The Azai Clan's dining hall seemed too grand for the likes of Snowflake. Every pillar was elaborately carved with images of tapirs feeding, mating, and doing battle alongside their shinobi handlers. Tapestries of remarkable quality lined the walls, and these were more focused on the exploits of Ui Isas—here he was striking down enemy ninja by the dozen alongside six towering Pangolins, while there he stood atop a pile of bestial corpses in a phantasmagorical landscape that must have been some ignorant artist's impression of the Seventh Path. The table in the middle, capable of seating a dozen with ease, was also carved, though Snowflake could not see the details because, regrettably, there were people in the way.
Three men and two women stood in wait for her and Pandā. The High Priest, in flowing white robes, gave her a beatific smile. Azai Rindō, his brother and still the head of the clan, stood proudly to his left. To his right, Loremaster Inoue Rika was maintaining an open, welcoming expression so poorly even Snowflake could recognise the simmering hatred beneath the surface. Aida Rin could not manage even that, and in her eyes Snowflake could see the emptiness of a woman broken by her failure as leader of the scroll guardians and then again by the knowledge of her obsoleteness. According to the team's last-minute research, all three were staunch loyalists of Azai Shūsuke, though likely for different reasons.
The last figure was unfamiliar. A balding man with a few wisps of black hair stretched pitifully across his scalp, dressed in nondescript black, gave her a look of friendly curiosity.
"Welcome to our humble home," the High Priest said, still smiling. "A seat has been prepared for you at this table." He left a pause hanging in the air, as if for a ritual response, but Snowflake had not been briefed on any such.
"Thank you," she said simply. "It is an honour to be here."
Azai frowned a little, but the High Priest seemed completely unfazed.
"I don't believe we've met," said the man in black in a precise voice with a light accent Snowflake could not place. "My name is Arikada Hibiki."
Snowflake failed to suppress a flinch. It was certainly a coincidence. Arikada might be a common… no. Given Kei's terrible luck, this was almost certainly a close relative of the woman she had helped murder.
"It seems you've heard of me," Arikada said, voice rising in surprise. "Could it be that he…"
"No," Snowflake said, more sharply than she had intended. "Not at all."
"Hmm," Arikada said thoughtfully. "Well, never mind. I am a representative of the Sacred Spiritual Seekers of the Scaly Sage. We are an organisation devoted to uncovering the mysteries of the universe. I'm told you are a Mori
and a Nara, and I have ever so many—"
"Please, Hibiki," the High Priest cut in. "You'll have to forgive my friend, Lady Nara, but if we allow him to start talking about his theories, we will surely die of old age before he finishes, and more importantly, the food will get cold."
"Pleased to meet you," Snowflake said. "I am Nara Keiko, the Pangolin Summoner." Snowflake
hated it. Her first shinobi mission, a life-defining event, and it had to open with a denial of her existence. It was necessary—this was no time to try to explain to the Isanese that there were 1d5+1+X Pangolin Summoners, depending on availability of chakra transfusions and whether they actually wanted to summon anything—and it was logical, but still, it grated.
"And I'm Pandā," the little Pangolin added. "I know I wasn't exactly invited, but I was commanded to be here as an observer for these, uh, historic negotiations." Per his instructions, he omitted to mention that he had been commanded by Kei, rather than any Pangolin authority.
"Emissary." The High Priest inclined his head respectfully, followed by the others.
"Please accept this humble gift as a token of my gratitude," Snowflake continued, addressing the High Priest. "These are passion beetles, a spicy snack popular among the Pangolins." She presented him with a pouch full of the iridescent gold-green insects, gathered by Pandā in an emergency mission just in time for the dinner.
Unfortunately, Pandā's notes on which Seventh Path insects humans enjoyed dated back centuries, with his best source being a survivor of the Six Scourges who by sheer luck happened to live in Pandā's settlement. Also unfortunately, the retired veteran's memory for Ui's taste in snacks was limited, and could be summed up as "the little green ones". After some thought, Pandā had settled on passion beetles, so named for alleged aphrodisiac properties which he emphatically assured her were absent if they were eaten raw.
"An exotic cuisine from another world," the High Priest said, and the awe in his voice made Pandā perform one of those adorable little tail bounces. "I gratefully accept. I'm certain they will make a fine addition to our meal."
However, he did not take it, and instead just stood there, waiting for something.
After a few seconds, he gave a kind of shrugging motion Snowflake could not interpret.
"My apologies," he said. "Of course your sister-in-law would have been unable to teach you Isanese customs for dinner in another's home. When we offer food to a stranger, it is customary to first taste it ourselves. I will naturally do the same when the meal begins."
