A Voice in the Wind - 25.2

Chapter 25 - Festival, Part 1 (2 of 2), continued

Sakura's excitement was full blown as she stepped away from the round gate of the old samurai home. The blue sky was waning, but the cherry trees still kept their daylight blush. Sakura breathed in the smells, listened to the laughter. It was such a relief after the hours in the stifling meeting hall. People walked around her, bustling, talking and admiring. Petals fell like rain, hanging weightless in the air. It seemed like a dream. Like the whole village was caught up in one of the glorious swirling balls sold at the merchants' booths.

Darkness slowly descended, the lanterns were lit, painting the pale blossoms in the rouged reds of the night before. Sakura knew she had one more job to do before she could find him.

She stopped at a wall of garish faces. Fierce men, pale women, frowning gods and comical animals all stared back at her with empty eyes. Sakura studied the masks. She really didn't want to look at or like any of them, and none seemed to suit him. But at the end of a row of kittens with pink bows, were a handful of kitsune masks.

The prankster. Those would do.

Her hand hovered over a set of fox faces, glossy black with blood red flames swirling out at the edges, but she decided they looked too menacing. This night was to be fun. She kept going, past a more docile brown pair, to a set of sleek white fox faces. Gold arches accentuated the nose and eyes, and playful red whiskers streaked up the sides. Perfect.

She unhooked them and quickly paid.

Red laces tangling together, the masks gently bumped her leg as she walked. Sakura passed down the long lanes beside the canals, ducking under frothy pink branches and sweeping pale petals out of her hair. When the crowds began to ebb, she knew she was nearing the residential area where she met him last night.

Her excitement mounted the closer she got to the alleyway. But turning the dark corner extinguished her anticipation. He wasn't there.

Moving deeper down the narrow lane, Sakura slipped the cloak from her hip pack and snapped it at her neck. She found an inconspicuous spot to wait, crouched down and melted into the shadows.

She didn't intend for it to be a good hiding place, but apparently it was. Because when Katsuro came silently hopping over a nearby building, dropping to the road with a muffled thud, he never even saw her.

He headed toward the main road, movements tight, footsteps deadly quiet. Sakura marveled at his stealth for a moment before rising out of the shadow.

The grinding of her heel was so subtle it barely registered to her, but he whipped around as if someone called his name, kunai flashing silver against his cloak.

"Sa-Sakura," he said breathlessly.

She smiled and closed the distance between them. He stowed his kunai.

"You should never…I thought you were…." He looked into her face seriously for a moment, then shook his head. "I-I don't know what I thought. Were you waiting long?"

"No, not long," she said warmly. "Here, I brought you something."

Katsuro reached reflexively for what she had produced from behind her back, but his hand froze suddenly. His body went rigid.

Between them, two white fox faces glowed dimly in the dark light. Their hollow, sightless eyes waiting to be filled.

Sakura untangled the laces and walked around behind him. Panicked confusion rooted Katsuro to the spot.

"Remember," she said over his shoulder, "so we can go to the festival without having to henge?"

"Oh," he gulped. "Yeah." That's right, he had agreed to this. But he had no way of knowing—

A gentle pressure weighed down one shoulder. With her other hand she smoothed down the hood of the cloak, her fingertips just grazing the exposed skin at the back of his neck. The tingling awareness that accompanied her touch set him even more on edge. He meant to turn, but she stepped closer, holding his shoulder firmly.

"Hang on," she muttered, teeth clenched on the ribbon of the other mask.

Katsuro was about to tell her no, that there was no way, that he couldn't possibly wear it, when she raked her fingers through the back of his hair. His stomach tightened, like he'd been punched, but...but in a good way. He let his shoulder relax under the weight of her hand. She dragged her fingers over his hair a few quick times, smoothing out the most unruly sections.

"Don't want to tie your hair in the knot," she mumbled past the ribbon, leaning into him slightly.

Faint puffs of breath skittered across the nape of his neck. It made his breath catch. He would have been happy to stand there all night, just like that....

"Ready?"

Sakura's hands lifted off him and a black curtain dropped over the world. Gasping sharply, he squeezed his eyes shut. But there wasn't long to entertain the sickening thoughts about the mask he was wearing.

