Hashirama * Rōchōya

Tamamo-no-Mae entered the Hanakiriya with light steps. As she lifted the curtain, Camellias and the distinctive Sulfur scent of the Hot Spring Street wafted in.

The Tavern Keeper was tidying up the shelves inside, glanced at him but didn't look up and continued tidying up, "Who do we have here? Isn't this Lady Tamamo-no-Mae? What, have you run out of hair oil at Tamamoya's?"

"Look at you, does coming here necessarily mean buying hair oil?" Tamamo-no-Mae twirled her Gunbai in her hand, then casually sat down on a chair nearby, slowly crossing one leg over the other. "I was just passing by and thought I'd drop in to see you. How's business lately?"

"Just make do." The Tavern Keeper closed the lid of the face powder, turned and walked towards her, casually pouring a cup of weak tea and pushing it in front of her. "Things are chaotic outside these days. There are fewer people genuinely buying things, but more people asking all sorts of questions. Their faces clearly show their true intentions, yet they pretend they're here to buy hairpins. It's exhausting to watch."

"It's not easy for anyone." Tamamo-no-Mae picked up her teacup, took a sip, and looked around. "The shop looks brighter and more vibrant than when I last came."

"I knew you liked to say nice things."

The Tavern Keeper sat down opposite her, fanning herself with a round Gunbai. Suddenly, as if remembering something amusing, she leaned forward slightly. "Speaking of which, a while ago a customer came in for a chat, and it cracked me up. He said he'd been seeing a psychologist for three years, but it hadn't helped at all. I asked him, 'Then why don't you change doctors?' Guess what he said?"

"How so?" Tamamo-no-Mae asked back, very flatteringly.

"He said he was afraid of hurting the doctor's feelings," the Tavern Keeper said, suppressing a laugh. "I asked him, 'So what exactly do you want?' He said very seriously, 'I don't seem like a doctor, I'm more like a conman. I just want to find someone who can convince me they're right.'"

"Pfft." Tamamo-no-Mae covered her mouth with her fan. "This person isn't sick, he's just obviously bored."

"Absolutely!" The Tavern Keeper laughed even more heartily. "But these days, having plenty of free time isn't a bad thing. At least you're not kept awake at night by all the fighting and killing outside."

Tamamo-no-Mae nodded, picked up her teacup, and sighed as if recalling something unpleasant. "Now that you mention it, I really envy him. Unlike me, I woke up this morning to something that really upset me. Some people treat us so well, providing us with food, clothing, and shelter, and they turn around and start gossiping about my future sister-in-law. They say the most awful things I've ever heard."

She spoke softly, but the Gunbai on the edge of her fan swayed coldly at the end of her sentence.

"Your betrothed sister-in-law?" The Tavern Keeper's eyes widened. "Tamaro is already taken?"

Tamamo-no-Mae gave a meaningful smile, "Not yet, but it'll be soon."

"What girl could stand your brother's face?"

"She's a girl from a Ninja family, from the Land of Fire," Tamamo-no-Mae shifted her posture and raised her fan. "She's still a child. I guess she chose my brother because she feels good about having someone protect her."

The Tavern Keeper frowned. "The Land of Fire? A child? You're not talking about a blonde, blue-eyed girl who's about fourteen or fifteen years old, are you?"

Tamamo-no-Mae looked at her in surprise. "You're absolutely right, how did you know?"

The Tavern Keeper slapped her thigh. "A little girl named Tsuchigumo Makoto just came by today! Oh, so you're talking about her? That child is so thin and small, and she even brought a baby with her."

"A child?" Tamamo-no-Mae was taken aback, her fan stopping in mid-air.

"Yes, she's a foundling, covered in mud. I combed her hair and changed her clothes. She's really pretty, just a little pale. There was a red-haired boy and Luotai with her. That dark-skinned guy seems to have someone he likes; he even picked out a comb from me today."

Tamamo-no-Mae slowly closed her fan, her expression shifting from the relaxed demeanor of casual conversation to a thoughtful one, and she softly uttered an "Oh."

The Tavern Keeper, assuming she was jealous, laughed and said, "Your reaction suggests you're wondering why she didn't come to tell you, but instead ran around with other people?"

"Yes, how could this be?" Tamamo-no-Mae smiled noncommittally, stood up, and placed the tea money under her cup. "Thank you for your trouble. It's good that she's here; it's better than her being gossiped about in the clan. I'll treat you to tea another day."

"Don't rush, tell me a few more words. What's the background of that child?" The Tavern Keeper wanted to keep her to hear more, Tamamo-no-Mae had already lifted the curtain.

"I'll tell you next time." She turned and smiled, her Gunbai casting a long, thin shadow in the setting sun. "Today I also have to pick up my troublesome sister-in-law."

The Tavern Keeper scoffed, "None of them explained things clearly to me, really!"

