Interlude: Field Research, Part 3
Mercifully, both Snowflake and Akane survived the Yabai Café daily special. Snowflake would have loved to put this down to her growing fortitude, but more realistically, it was the lack of side dish—or rather, their decision that the side dish was no longer fit for purpose after Snowflake nailed it with one of her concealed kunai during its escape attempt. Better yet, Akane had complimented her on her technique, noting that being able to show off one's proficiency with edged weapons in a natural way was a valuable ninja dating skill. Based on Kei's first date with Tenten, this seemed entirely accurate.
"What next?" Snowflake asked. "I assume the obvious next item on the agenda after lunch at the Yabai Café is a visit to the Yamanaka to have all memories of the event scrubbed from one's memory, even if precious childhood memories go with them?"
Akane shook her head. "Good guess, but your typical ninja doesn't have the kind of relationship with the Yamanaka where they can volunteer for experimental psychic ninjutsu. No, we're going to have to walk it off."
"As a world expert on memory storage and transferral, I can tell that you that memory does not work like that."
"Oh, I was being literal," Akane said. "Around this time of day during our dates, Hazō starts getting
ideas, so I take him somewhere like Senju Memorial Park and we go for a walk. I get to admire the scenery while he's oblivious to anything going on around him, and it keeps him well away from both Gaku and sealing paper until either he loses interest or we can get him to Kei, Mari and/or Kagome for a sanity check."
Snowflake duly wrote this down.
"While I also pride myself on my ability to generate ideas," Snowflake said, "any activity involving being oblivious to my surroundings is not on the books for me, given what a single stubbed toe can do to a shadow clone. What does the slowly-shrinking pool of shinobi who are not dating Hazō do at this point in a date?"
"Typically," Akane said, "you'd want to share something you're interested in with the other person, or vice versa. If there's something you both enjoy, that's ideal for an early date. For example, we both enjoy board games."
"True," Snowflake acknowledged. "But, as with the Yamanaka, presumably a typical shinobi will not be able to head back to the Nara or Gōketsu compounds to access our board game collections. Are we, then, to purchase a board game for the specific purpose of this date?"
Akane's eyes glinted with pride. "The Village Hidden in the Leaves is well ahead of you."
-o-
Dr Liminal, maverick genius of the Hidden Pitfall sealcrafting community, crept through the temple of the ancient Fang civilisation, one hand ever over her pouch of pillaged seals while the other groped ahead, seeking out traps. On the other side of the chamber, that loathsome plagiarist Prof. Petunia was engaged in her own search. Any seal caches they found together would be split equally—that was the agreement—but as soon as Liminal's would-be rival finally lost her nerve and fled, the remaining treasures would be all hers.
It had better be soon, Liminal reflected. Despite her scholastic incompetence, her rival was currently in the lead by three seals, and that meant the bold explorer was going to have to push her luck just a little further than even she was comfortable with.
"One more chamber, my esteemed colleague?"
"Well," Petunia muttered, staring into the ominous darkness of the passageway ahead, "I suppose one more might be all right, my dear assistant."
Perhaps Liminal would push her into the next spike trap herself.
"I can't believe you didn't know about this place," Akane told Snowflake as an obliging waiter carefully placed two cups of green tea on the table between them (this time, indoors, because the Black Kitten Board Game Café wasn't insane). "Ami said it was a KEI and Nara Kei Fan Club joint venture."
"Kei makes an active effort to know as little about the Fan Club's activities as possible," Snowflake explained, "with the exception of release dates for the latest issue of
Dauntless. I merely do not have the time, although I admit I have been more favourably inclined towards them since they agreed to stop using a snowflake as their symbol. I cannot wait for Kei to learn what they have chosen as a replacement." She nodded happily towards the black kitten on the sign outside.
"Still, a café where one may play board games surrounded by strangers? Why would anyone choose such a thing over the joy of amassing a collection to enjoy in the privacy of one's own home?"
"Oh," Akane said. "That would actually be our fault. The Gōketsu's, I mean."