Immediately, her hands were slipping back over his hair, pulling the ribbon taut and tying it in place. Eyes closed, he was still alert to every little touch, the sweet sensations triumphing over his unease. She tightened the knot, smoothed around it, and then, when he thought she was done, she reached up and tousled the top of his head.

His eyes snapped open, and the world returned, unchanged.

Sakura walked back around, inspecting his face. "Very handsome. Can you do me?" Turning away, she held her mask up over her shoulder.

Katsuro stared at the ghostly fox face, held even with her soft, pink hair.

He swallowed thickly. Too far in to back out now.



But the reward for going through with this was right in front of him. He took the mask.

With his other hand, he slowly gathered the length of her hair, letting it fall in waves down the back of her neck. He smoothed down the sides as best as he could, feeling suddenly clumsy.

Her hair was soft and cool, just like he remembered it from so long ago. He had wanted to touch it on many occasions since then, but he'd always held back. Now, though, he had an excuse.

He let her hair slide over his fingers, admiring the sleek texture, marveling at how the color picked up the light, even in the dim lane.

Katsuro didn't think he'd tarried too long, but when she turned her face slightly, he caught a knowing smile on her profile.

"Sorry," he said hastily, and slipped the mask over her head.

She turned to him, all pink hair and fox face. Katsuro couldn't shake the feeling he was trapped in a nightmare.

But her green eyes smiled up at him through the mask. "We're going to have a great time, you'll see."

Sakura busied herself, adjusting her hood, pulling it far out over her face, completely enshrouding her hair in darkness. She fidgeted with the edges of the hood for several moments more before resolutely dropping her hands to her sides.

Then, while Katsuro was still fighting the vertigo of really having to go through with this, she stuck one pale hand out into the darkness between them. Palm open.

He glanced at her face, the mocking kitsune mask. But her eyes were there too. Wide and searching, her gaze hopeful.

He didn't know what he was doing anymore. Everything seemed to be going wrong. But then here she was. Standing in the middle, bridging the gap. Making the difference. And suddenly, accepting her, and whatever it was she was offering, seemed right.

Slowly, he slipped his hand into hers. He'd go. He'd go with her, and he'd see this thing she wanted him to see. And he wouldn't look at her mask. Only her eyes.

She squeezed his hand, and he remembered to breath. She squeezed again.

"Your hood," she said expectantly.

"Oh, yeah." He flipped it forward with his other hand. "Okay?"

Sakura nodded. She took the first step and they headed down the lane toward the canal.

Something of self-doubt must have crept in, because when they were almost out of the darkness she whispered apologetically, "I know it's not as safe as last fall in the country, when there was no one around, but I'll keep close watch. And hopefully," her voice lingered over the last words, her hand tightened a fraction, revealing her thoughts, "you'll enjoy it here too."

Under the mask, he smiled, finally remembering who he was when he was with her.

He shifted his palm, interlacing his fingers with her and squeezed her hand back. "I know I will."

Sakura looked up at him, and was glad to see the crinkle at the corner of his eyes had returned. He was smiling. She grinned back brightly, and they left the dark lane.

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The festival was a sight to behold, and Katsuro was duly impressed…after he got over the initial shock of wandering around in the disguise. But what she said was true: There were so many people donning all manner of masks, they blended right in. No one gave them a second look.

Though he didn't feel as free as Sakura, her eyes dancing across the scenery without reserve, he did feel safe enough to enjoy himself.

Katsuro marveled at the petals, falling like snow around them. He let her tug him this way and that, feasting their eyes on all the pleasant distractions of a village festival. Her touch alway gentle, leading him from merchant stalls to street performers. Pointing out her favorites or relating little stories. The sweet chime of her laughter threading through all the little scenes.

Katsuro quietly took it all in. The riot of sights and sounds, the colorful crowds, all drawn to the frisson of blossom viewing. And with her disguises, they were just two more local youths, masked faces and streaming cloaks, hurrying down the petal-strewn lanes.

The cherry trees were beautiful, she was right, but they took second place to just being with her. Simply carving out a little more time. He sighed, trying to shake the burden of his thoughts. For this small moment, everything was alright.