Meanwhile, Izuna and his group had already left the County Magistrate’s Residence and were walking down the mountain along a path lined with Camellias.

As noon approached, the surrounding temperature gradually warmed up, the noise of the Hot Spring Street faded away, and the sound of cicadas chirping along the mountain road made it seem quiet.

Izuna was chattering away in front, telling Madara what they were going to do later, Tobirama took out the documents he had just received from Daikokuten and started reading.

Hashirama walked at the back, seemingly lost in thought.

He was still replaying the two conversations from earlier that day in his mind.

First, there was the interaction between Izuna and Jōtarō at the Inn, and then there was the exchange between the Diplomat and Daikokuten outside the Tea Room just now. The more he recalled it, the more impressed he became.

Uchiha Izuna, who usually gets along well with children and always plans where to go for fun whenever he has free time, always manages to say the right thing in that situation.

Those words didn't sound like quick-witted remarks put together on the spot; rather, they seemed to stem from a deep-seated sense of propriety.

He was unhurried, distant yet polite, leaving the procedures to the Land of Hot Water to follow and leaving the exit strategy to the Land of Whirlpools to choose for themselves.

This way, the other party won't feel pressured, and Konoha won't appear to be meddling.

Hashirama couldn't help but wonder what he would do if he were in that situation.

He would probably pat Jotaro on the shoulder and say, "Don't worry, leave this to me," as soon as Jōtarō mentioned that the fishermen were trapped in the harbor and the trade routes were cut off.

He will definitely arrange everything perfectly for the Land of Hot Water, using the name of the Hokage and the power of Hashirama Senju to make those people lay down their weapons out of respect for him.

He can do it, and he is confident he can do it.

In fact, he almost spoke up several times in the Tea Room.

If Madara hadn't held his wrist down and forced him to swallow the words that were already on the tip of his tongue with a look, he probably would have already blurted out, "Konoha can help you set up Defensive Line."

Looking back now, if he had actually said that, he would have harmed them instead.

He suddenly remembered what Izuna had said to Quhai when they were arguing before.

Isn't this... interference in a country's internal affairs?

Yes, if he had actually said it back then, how would he be any different from people like Quhai?

Even he's tired of being helped, so what about everyone else?

If Konoha were to show any desire to dominate the affairs of a nation, then today's friends might become tomorrow's enemies.

But who could possibly resist?

Hashirama walked along the mountain path, his gaze swept past the backs of Madara and Izuna standing side by side ahead.

Madara put a hand on Izuna's shoulder, while Izuna tilted his head back, pointing at a chirping cicada in the tree and laughing.

Tobirama walked a few steps ahead of him, still clutching the document he had just received from Daikokuten, his expression focused. When he heard Izuna complain that he wasn't paying attention, he retorted sharply.

These are all people from Konoha.

People who have come together because of him.

He couldn't help but think of Konoha's current state.

In just over six months, the various ethnic groups have changed dramatically from their previous hostile and indifferent appearance. Now they can discuss matters at the same table, go on missions together, and sit around the campfire joking around.

He knew what a huge step forward this was. Even though the hatred had not yet dissipated, everyone shared a common belief and was slowly, tentatively, cooperating with others to move forward for the sake of that belief.

How could he not be proud of this? The Shinobi Village he built single-handedly grew from a wasteland into a Commercial Street, school, hospital, and Amusement Park.

People of insight gathered together to plan and develop the future of Konoha.

He longed to grab anyone who was willing to listen and tell them how wonderful the people of Konoha were, how Konoha allowed children to study peacefully instead of going to the battlefield to die, Konoha how delighted he was by this place.

But it is precisely this pride that makes him always want to "help" others.

Hyuga Clan, his first thought was to force everyone to sit down, talk things out, and clear things up.

Land of Whirlpools, he felt that Konoha could not stand idly by.

The Land of Hot Water was in trouble, and he felt that the Hokage should intervene.

He had too much faith in his own abilities and too much faith in his intuition that "I am doing good."

From childhood to adulthood, whenever he stood up, the problem would be solved, and others would be grateful to him.

Tobirama always covered for him, and the clan was united because of his strength.

He thought that "helping" was the least hesitant thing in the world.

But now he suddenly realizes that helping others doesn't mean they actually want your help.

This is a simple truth that shouldn't be something a thirty-year-old is only now realizing.

He recalled his speechless and embarrassed expression in the Tea Room on the day Quhai, and the unease he felt Wakako subtly hinted at their secrets.

Recalling the unspoken weariness in Madara's eyes when his revenge failed and he couldn't bring himself to kill him.

He rubbed his cheeks vigorously and sighed inwardly.

It turns out that he was an arrogant person from beginning to end.

However, this arrogance was always disguised as a kind heart, and it looked too much like gentleness, even he himself was deceived.

"Hashirama- nii?" Izuna stopped walking at some point and turned to look at him. "Why are you walking so slowly? Are you feeling unwell?"

