Chapter 10

Tea Capital
Ryoma, Recently Promoted Ninja

The capital of Tea Country was much like the capital of Wind Country, in that a Daimyo lived and ruled here. It was much unlike the capital of Wind Country in that the region had generally gentle winds, slightly more humid air, and an overall more temperate climate. Tea Country made the bulk of its wealth in the shipping industry, being a massive peninsula full of mountains and valleys that specialized in the bulk production of a luxury good- Tea.

The biggest problem they had was usually the pirate-fleets, ones that were rumored to be stationed somewhere down in the impoverished Land of Sea south of them. Even then, the pirates usually had the good sense to not take too much and usually refrained from actually killing anyone involved, so the lost profit was mostly just lost profit for the various shipping magnates and port-clans that made the country their home.

The Tea Capital itself was located down on the tip of the peninsula, the wealthiest port in the entirety of the Elemental Nations. A sprawling urban landscape that started from the beachfront and clawed its way up towards the southernmost mountain. The very top of this mountain held one of the largest and best-funded buddhist temples, with a roadway up to it ironically lined with about a thousand shinto shrines.

A few hundred meters lower than this grand and distant temple, along the flatter section of slope leading down from the mountain and overlooking the sea on three sides was the palace of the Tea Daimyo, surrounded by a small city worth of noble apartments and other fancy luxury-places.

Further down from this was the merchant and residential area, until finally one finally reached the beachside docks and industrial regions. These regions were all interspersed with the occasional long string of powerlines hanging over roadways up and down the mountain, powered by generators down in the city proper.

Like all major cities in the Elemental Nations, it was a mixture of old fashioned architecture with little bits of more modern conveniences occasionally scattered around. Very anachronistic with the thousand-year old noodle shops sitting next to light poles. Not too many though- popular attitudes considered powerlines and generators and soot in the air to be unpleasant to look at and not really worth all the potential benefits if it meant ruining the view. Most countries had entire wings of their government bureaus dedicated to regulating ‘the aesthetic impact’.

Chakra-usage made up for quite a bit, and with lessened need for industrial power the various Daimyos were in no particular hurry to adopt these ‘advancements’ en masse. Most of this technology was imported from overseas in limited quantities in specific, regulated ports, from distant lands that made first ship-contact a few centuries back.

Or something along those lines- Ryoma usually had more important things to worry about, so he wasn’t actually sure how accurate all that information was. As with any large event involving a large number of people, the reality of the situation was probably significantly more complicated that what he was making it out to be.

He was usually a bit busy with being a child soldier to get into civilian histor-

“You’re monologuing again.”

Ryoma sighed, and cast a slightly annoyed eye to his side and downwards. Now well enough to walk about, Mari was grinning up at him with an amused gleam in her eyes. They had reached the Tea Capital yesterday evening, the clients had been checked into their noble apartments under watch by grumpy looking Samurai, and today was the first day of the festivities.

Which meant most of them were walking around, watching their clients from a polite distance, and generally ‘enjoying’ the atmosphere of the festival. Ryoma, for his part, wasn’t really a fan of all the noise and smell, but that was the price you simply had to pay for doing escort missions like this.

“And such a good monologue it was.” Ryoma shook his head, eyes trailing to a Kiri ninja walking by. A tall, robust looking man with bright red hair and a scowl. He nodded in the universal ‘I’m on bodyguard duty’ way, a gesture that was returned before they passed each other. Lots of ninja were present, and typically the unspoken rule for being around so many other ninja was ‘if you’re going to fight- do it away from the clients’.

Ninja that get bystanders killed meant that hiring a ninja was less popular, and that was something that few ninja wanted to have happen. Typically the one who started hostilities in the middle of a city got ganged up on by everyone else, even theoretically neutral parties, because dead civvies hurt everyone’s budget.

It was just good form to avoid collateral damage, most of the time. Not always, but most of the time.

Up ahead, Lady Ikeda and Madam Gozen were playing one of those festival games that scammed you.

“Pweh- You’re at a festival and all you’re monologuing?” Mari stuck her tongue out at him. “You should be enjoying the atmosphere!”

“We’re still on a job, don’t forget.” Ryoma reminded, almost moving towards one of the shady sections of the street before finding a Tani ninja already standing there. He slumped in disappointment, the masked woman wearing mesh and little else tilted her head in amusement as he moved along to find a different spot to stand around all ninja-like in.

