Promise #7 Money Is How The Clan Survives

  Shizu swayed in the morning light. Rings formed under her eyes like a tanuki. She quickly learned about them after encountering one scrounging for food during the twilight hours. It attempted to attack her before running off after a swift kick in the side. She imagined the rings they had were no different than hers. The idea of stealing her first few coins made it impossible to think of resting. Now she was regretting it with every passing yawn. Her disguise wasn’t nearly as well done like when Mama Tomei put it on her the first day, but with her exhaustion and the dirt caking her face from a lack of a bath, it did enough.

  “Are you sure you can do this?” Hojo asked. He tilted his head to the side, examining her. “This isn’t like cutting a purse and taking a few coins. You’re taking from the stores themselves.”

  Shizu nodded her head and stifled another yawn. “I can manage.”

  Hojo shrugged and pointed down the street. It was filled with people walking around. Some were crowding around different stalls that sold produce and meats in them. She was thankful she at least ate breakfast, or the smells would have added another distraction.

  “Choose one of the stalls. Don’t care which one you choose.” His voice grew dark, and he stepped in front of Shizu to block out her view. “I mean it. Do not get caught. I may not be able to help.”

  Shizu gulped and shuffled into the crowd. Her fingers stretched and loosened over the dagger tucked away in her belt. None of those she walked past gave her a second glance. This wouldn’t be a simple cutting of money bags with the needle blades he showed her the day before. This was up close and personal.

  “Just one coin. All I need is one coin.” She muttered under her breath to maintain her alertness. Any misstep would lead to her being captured.

  She paced until there were no more stalls then traversed back up. All the faces blended into one another.

  The smells of various foods wafted through the air. Each one begging to be devoured and enjoyed for the tastes they brought forth. She licked her lips and swallowed the saliva forming in her mouth at the thought of eating something. She turned her focus to the stalls with trinkets lining them. Most were worthless garbage or fakes the merchant peddled off as genuine good luck charms. A few created by the clan themselves to aid in making money that didn’t involve laundering or stealing.

  People lined the street, calling out to one another and negotiating prices. She slipped between people, dodging elbows and gazes in every direction. There were far too many people standing at each stall. She wouldn’t be able to get behind any of them without someone noticing her attempts to sneak into the back. A few stalls looked promising at first. This didn’t last long as more customers crowded the vendors like waves crashing into a cliffside.

  Shizu sighed. “It seemed a lot easier yesterday.”

  There was no point in attempting to wander around anymore and chose one of the stalls. The farmer wore a large sakkat that hid the top half of his face and around him was a multitude of bags filled with a variety of produce. Someone would come up with a request on certain items, and he would stack bags of food in their hands before they walked away again. No one stayed long enough to notice if she lingered a bit longer than needed.

  She ambled toward the stall filled with fish next to her target. There were a multitude of local fish in large boxes at the stall. Some were cut open already to showcase the meat inside while others appeared as they did when they were freshly caught. She leaned on a pole holding the fish stall aloft to get a better look at what was behind her target’s stall.

  With each purchase, the farmer placed the coins in a small bag attached at his waist then cinched it closed once more. It was close against his body and almost impossible to touch without him noticing her.

  She waited, watching the bag grow larger in size with every coin added to the bag. His fingers lingered on the new coins a little longer than she liked for him to. He stopped the line of customers by putting a hand up. With a quick movement, he untied the coin bag and dropped it into a crate next to his feet. He took an empty bag out from the same crate and tied it to his waist. Before he stood back up, he sealed the crate closed and wrapped a rope around the handle to lock it into place.

  Shizu smiled at her luck. “Thank you for your good business,” she whispered and moved closer to the stall.

  Each step made her heart pound louder. She took a deep breath and focused her attention solely on the bag of coins.

  “What are you doing here?” The vendor asked in a loud booming voice.

  Shizu stiffened and looked up at the vendor. His back was turned to her and facing an elderly man. His clothes were well-worn and tattered. She wasn’t sure if his clothes were older or his skin with the wrinkles that covered his face. He had small whiskers of gray hair sprouting from his chin and ears. Much more than what was on top of his head.

  The old man smiled. “I was worried about you. I wanted to come help. Are you going to deny your uncle at least that pleasure?”

  The vendor bit his bottom lip and grabbed a small cloth from the counter. He wrapped the cloth around the old man’s shoulders, tying it in the front like a blanket. “Oji-San, you need to stop worrying about me. I am managing fine on my own. You should be at home resting.”

  The old man shrugged. “I’ve been working the fields and selling at this stall long before my brother had you. I can take care of myself.”

  Shizu let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in. The two continued to argue amongst one another. She didn’t understand why the vendor didn’t just send his uncle out of the stall and back home. There was no need to respect a man who couldn’t fight. The Kitsune explained to her in many of the lessons that the people respected their elderly, but it made no sense to her. A sharp tool was worth far more than one that could no longer cut. Kamezo-sensei was far older than the uncle, but his training methods were superior to anyone else’s granting him worth.

  The thought of family made Shizu’s heart ache. Her family was back at the clan. They never treated her like the vendor did for his uncle. It wasn’t what family was with the Hikage clan. Yearning for family didn’t make sense when your family wanted to induce pain instead of affection. She shook her head, pushing the thought out of her mind and inched closer to the bag. Shizu flattened her body against the ground and slid forward. Occasionally, she looked up at the vendor and his uncle who were still in deep discussion over his right to be there.