As it happened, Kei's devouring of the Academy library had taught her that this had once been standard practice in the Water Country as well. It had, however, ceased shortly after the beginning of the Village Era, actively discouraged by the Mizukage as a way of fostering trust among the clans. The books explained that this was another way in which Mist was superior to the other villages, whose savage shinobi continued to poison each other at every opportunity.
Snowflake had hoped the High Priest would simply keep them for later personal use. Kei's memories of eating insects under Kagome's tutelage during their missing-nin days were ones Snowflake would rather have not inherited. Nevertheless, she steeled herself, reached into the pouch, and warily brought forth a passion beetle.
One bite. Two. Three.
Agony. She had requested "spicy", not "tongue-meltingly bitter". She could hear the dying screams of her taste buds, followed by her insides roiling in protest. The Yabai Café would do whatever it took to get a summoning scroll if its proprietors knew it would bring
this within reach. It did not quite measure up to—
She attempted to keep the changing expressions off her face, but she was no Hazō, and was not optimistic.
"Perhaps we shall leave these snacks for dessert," the High Priest said smoothly. "It would do your gift a disservice to wolf it down without proper appreciation while we are at our hungriest."
Yes. A thousand times yes. A full meal's worth of time in which to figure out a way to avoid having any more. Perhaps if Snowflake achieved stellar success as a diplomat, she could find an excuse to leave early without sabotaging the mission.
She was doomed.
The High Priest waved a servant over to take the pouch, then beckoned the guests to their seats. Mercifully, he indicated the proper seat for Snowflake, seating himself last at the head of the table.
One servant brought what appeared to be a plate of grubs for Pandā, to his delight and Snowflake's surprise.
"Rindō is always on the lookout for creative ways to punish poor tapir care," the High Priest explained. "Gathering insects in the forest is hardly the worst those girls have had."
"How very humane," Snowflake agreed, guessing that small talk would be appropriate. "I understand that in Mist, those in the Hoshigaki Clan who mistreat a shark must learn the error of their ways by becoming one with it."
"Those kids are very lucky tapirs are herbivorous," Azai said approvingly.
"If you recall, I had some suggestions in that regard…" Arikada said.
"I think the particulars of your research are something best not discussed over dinner, my friend," the High Priest interrupted. "Lady Nara, these are sautéed boar tongues," he said, indicating the long grey strips of meat on their plates. "An Azai speciality." He picked one up with his chopsticks and ate it demonstratively.
The others took this as a signal for the meal to begin. The High Priest and Azai watched Snowflake try one of her tongues, their expressions curiously alert.
Snowflake found herself unable to care about the food, or indeed any food ever again, while her entire digestive tract was on fire. Nevertheless, eating was a way to delay the inevitable conversation in which she attempted to pit her persuasive skills against the man who had outmanoeuvred an entire village and the guests he had hand-picked with an unknown purpose in mind.
"Delicious," she said. The boar tongue had tasted of nothing. Her taste buds were dead. Or perhaps not, given she had not been dispelled by the damage. Either way, there went the only level on which she could have hoped to enjoy the meal to come.
"Huh," Azai said. The High Priest merely smiled enigmatically.
"I am given to understand," he said after a minute of eating, "that you have brought honour to Akio's name since you gained the scroll, Lady Nara. Perhaps you could regale us with the stories of what transpired after you left Isan?"
A softball, at least on face value. It was entirely possible that there was a trap waiting to be sprung, but on the other hand, here was an opportunity for Snowflake to build her reputation with some of Isan's decision-makers (assuming it had more than one) and extol the virtues of Leaf at the same time.
"It would be my pleasure," Snowflake lied. "As you are aware, my team travelled from Isan to the Village Hidden in the Leaves, where…"
She broke off as a stab of pain reminded her that her internal organs were still in the process of being immolated. Should she make her excuses and seek refuge in the bathroom until she felt a little better? Or would that be an unacceptable sign of weakness? No, surely she could endure a little—
The realisation struck too late. Snowflake was a shadow clone. Shadow clones did not endure.
She shot to her feet. "Excuse me. I suddenly find… myself… feeling unwell. If we could resche—"
-o-
On the other side of the village, Kei dropped her book. "Mari," she said in a choked voice, "we have a problem."
Mari instantly turned alert. "What happened? Was there an assassination attempt?"
"In a manner of speaking," Keiko said slowly. "To the public eye, I just perished in a failed attempt to poison the High Priest."
-o-
You have received 3 + 1 = 4 XP.
-o-
What do you do?
Voting ends on Saturday 13th of March, 1 p.m. New York time.