"How so?"
"Well, you know how we host regular board game nights attended by various clan heads, summoners, and other famous figures of the shinobi world?"
"Of course," Snowflake said. "I receive an evening off every time."
"Turns out that when lots of famous people keep doing a thing," Akane said, "that thing becomes fashionable. A lot of board games are being marketed towards clan ninja and wealthy civilians, and that means higher-quality components and rising prices… and now a whole lot of people can't afford to buy board games the way they used to. To be honest, I feel awful about it, since it means clanless kids now can't get into gaming the way I did."
"Hence the café," Snowflake concluded, "which allows the deserving poor of Leaf to imitate the lives of their betters at an affordable price, temporarily salving the pain of having their hobby taken from them by those selfsame betters."
They pushed into another chamber. This one had one measly seal, which would remain unclaimed until more were found or one of them snatched it on her way out.
"I said I feel awful about it," Akane said. "But we can't reverse the social trend now. I don't think stopping the gaming nights now would change the way people think about them. Also, a dating tip: try to avoid saying things that make people feel worse, even if you think they deserve it. If you disapprove of them that badly, just don't invite them to another date."
Snowflake duly wrote this down.
It was a useful reminder, she reflected. It was easy to forget, in the safety and comfort of the clan compound, that she was far from the only person whose entire existence was shaped by the interests of those more powerful than her. The Gōketsu sought to uplift the civilian population relative to the ninja. The Nara sought to keep those in power from destroying civilisation in the process of protecting it. Leaf as a whole, on its better days, sought to promote peace and stability in the face of a dangerous world. But it was not Hazō or Shikamaru or the Hokage that experienced the direct consequences of those efforts. The people who did, by and large, had no voice in the decision-making process, or even any awareness of it. By their values, Snowflake was privileged beyond words to have a direct line to the person who shaped every detail of her life, and to have that person take her actual preferences and needs into consideration.
However, Akane was correct in that making her feel awful was not the objective of the exercise.
"Be that as it may," Snowflake smoothly changed the subject, "I am surprised that you would be willing to challenge me one-on-one in a board game. You have wisely avoided doing so at the gaming nights."
Akane gave her a wry smile. "Wisely? Because of the dreaded Mori genius?"
Snowflake nodded. "I
am a strictly superior model to Kei, given the inapplicability of the Frozen Skein during the short turn times of a typical board game, and the need for creativity in devising plans. In addition, most of my gaming experience is with Kei herself, as well as the finest mind of the Nara and therefore arguably of Leaf."
"Did you know," Akane replied, "that I'm second in the triad gaming championship, with Ino in the lead and Hazō third?"
"
Really?"
Akane sighed. "Another dating tip, Snowflake: try to avoid insulting people's intelligence. It's unlikely to go down well."
Snowflake duly wrote this down.
"Ino isn't a master strategist," Akane explained, "but she's very good at guessing what people are thinking, and of course she dominates social games. As for Hazō… I've known Hazō for a long time now. For example, I know that once he comes up with what he thinks is a really brilliant plan, he gives a tiny smile like
this, and then I know it's going to be a little while before he decides to review it, so I should switch up my own plan so his no longer fits, and try to go for a quick victory. It's a big weakness he hasn't caught onto yet."
"This is valuable intel," Snowflake said. "Shikamaru and the rest of the Snowflakesphere will be most appreciative."
"Oh." Akane squirmed a little in her seat. "Could I maybe bribe you not to pass that on? Hazō would be so annoyed if he knew."
"That would be metaphysically impossible," Snowflake reminded her.
"Could I bribe you
and Kei not to pass it on?"
"What could you possibly offer the Nara consort that she cannot purchase herself or have a minion purchase for her?" Snowflake asked sceptically.
Akane took a few seconds to think, during which time Dr Liminal and Prof. Petunia discovered an enormous stash and split it in half with utmost reluctance.
"I am given to understand," Akane said slowly, "that the sequel to the bestselling
Enslaved by the Pirate King is coming out on Thursday, with a limited number of signed copies available."
