into the innermost compartment of the baggage roll, and wrapped it together with his change of clothes.

The Black Peach Wood Crow was wrapped in cloth, its ruby eyes hidden in layers of dark colors.

Then he retied the luggage roll and pushed it into the corner.

The next few days were as uneventful as plain water.

When it was his turn to be on duty, Ōnoki would act as a guard alongside the others.

The delegation from the Land of Earth wasn't particularly grand, but it still maintained all the proper decorum expected of them.

While Lord Ishimi was inside the house, chatting endlessly with officials from the Land of Fire about tariffs and pricing grains and minerals, he remained hidden in a corner, crouching low.

A breeze swept through the corridor, causing the shadows of the pine trees in the courtyard to sway gently. Occasionally, a maid would pass by carrying tea and snacks, her small, quick steps making a soft rustling sound on the wooden floor.

When it was his turn to rest, he would go out.

He'd been to that ramen stall in the east of the city more than once. The first time was by chance, but afterwards he made a point of going there on purpose.

The stall was parked on the side of the road, with two long benches and a crooked wooden table next to it.

The pot of noodles was steaming, and the white mist made the young owner's face appear and disappear intermittently.

"Hey, young man, you're here again!"

The boss smiled when he saw him. He had thin arms and legs and still looked like a teenager. His apron was covered with hard clumps of dried noodle soup, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing a section of his forearm that was red from being scalded by the steam.

Ōnoki sat down on the bench and ordered a bowl of deluxe ramen.

The owner responded and quickly got to work, scooping out noodles, ladles soup, and adding toppings.

The char siu was sliced into thick pieces on the cutting board, the dried bamboo shoots were taken out of the earthenware pot, and the soft-boiled egg was cut in half, the yolk trembling and glistening.

"Young man, where are you from?" the owner asked as he added ingredients to the bowl.

"North," Ōnoki said.

"The north is great, it's cool there." The owner brought the bowl over and placed it in front of him. "Our Land of Fire gets unbearably hot in the summer. After cooking noodles all day, you feel like you're melting."

Ōnoki didn't reply, and lowered his head to eat his noodles. The char siu was stewed until tender, and the fat melted on his tongue.

The broth was rich, the flavors of bones and soy sauce blended together, a savory and slightly sweet taste. He buried his face in the steam rising from the bowl, taking one sip after another.

The boss didn't mind that he was quiet. He wiped his hands with his apron, leaned against the pot, and watched the people coming and going on the street. Suddenly, he spoke.

"Young man, let me tell you, my dream is for everyone to recognize the value of this bowl of ramen."

Ōnoki raised his head, his mouth full, unable to speak.

The boss's gaze fell into the distance, and sunlight filtered through the edge of the awning, cutting a bright dividing line across his face.

"It's not the kind of 'oh, it's pretty good' kind of approval," he said. "It's the kind of approval where, after eating it once, you can't forget it no matter where you go, and you'd go out of your way to come back for another bowl."

After he finished speaking, he paused, scratched the back of his head, and smiled a little embarrassedly.

"Although it's still a long way off."

With his mouth full, Ōnoki couldn't speak, so he could only silently give him a thumbs up again.

The boss saw it and his smile widened even more. His smile, like the glistening, hot fat of the char siu, was irresistible.

He quickly forgot about the matter of the Netsuke. The luggage was stuffed in the corner, and as the Tenten passed, the crow was buried under layers of cloth and was never dug up again.

Seven days later.

The Envoy from the Land of Earth, Ishimi, returned from outside and summoned everyone to the main hall of the Post Station.

Ishimi stood in the center of the hall, still with that same smiling expression. He glanced around, his gaze sweeping across the faces of the Samurai before settling on the Ninjas.

Then he said, "The Daimyo of the Land of Fire will be traveling with us to Konoha, along with his family."

So everyone, be alert! Stand properly, walk properly, and speak and act with discretion. We can't let others look down on our Land of Earth."

The Samurai responded in unison, their voices echoing and shaking the hall. The Ninjas also bowed their heads in obedience.

Ōnoki stood in the line, lowered his head, and looked down.

Finally, it was time to head to his destination.

I wonder what kind of place Konoha is.