By dusk on the third day, the argument at the Shopping Street's West Entrance was worse than yesterday.
Yesterday, they had shouted insults across the stalls. Today, someone struck first.
Kiyoshi left the school gates after class, his schoolbag strap digging into his shoulder, and entered the street through the West Entrance. The sinking sun laid shadows across half the street.
Shisui waited beneath the general store's eaves and tipped his chin at him. They walked side by side toward the middle of the street.
"Come along for part of the patrol after school," Shisui said. "Don't wander off, and keep quiet."
Kiyoshi nodded and kept pace.
"Your aunt's stall is at the West Entrance. She packed up early today," Shisui added. "See for yourself whether that's strange."
Kiyoshi still said nothing. He kept walking.
The stalls were half packed away. The tofu stand was empty, and the cloth seller had tied his bolts onto a carrying basket. A dozen or so villagers stood behind their stalls, working with their hands, their ears pricked. Three members of the Konoha Military Police Force approached from the other end of the street, their armor dusty, their forehead protectors pushed back half an inch, their boots treading over scattered vegetable leaves.
The one in the middle was Uchiha Ju. His cuffs were washed pale, his left hand stayed pressed against his waist, and his steps were heavier than those of the other two.
A white lantern hung beneath the eaves of a house on the corner. It was the third day, and it still had not been taken down.
Half the street separated the two sides. The insults were muted, not loud, pushed out one sentence at a time.
"Your scales aren't accurate, and you still have the nerve to sell here?"
"The