Time slipped quietly by, and night gradually fell.
Looking at the house, neat and tidy once more, Hoshino wiped the sweat from his forehead.
That was the trouble with a house this big: cleaning it was exhausting.
It had taken him nearly three hours to clean it from inside to out.
Hoshino had only just sat down to rest.
"Hoshino, Captain, does this count as reporting in early?"
Temari hopped straight over the wall into the courtyard and ran over to Hoshino, teasing him.
"You picked quite a time to show up. I only just finished cleaning!"
Hoshino looked up at the girl and smiled.
"Hehe, who told you to form a new squad without even throwing a celebration? I brought a gift!"
As if performing a magic trick, Temari produced an oil-paper parcel from behind her back. A rich aroma instantly filled the courtyard.
It was camel milk cake, available only in limited quantities from the old shop on East Street.
Hoshino's eyes lit up, though he teased her, "Hopping over walls to deliver snacks? Just what I'd expect from the Kazekage's young lady."
"Quit talking!" Temari grabbed a piece of milk cake and stuffed it into his mouth. "I had to stand in line for half an hour to get that."
"Mmph..."
Hoshino pounded his chest, choking on the cake, while Temari laughed and pushed a bamboo water flask to his lips.
"Seriously! Are you really planning to take on the Night Sand Clan?"
Temari nudged the puppet parts Hoshino had just put away with her toe as she spoke.
"Lady Temari, let me correct you on one point. It's not just the Night Sand Clan. It's all the puppet-master families that have already rotted away."
With that, Hoshino tossed the last half-piece of milk cake into the air, and a magnetic pull guided it neatly into his mouth.
"But what about you? Didn't Lord Kazekage tell you to keep an eye on me?"
"He wouldn't dare!"
The Three-Star Fan on Temari's back snapped open. "If he dares make me a spy, I'll use this fan to blow his gold dust mine apart!"
Hoshino laughed. "Then forget it! If the gold dust mine is gone, the villagers will be the ones to suffer. Your dad might have been sick of mining for ages."
"Hey..."
Hearing him tease her dad like that, Temari puffed out her cheeks slightly and glared at Hoshino.
"All right, all right, I'll stop!" Hoshino raised both hands in surrender, then changed the subject.
"Remember last time? You said you'd teach me how to do routine maintenance on puppets, and ended up painting Kankuro's Crow puppet pink..."
"Shut up! That was an artistic makeover!"
Temari's fan snapped shut, and the tips of her ears turned a little red.
"It was better than some guy cheating with Magnet Release to clean his room."
As she spoke, she suddenly hooked her foot under the toolbox Hoshino had just put back in place and kicked it up.
Dozens of tools scattered like flowers strewn by a celestial maiden, only to be caught and held steady before they hit the ground. They floated in an array like a star chart, rotating above the two of them.
Hoshino and Temari sat shoulder to shoulder on the steps, gazing up at the scattered stars and... the tool version of a star chart.
Moonlight flowed over the girl's swaying golden ponytails. In a corner of the courtyard, an hourglass quietly turned over, and the night breeze swept the scent of the oasis's bellflower grass past the eaves.
"Then how did you know?"
"Did I even need to guess? You're so lazy!"
"But that was before. I've grown up now. I'm already nine."
"Little brat!"
"Aren't you? We're the same age! Come on, I'll take you somewhere!"
The night grew deeper.
Two rather small figures passed through the deserted streets and arrived at their destination.
Compared with the bustling village center, the scene here was especially run-down and desolate.
Discarded puppet parts were piled along both sides of the street, and the walls of the low earthen houses were covered in cracks.
Several ragged children huddled in a corner.
They wrapped themselves in worn blankets, their eyes showing a numbness and weariness beyond their years.
In the distance, an old man sorted through parts he had picked up during the day with trembling hands, muttering something to himself.
At the sight, Temari gradually slowed her steps, her chest so tight she could hardly breathe.
She had lived in the Kazekage's residence since childhood and had never encountered a world like this.
Her father was the Kazekage, and her family was at the heart of Sunagakure. Her life had consisted of nothing but training, missions, and the honor of her family.
She had never imagined that a group of people lived on the edge of the village like this, forgotten by everyone like discarded puppets.
The people here had no value to the village. They had no money to commission missions and could not even afford the lowest-ranking D-rank missions.
Without missions, naturally no ninja would come here.
As time passed, this place had become a forgotten corner.
Perhaps, in those people's eyes, giving these people a place to shelter was already an immense kindness.
Tears glimmered in Temari's eyes, and she raised a hand to wipe them away. An indescribable sense of guilt and anger welled up in her heart.
Behind Sunagakure's glossy exterior, there was a corner like this, deliberately ignored by everyone.
Temari was silent for a long time before asking softly, "Did you bring me here because you wanted me to see this?"
Hoshino nodded. "If we want to change the village, we first have to know what we're changing it for. I've already found my answer."
Temari took a deep breath and said firmly, "I understand! Hoshino, I'll change all of this with you."
Hoshino smiled and held out his hand. "Then let's start tonight."
Temari took his hand, and the two walked side by side toward that forgotten corner.
Before long.
Hoshino and Temari stopped in front of a low earthen house, its roof covered with several pieces of worn sandproof cloth.
Knock, knock, knock-
"It's me, Hoshino."
A rustling came from inside, and then the door slowly opened a crack.
A pale, gaunt face peered out, its eyes wary, with a trace of anticipation that was hard to discern.
He was a young man of about twenty-four or twenty-five, with several gruesome scars on his face and bandages wrapped around his arm. Blood could faintly be seen seeping through them.
"Lord Hoshino..." The young man's gaze lingered on Temari for a moment before he lowered his head again. "What brings you here?"
Hoshino said gently, "I came to find you. There's something I'd like to discuss with you."
The young man hesitated, but finally pulled the door open and gestured for them to enter.
The room was cramped, with hardly any decent furniture.
Some salvaged puppet parts were piled in a corner, and on the table sat a dim oil lamp and a dust-covered forehead protector.
Temari entered the room and only then noticed that the young man was missing an arm, his empty sleeve swinging freely.
"Hoshino, he's..."
Hoshino's gaze fell on the dust-covered forehead protector on the table. "His name is Arashi. He used to be one of Sunagakure's youngest Special Jōnin."
Temari's pupils contracted slightly, and her gaze returned to Arashi.
She had never heard the name before, and she could hardly connect the dispirited young man before her with a Special Jōnin.
Arashi said self-mockingly, "That's all in the past. Now I'm nothing but a cripple."
Hoshino shook his head. "You're not a cripple. You've just been forgotten by this village."