He glanced around, checking the rooftops as he'd done almost habitually since he arrived earlier a few hours before. But still nothing was amiss. He turned back to Sakura, glad she hadn't noticed his distraction.

Her gaze was fixed ahead on an old stone lantern erected near an old gnarled cherry tree. She suddenly stepped off the lane to get a closer look.

Bending casually to inspect the relic, Sakura ran her fingers over the lines carved in the pedestal detailing it's history. Even Katsuro stopped on the path, looking to see what had captured her attention.

But beyond the lantern, Sakura had noticed something far more important. Coming up the lane was a group of well dressed men and women. Sakura recognized a few of them from the meeting.

Face tipped down, she peered straight out over the curled top of the lantern. From the protective cover of the mask her eyes darted over the scene, committing their faces to memory. She'd go over her notes later to see if she could find connections.

A gap in the group gave Sakura a clear view of another familiar face. The handsome politician from the meeting was in the middle, all broad smiles, entertaining a few of the more elegant clan women that flanked him.

He threw his head back with a laugh, and Sakura inwardly cringed. He was really laying it on thick.

The group was turning down another lane, heading into a very exclusive neighborhood. Sakura straightened slowly, hoping for a glimpse of their final destination.

But something snagged the politician's attention. He looked clearly in her direction. The big smile slipped.

Lagging a step behind, he tipped his head. An unmistakeable spark of recognition had dawned on his face, but his eyes shifted suddenly. At that moment, Katsuro stepped out beside her, curious to see what was so interesting about the lantern.

Acting on instinct alone, Sakura turned swiftly, blocking the politician's view of Katsuro.

Though she had a double motive — she didn't want Katsuro asking questions about her mission — she wasn't thinking of that when she moved. It was the desire to protect him, shield him from the unwanted attention he hated so much, that caused her adrenaline to spike.

But his mask was firmly in place. Even right next to him, his identity was perfectly concealed. Under her mask she blew out a low, relieved breath.

Katsuro stood, looking at her seriously. Then, suddenly, he reached out toward her face.

It was so quick and purposeful, Sakura forgot for an instant that she was wearing a mask. She expected to feel the gentle brush of his hand against her cheek. But it never came.

Instead he adjusted something at her collar, then dropped his hand back into the folds of his cloak.

Sakura stood watching him, puzzling over the soft gesture, until he said awkwardly, "Your hair was showing."

A lone curl of pink hair had worked its way out of the hood. The disguise made it impossible to feel.

"Oh, it was?" she said, finding the offending lock and pushing it back even further.

Under the mask, her face fell to a sudden frown. She glanced back at the spot where the group was walking, but it was deserted. Turning a little more, she scanned down the side road. The group, ambling slowly, was just turning out of sight. She caught a glimpse of the politician's cream silks as they disappeared.

"Something wrong?"

"No. N-nothing," she said. "Come on, let's keep going," she rejoined brightly.

Katsuro frowned slightly, but said nothing.

They walked away from the center of the festival, leaving the bustle and crowded lanes behind them. The crowds thinned and the noise quieted. Around them people strolled pleasantly, many in close conversation.

Having something to compare it with now, Katsuro decided he preferred her solitary missions to this village one. Out there, beyond those walls, they were able enjoy each other's company without reserve. But here, it seemed, there were things weighing on both of them.

He cleared his throat, falling back to the topics he had loved to hear about the season before. "So, how is everything? Have you trained a lot, learned new things?"

She smiled. "No, not so much. More work than anything. When I go on missions, I have to sacrifice my hospital shifts. So I had a lot of hours to make up."

"Hmm."

Talk turned to her village, her life, and the little mundane things that moved her days along. For Katsuro, it was hard to remember that the things that made up her life also resided in the village he hated. But he listened quietly.

Ahead of them a drama was playing out beside one of the shops. Several kids were huddled in an alley, waiting for the sharp-eyed shopkeeper to turn his back.

Sakura continued speaking, but both their attention was drawn to the scene.