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  She was a breath away and flicked her fingers, unraveling the rope around the handle. Shizu glanced back up at the vendor who was still fussing over his uncle. She opened the lid and tugged at the top of the bags. The bag slid open, revealing a multitude of coins. Many were shaped like rectangles ranging in bronze and silver in color.

  She lifted a few of the silver coins off the top of the pile and shoved them into her pocket. With a hard push, Shizu lifted herself off the ground and back toward the other stall. Her focus remained on the vendor and his uncle as she took a step back then another. Something hard bumped into her shoulder. She turned to look at what she hit and let out and audible high-pitched gasp. A stack of crates teetered back and forth before collapsing with a loud thud. Shizu cringed.

  “Wasn’t expecting that,” she groaned.

  “Stop, thief!” The vendor yelled out.

  Shizu froze.

  “You think I’m going to let you take my food?”

  He grasped Shizu’s shoulder and squeezed. His other hand reached down for her wrist so she couldn’t pull away. He turned her around to face him. The vendor’s front teeth were missing, and his breath smelled more like the kitsune’s shit if not worse. She gagged from the smell.

  The kitsune taught her simple hand-to-hand combat to release herself from another’s grasp, but her mind blanked to remember any of it. His hardened nails sunk into her flesh. Her feet wouldn’t move for her. She looked at the uncle and past him to find an escape route. Her only way through was back and it was blocked by the pile of crates she knocked over.

  “Don’t even think about escaping, street mouse.”

  The vendor’s uncle walked over to get a better look at Shizu and frowned. “You’re not from around here. I don’t recognize that face at all and I know everyone in this town. Who are you, boy?”

  Shizu didn’t answer. She leaned forward and snapped her teeth at the vendor’s arm. He recoiled in disgust. She couldn’t pull out her blades and be identified as part of the clan. An early lesson from Hojo was to never let people think you were a shinobi. Being a street urchin was better. Until then, simpleton maneuvers were the only options she could take.

  The vendor growled and yanked on Shizu’s wrist. “Brat doesn’t know his place. Oji-San, get the samurai here to arrest him.”

  The old man didn’t move. He shook his head. “Just let him have some food. He looks like he hasn’t had a true meal in so long and if he’s not from around here, he may be lost.” The softness and warmth in his voice reminded her of Mama Tomei.

  The vendor snarled and squeezed Shizu’s wrist tighter until she let out a yelp. “We’re hungry too, Oji-san. Or did you forget that taxes are coming up soon?” He turned and faced Shizu. “If my uncle won’t get the samurai, then I will just make sure you never steal from me again.” He reached down for a thin knife at his waist and stroked it across her finger. “One should be enough payment for today.”

  It was Shizu’s opportunity. Her mind raced to picture every movement he would make with the knife. All she needed to do was take it from his hand and then she could escape. Play it off as him fumbling so he didn’t suspect her.

  “There you are!” Hojo called out from the crowd.

  The vendor turned to see who was yelling. Hojo pushed through the crowd until he reached the stall. A smile stretched across his face but didn’t reach his eyes. Rage burned within them. His focus was completely on her.

  Hojo bowed deeply toward the vendor. “I’m sorry. Please don’t hurt him. He grew up in the countryside. He’s still ignorant of how life works here.”

  “See?” the uncle chuckled. “As I expected.”

  The vendor grunted and released Shizu’s wrist. She scurried quickly over to Hojo and away from the vendor. She tucked the coins into one of the patchwork pockets. A celebration for later about her near escape.

  “You should teach him better next time he comes out on his own. We don’t offer free food around here. Next time we won’t be so easy on him.”

  “You should feed your brother more,” the old man said in a lowered voice. A glint in his eye toward Shizu made her more aware that he knew the truth of the situation and saw through Hojo’s lie.

  Hojo cocked a half smile and scratched his head. “He practically eats all of our food right now. Not sure where he puts any of it, but he will be working harder to mind where he’s walking and not be so clumsy. I promise you that, Oji-San.”

  The old man grinned and nodded. “You see that, Nezu? He’s going to learn his lesson and will be fed more. No need to call any authorities.”

  The vendor, Nezu, grunted and shoved his knife back into his belt. “I don’t care if he is fed or starves for that matter. Just teach him proper manners next time.”

  “Of course. Of course,” Hojo muttered and pulled Shizu closer. “His lessons will most certainly dig themselves into his mind tonight.”

  They all bowed to one another. Hojo kept his hand on Shizu and dragged her away from the stall. His fingers burying themselves into her shoulders, shaking with rage that she knew all too well. The only thing left was the emotionless stare that felt more like daggers piercing into her very essence.

  “You were supposed to take an easy target and not get caught,” he growled once they were halfway down the road.

  “I thought he would be. His coins were just sitting there without anyone guarding them.” She plucked out a few of the rectangular coins and held them up. “I got what we came here for anyways.”

  Hojo looked down and smiled. “Good girl.” Hojo ruffled her hair and chuckled. All the rage melted from his features. He led her now an empty alley. “You need to be more careful. If I wasn’t watching you, you would have most certainly lost a finger at least.”

  Shizu gulped. “Arigatou, Hojo.” She rubbed her fingers; thankful they were all still there.

  “Just be careful next time, girl. Don’t need our image lowered because a trainee failed to pocket a few coins. You’ve got plenty more targets to go after before we’re done with you out here.”