"What?!" Snowflake demanded, shooting up from her seat. "Surely you do not mean to imply that either Kei or I would ever consume such indecent literature? Why, the very
idea—"
Akane held up her hands. "I wouldn't dream of it. I'm just saying… If she happened to want a copy of her own for, say, market research purposes, and didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea by seeing her buy it herself…"
"Yes," Snowflake said after a moment to calm down, "yes, perhaps there may be something to your suggestion. As a senior Nara, it would behoove Kei to stay abreast of the general public's interests in regard to popular fiction. If you were to provide her with the volume in question—
discreetly—I believe she might give your request serious consideration. Signed copy if you can, please."
"Sure thing," Akane said. "Also, I'm withdrawing from the temple, and claiming the unassigned seals."
"More fool you," Snowflake said gleefully. "If I have calculated the remaining cards in the temple deck correctly, which I have, then your paltry lead is about to evaporate as I draw…
"Ravenous chakra gerbils?! But there was only one left in the entire deck!"
Dr Liminal ran for her life, hard-earned seals spilling out of her pouch as the characteristic "tekeli-li" of the ravenous chakra gerbil flooded the shadows behind her.
-o-
"Magnificent," Snowflake declared as they left her first theatre performance. "Truly a work of art. The art of gastronomy, perhaps, given their mastery of ham, but art nonetheless."
Snowflake's rapidly-filling notebook suggested theatre as an excellent evening-date idea, as it provided a conversation topic rife with potential for the subsequent dinner, and indeed she could see herself extemporising on the play they had just watched for some time to come.
Akane laughed. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."
"Most certainly," Snowflake said. "I particularly admire the depth of research that must have been conducted to underpin the acting. I could almost believe that the actress playing Tsunade had bastard Senju blood, so wooden was her delivery, and her apparent inebriation only added to the verisimilitude. As for Jiraiya, I am stunned by the subtle psychological insight the actor showed by eschewing all responsibility, in this case for familiarising himself with the script. When I consider the boldness with which he strode onto the stage, only to falter when action was finally required…"
Akane's smile disappeared. "That bad?" she asked softly.
Oh.
"I have never met the man myself," Snowflake said, "but I know what it meant for Kei, a girl abandoned by her parents, to finally begin to trust again. He had a responsibility to return alive, even more so than the other parents who fell on that day. I do not blame her for her inability to forgive him."
However, this was a heavy topic, and according to Akane, those were not first date material.
"Regardless," Snowflake said, "the actor playing Orochimaru did not fall behind his fellows in conducting research. A shame, then, that in his pursuit of accuracy he chose to research a literal snake. You and I are, to our deep regret, aware from personal experience that Orochimaru does not possess an exaggerated lisp—indeed, his diction is flawless—nor fangs half again the span of my hand, nor a tendency towards belly dancing."
"Is
that what that was?"
"I assume the intent was sinuous, serpentine movement. I give credit, however, to the actor for persevering with it even when Jiraiya's enormous hairpiece got caught on his fangs and flung off into the audience, or when Tsunade's kimono slipped to demonstrate anatomy worthy of the finest physician.
"It is a shame that
The Lamentable Tragedy of the Three Heroes of Leaf is unlikely to have a repeat performance, lèse-majesté laws being what they are, as I found the experience delightful. Thank you, Akane."
Akane beamed. "You're welcome."
"Unfortunately," Snowflake continued, "I am out of time, so dinner is not on the cards. Thank you for a most excellent day. I have enjoyed myself greatly, and learned many useful things which will surely surprise and impress my lovers. The Snowflakesphere owes you a debt of gratitude."
She paused.
"Would you… perhaps be amenable to a second such date sometime?"
For some reason, Akane's smile disappeared in favour of a look of pure startlement.
"Sure," she finally said as Snowflake began to fear she had committed another unforeseeable faux pas. "I think I'd like that."
-o-
Voting is closed. Normal service will be resumed shortly.