The kids were young, rough-edged and a little lean. They were clearly eyeing one of the box of wares displayed outside the store. They were just creeping into the open to steal some of the colorful knick-knacks when the store owner spotted them. Wheeling around, he swung a meaty fist, aiming to catch one of the little thieves. And one kid wasn't fast enough. He snatched the kid's collar and hauled him back.

Sakura fell silent. Both slowed their pace, keenly aware of the situation. The shopkeeper's face flushed with anger, his smoothed hair flying out in anger. He growled threats at the cringing kid, and just when he looked like he might let the kid have it — when Sakura and Katsuro knew without discussion they would certainly intervene — an elegant couple stepped toward the storefront, inspecting his wares at the opposite corner.

The man's demeanor changed instantly. He dropped the boy, smoothed back his hair and turned fluidly. He was all smiles and wide gestures, inviting them to anything he had.

The kid seized his opportunity: Before scrambling back down the alley, he grabbed as much as his hands could carry, the other street urchins lunging forward out of the shadows to help him.

By the time Katsuro and Sakura came even with the shop, the kids had disappeared down the alley.

She shook her head, letting her eyes drift to the gorgeous waterway. "This village is different from mine. It's much wealthier, and much more beautiful. But things like that…." She tipped her hand back to the store behind them, frowning. "Those kids may have been up to no good, but no one would hurt a child. Especially ones that looked like they were in need. But...I suppose that's the nature of a merchant village over a shinobi one. We live by a different code—"

"All villages are the same to me." Katsuro said quietly, stopping himself from letting his real thoughts spill over. "You just don't see it."

Sakura smiled softly, undaunted. "You would like it there. I know you would."

He ignored her completely. "So, how are your friends?"

If he was hoping for a recounting the stories she used to tell, the familiar characters that made up her world, then he was bound to be disappointed. She only touched on the ones he remembered. This time, someone else was foremost in her thoughts.

"It's hard being part of a team when you are constantly having your feet knocked out from underneath you."

He shot her a questioning look.

"Not, literally. But we're always passed over for big missions." Katsuro watched her, waiting for her to continue. He hated to admit he was curious.

"In Konoha, you get ranked on your missions. I'd like to try for some higher ones, but I need to be part of a team." She shrugged.

"Why are you passed over?"

"One is always out, and the other," she fidgeted with the edge of her cloak, "well, he doesn't make anything easy."

Katsuro was silent, his full attention was focused on her. Now, he desperately hoped she would continue. The little fire sparked by her talk of the village was only fueled by the mention of Sasuke. He wanted to know about him, wanted more reason to hate him. And it had nothing to do with Itachi.

But when she didn't elaborate, he continued nonchalantly.

"He seems to be a real jerk. I'm surprised they put him with anyone at all."

She was silent for a moment. "Well the council has to, you see," she said haltingly. "He's still part of a clan, even though…." She glanced nervously at Katsuro. But Katsuro looked back with clear-eyed understanding, nodding for her to continue. She cleared her throat.

"He's a talented nin. So the council has to accept him. But they treat him differently." She shook her head at the recollection. "They hold him back, keep him…locked away. Like he's some kind of secret weapon."

Her laughter bubbled up at the thought, but Katsuro barely heard it. Instead he scowled deeply. He was suddenly glad to have the mask on.

"Well, he is a jerk. He could make things easier." Her voice thinned. "But I think his life must be hard, no matter how much power he has." She shrugged, done with the subject.

It was the most she'd ever spoken about Sasuke. And now he wished she hadn't said anything at all.

Itachi was nearly taunting when he said Sasuke was his "hurdle." Katsuro was familiar with the tug of rivalry. But this new fiery feeling at her kind words towards him was entirely different. He hated Sasuke. And he liked it a hell of a lot better when Sakura hated him too.

A familiar dark chakra pulsed with his anger. He blew out a low breath. He needed to get everything back under control….

They walked in silence down the emptying lanes, until they were nearly to the wall.

Sakura realized as they walked that reminiscing about her village, her life, suddenly seemed hollow to her. Katsuro was still on the outside. And for no good reason. She let her thoughts wander to how different everything would be if Katsuro was there. She had spoken about it before, but never directly asked him.

