The woods were colder than the village at night. Wind skimmed the ground, blowing out of the woods from the creek bank.
Kiyoshi crouched behind a tree, downwind. Not a trace of his movements could reach the creek.
He had followed the whole way. Not helped. Followed. This was as far as he would go.
The creek bank lay nearby, the sound of water beneath the chirping insects.
A short figure carrying a huge scroll passed through the shadows of the trees and stopped beside the creek. The scroll hit the ground and unrolled. The figure crouched and opened the first page.
It was too far away to make out the words. Its size was clear enough, though. The scroll was longer than Naruto was tall, and spread out, it covered half the bank.
The night wind carried snatches of turning pages. Rustle, rustle. He turned them slowly, working through one word at a time.
The scroll had been stolen. That was done.
Kiyoshi swallowed the breath he had drawn to intervene.
According to the script, someone was due to enter next. He drew farther into the shadows and waited.
There were few insects out on a March night, making the water sound louder. He slowed his breathing to match the creek's rhythm. He had chosen a new spot to crouch, a hollow behind a tree root, his knees pressed into soft earth and an escape route left open on his right. Cold crept up from his ankles. He did not move.
He had come neither to help nor to watch a show. He wanted to see for himself what had been off about that street corner last night.
Footsteps came from the other end of the woods, heavy and hurried, with no attempt at concealment.
Iruka rushed onto the