Hashirama looked up, a smile on his face, "No, it's just that the mountain breeze is cool, and it makes me get lost in thought."

Izuna glanced at him sideways, then pointed ahead without asking any further questions, "We're almost there. We can see the Torii ahead."

Hashirama followed his finger and saw, sure enough, the vermilion torii Torii stood at the end of the stone steps, its red color shining brightly in the midday sun.

He smiled, then started walking and chased after him.

This needs to be changed from now on.

The water Blackened Teeth Ditch, was as thick as ink soaked in the night. Rotten vegetable leaves, tattered rags, and a few pieces of unrecognizable waste floated on the surface. The fishy stench mixed with the perfume scent wafting from the nearby Pleasure Quarters, making one's stomach tighten even in broad daylight.

The woman had been walking in the water for a long time.

Her skirt, soaked with black water, clung heavily to her calves. She stepped on something—perhaps a shard of pottery, or maybe a fishbone—that cut her painfully, but she didn't stop.

She bent over, groping around underwater with her hands, occasionally brushing aside floating debris, then pressing her face close to the surface to try and discern whether the dark, buoyant shadows were what she was looking for.

She made very soft, urgent sounds, like a child's name, or perhaps just muffled sobs, broken and intermittent by the sound of water and her suppressed crying.

She was the lowest-ranking Courtesan in the Pleasure Quarter, and her baby, born just last night, had barely opened its eyes before the Tavern Keeper took it away.

She dared not cry, dared not chase after the child, and dared not even ask where the child would be sent.

But as soon as it was light, she ran out like a madwoman, to the place on the street where no living thing could possibly survive.

What if?

What if they just left the child here? What if the child is still alive? What if she can still get him back?

Even if there's only the slightest possibility, she can't just let it go.

But no.

She touched the rotten bamboo basket, the swollen straw mat, and a few sticky pieces of wood, but there was no trace of the child.

The water was empty; not even the faintest cry could be heard.

She slowly straightened up, black water dripping from her sleeves and hair.

She looked up, the sunlight so bright she could barely open her eyes. It was quiet all around; there wasn't a sound.

She stood there blankly for a long time, then climbed out of the water and onto the shore, her soaked clothes leaving long trails of water on the ground.

She hastily wrung out her water-soaked skirt and walked dejectedly in the direction she had come from.

Luotai walked at the front, his steps so fast it seemed like he was chasing something, but he still slowed his pace, taking one step at a time.

Enma and Zhen followed behind him, one holding the child, the other looking around.

The three of them walked through the alley, around piles of waste and several overturned bamboo baskets, and went deeper into the Pleasure Quarter.

They came in by climbing over the wall, and now they're taking the back path.

"Why can't we wait until night?" Zhen asked in a low voice.

"It'll be too late if we wait until tonight." Luotai didn't turn around; his voice was muffled. "The Tavern Keeper doesn't even know about Masato's downfall, which means it hasn't reached Rōchōya yet. We still have a chance. If we don't go now, that woman might already be gone."

"Get her away?" Enma frowned. "Didn't she just give birth? She's in that state, where can she go?"

As Luotai walked, he said, "You don't understand places like this. In Pleasure Quarter, as long as you can afford it, you can buy a woman for one night. Who knows what might happen in one night?"

"Not everyone can climb to the position of courtesan just by having a pretty face. Most people, if they're lucky, manage to earn enough money to buy their freedom. If they're unlucky, they get sick or disabled and are discarded like trash."

"Rōchōya is more strictly guarded than other places."

"As the saying goes, the stricter the rules, the more chaotic things become. The madam only cares about making money, not about human lives. The Courtesan trample on each other, and the customers bully each other. Whoever has the least support suffers the most."

"People who get pregnant until December and then give birth to the child are seen as breaking the rules. No one will protect someone who breaks the rules."

"If my mother hadn't been relatively healthy at the time, and if no one had specifically asked for my name, she wouldn't have been able to raise me."

"But that's not what she wanted," Zhen said softly.

"Nobody cares whether you want to or not," Luotai said. "They only care about the results. She gave birth and her body hasn't fully recovered, so she can't entertain guests. Rōchōya doesn't support idle people."

"Usually at times like this, the stewards in the house will send the person to a lower-class place. When news of Masato's death arrives, these people, feeling guilty, will first try to silence her. We need to find her before they take her away."

Enma was silent for a moment, then asked, "So where are we going now?"

"Behind Rōchōya is a row of small rooms, specifically for keeping Courtesan who can't entertain customers, but we'll have to take a tricky approach."

They entered through a side door in the back kitchen, walked through a desolate courtyard, bypassed the patrolling thugs, and arrived at a dusty street.

Luotai turned to Zhen: "There's a section of the road ahead where we have to climb a wall. With the child in your arms, can you keep up?"

Zhen raised an eyebrow. "Don't underestimate Ninjas."