Sen kicked open the courtyard gate and entered the cluttered little bungalow.
Tile dust covered the floor, mingling with the smells of formalin and mud.
"Great. These shoes are done for."
Sen kicked his blood- and fluid-stained cloth shoes into a corner by the door.
He changed into geta washed pale with age, giving his feet some welcome relief.
Lying on the hard wooden bed, he turned his attention to his trouser pocket.
Kotoamatsukami lay cold in the medicine box, giving off a chill.
"Once I'm out of the village, I'll find some wasteland and dig it out for a look."
Sen rolled over and pulled a tattered blanket over his stomach.
He slept so deeply that even the sparrows failed to wake him.
By the time he opened his eyes again, the light inside had faded toward dusk.
The rich, charred aroma of grilled meat drifted in from the village outside.
Sen rubbed his puffy face and slowly climbed out of bed.
"All right. Tonight, I'm getting my money's worth of the priciest snowflake beef."
He patted the wrinkles out of his clothes and shuffled outside in his geta.
As soon as he reached the street corner, Sen sensed something off about the atmosphere.
Several older women carrying wooden basins stopped dead at the sight of him.
"See him? That's the Senju brat who blew the base apart last night."
"Keep your voice down! I heard one kick from him nearly collapsed the village."
"There wasn't even a whole body left of Danzo. Terrifying."
The women held their basins in front of their chests, staring at him like a monster.
Sen rolled his eyes, pulled his collar up, and strode on.
But the farther he went, the more eyes turned toward him.
Ninja who usually looked down on him