“Then you should be focusing on the client instead of your monologues!” Mari pointed out teasingly.

“You’ll find that I have more than enough energy to do both.” Ryoma waggled a finger, finding another good spot just in time for Lady Ikeda and Madam Gozen to get frustrated with the stand and move along. His brows pinched together in irritation, even as Mari and the Tani-nin giggled at his frustration.

He sent a sour glance their way rolling his eyes and moving forwards again, passing a blond Iwa ninja currently demolishing a few dango sticks. Despite the abundant presence of potential enemies, Ryoma wasn’t too worried about attack right now.

Right now was entirely too obvious. If an attack were to come, it wouldn’t be during the day.

—

It’d be at night.

The distinctive hiss-poof of a gas-canister suddenly being depressurized immediately pulled him from his trained half-sleep and hands together in a series of rapid handseals.

“Wind Release : Convection Air.” The jutsu came out almost before he was actually awake, a bubble of outwards-circling air forming around him less than a second later.

“In the vents!” Mari hissed next to the doorway, backing away and readying her immense iron fan with a single hand. Their bedroom was the guest room attached to the noble-apartment that Ikeda and Gozen were renting out for the festival. The konoha ninja were attached to another guest-room, because nobles had entirely too many rooms and not enough stuff to put in them apparently.

Ryoma almost commanded Mari to perform Convection Air herself, before remembering that she was currently down one arm. He threw himself up and over, standing back to back with her to envelop her in the protective bubble while reaching down to withdraw his bulk storage scroll and raising his fingers to summon chakra-strings.

The vent was- there. A mostly standard ventilation shaft covered in a thin metal cover. The hissing-gas noise was coming from within, behind the metal grill. Four strands of chakra flew forwards and ‘grabbed’ the screws holding the vent in place, twisting them rapidly as his other hand readied the storage scroll.

Two seconds later, the screws popped loose and the vent fell off, he tossed his scroll forwards on another string while reaching into the vent-shaft and grabbing at the canister inside.

A puff of smoke later and the hissing canister was sealed away, his strings going wide to open the window, and his other hand catching the scroll as he pulled it back.

“Move- check the client!” Ryoma commanded, moving with Mari into the other room, the noble suite. The Samurai was there, already awake with the sound of their movements and hand on his sword. The Konoha ninja emerged a moment later, looking frazzled and somewhat disoriented.

Ryoma idly noted that Asuma wore pajamas to bed. He wasn’t sure if he was surprised or not.

“Poison gas.” Mari quickly explained to the old samurai as Ryoma raised his hands and disassembled the other air-vent, rapidly sealing away the second gas-canister hissing away inside. By this point the nobles were starting to shift, they were apparently pretty heavy sleepers.

The Samurai’s eyes sharped into slits as he firmly nodded, getting up properly to shrug on his armor with a grimace.

“Braggart, you use poison, right? Recognize this?” Gaku quickly began with a growl in the back of his throat, twin tantos raised and ready. Ryoma knew for a fact that he still had a broken leg and arm, the fact that he was standing at all was impressive. “Smells metallic and sweet, along with something else I can’t identify.”

“That could be a thousand different things- I’d have to see the effect.” Ryoma grimaced. “Was any in your room?”

Raido held up an explosive seal, one of the empty ones that he had given them a few days back, now filled as indicated by the new sigil in the middle of the paper. Asuma tossed a spent gas canister his way, which he caught and inspected as fast as he could.

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Metallic, sweet, and faintly something like a permanent marker. Gaseous form and smell factor indicated something to be inhaled. He deepened his scowl, strings working to remove the cap of the canister and glaring into the inside. No storage seal at the back, limited capacity for each canister, low dosages are still effective.

Fast-acting then- any competent ninja could get this settled almost immediately. “We aren’t dead yet- either it’s not very lethal or it has a long onset.” He commented, sealing the canister away and shaking his head. “Still not enough to go on- If I had a lab, maybe.”

Gaku grimaced back, closing his eyes for a moment before clearly coming to a decision. “Braggart, you and my team are least injured- forwards scouting while Mari and I remain with mister Samurai?” To guard the client, was unspoken.

Logical enough. Those three together probably had enough hand-to-hand ability to hold the line long enough for any of the rest of them to return. “Genin, how good are you three at fighting indo-“