Yet it occurred to her that if she didn't speak to him now, she might not get another chance. There was only one more mission coming up. If she didn't have another assigned before that mission, then any hoping of arranging a meeting would be impossible. She formed a desperate resolution: She should ask him. But with his aversion to villages, she'd have to convince him. What should she say?

Katsuro was mired in his own thoughts. The sight of the wall meant that they'd reached the end. This was it. He'd been running away from it all night. But now he knew he had to—

"Katsuro, you know…" She slid her mask off. "I don't want this to…. I mean, I want you to know…how much…."

She couldn't find the words. But her sweet thoughts were like magic to him. He pulled off the mask.

"I like doing things with you. And I don't know how many more missions I have coming up." Her eyes were big, her face was clear and focused on him. "In three weeks I deliver a scroll to the clan who hired me, but then that's it.

"I-I don't know when I'll see you again after that."

"Sakura-chan…." He stepped closer. She reached automatically to take the mask from his hand, hooking her fingers around the red laces. But instead of releasing the mask he caught her fingers, slipping his hand around hers and not letting go.

Every trouble he'd had over the last few days slipped away. Just looking at her face, knowing the he was the object she wanted to see above all others, was an amazing gift. How could he not want to bask in it just a little longer? She had no idea what she meant to him.

Sakura watched his eyes, looking over her face. He closed the space between them. That familiar warm swirling air returned. It circled tenderly up her throat, slipped gently over the contours of her face. It seemed to correspond with the intense look he had, something fiery and warm. She knew now, without a doubt, that strange, wonderful little breeze came from him.

She breathed it in, then bit her lip against the yearning sensation that swelled within her. The movement did not go unnoticed, and Katsuro dropped his gaze to her mouth, tipping his head ever so slightly.

She could practically feel the warmth pouring off him. He smiled into her face. The hair at her neck fluttered up in the teasing wind, dislodging the curl she had tucked behind her ear. Katsuro lifted his hand between them as if to tuck the errant lock back into place.

Feeling suddenly hot, deliciously nervous about what was to come next, she mumbled something playful to break the tension.

"You and your little wind thing," she said, glancing shyly away, even as her skin tingled for his touch.

But the gentle caress never came. She looked back. His hand was frozen between them, his eyes, wide and somehow hard.

"I told you, there's no wind thing."

He pulled his hand away. Her hair fell flat and cold against her collarbone. Sakura watched in confusion as he stepped back, retreating into himself. He turned away from her.

"Katsuro…is something wrong?" she said to the stiff line of his back.

He stopped, fist balled at his side.

She didn't wait for an answer. Instead she dashed around in front of him, grasping his arm through his cloak. Sakura looked into his face, noticing for the first time the shadows under his eyes. But he wouldn't look at her.

"I have to go," he said, voice tight. "And I can't—"

"Wait. I want to see you again before I leave."

He finally turned to her, taking in her whole face.

"Sakura, I…I…."

She hadn't put a name to her growing attachment to him. But she knew now these feelings ran much deeper than she had admitted to herself. She drew a calming breath. Plenty of time to explore these feelings later, she told herself, if only she could convince him. But first she needed to make a plan.

"Please," she pressed. "I-I just want to see you again. Will you come back?"

He rubbed a hand over his face, clearly wrestling with the decision. Finally, he sighed.

"Yeah. I'll come. But it will be late."

Sakura was pleased, relieved, but she still studied him with a measure of concern.

He couldn't take it. He looked away, shrugging a shoulder. "Places like this," he muttered, "make me jumpy."

Satisfied with this explanation of his behavior, she nodded and let go of his arm. "See you tomorrow night, then" she said, beaming. With a flicker of a smile, he was gone.

Walking back to the inn, Sakura felt as weightless as the blossoms around her. She trailed her fingers along the lowest branches, laughing quietly to herself as the petals streamed down.

Thankfully her village was nothing like this one. Otherwise it might have been a problem. But now knowing exactly how he felt, she was glad she hadn't blurted out her request tonight. She'd need to convince him how much different Konoha was from this merchant town. Then, once she'd laid out her case, she would ask him to come home with her.

She couldn't wait. Kicking up a swirl of petals, she crossed the arched bridge and headed towards the inn.