The Good

Finding the red light district wasn't as easy as Cole had thought. As a suspicious looking stranger most people gave him wide berth. He wasn't entirely alone in that he was mummed and too queer for the general public. But no one wanted to risk the attention of the former when combined with a stride filled with very overt purpose, elsewise one ran the risk of getting silenced in their sleep.

Every question resulted in a fruitless cringing, every store was suddenly much too preoccupied with accrued orders and appointements. Neither did Cole want to risk engaging one of the many, actual ninjas that roamed the alleys. Masked strangers met for two reasons and two reasons only: either for some underhanded grifting and skulduggery, in the most seedy of back-streets, or to duke it out in a battle of guile and entrigue. Since Cole wanted nothing to do with either he found himself in quite a pickle. Badgering one of the many non-disguised ninjas patrolling or socialising all over town would result in much the same.

Cole sat down on a bench along one of the many greens Konoha sported. It was getting stuffy underneath his headscarf and sweat ran down his brow. The night was temperate, the wind was blowing gently. It would have been perfect for a friendly get-together with his friends, over juicy grillables and a pitcher of sparkling top-fermented. They would have talked about the dumbest shit, told insider jokes underneath so many layers of irony they became their own language. The end result was always a squalid bunch of shit-faced idiots. And now he was here. In Konohagakure, the Hidden Leaf Village, locating the nearest brothel to cure the whores from ninja STDs. Cole leaned into the bench and gazed at the stars, beautiful little diamonds dotting the firmament. God, this would have been a blast with his pals; christ, the absolute dickery that would have ensued.

Hands clenched, Cole dispelled his fugue. He had more pressing matters to attend to than mental self-flagelation. He could figuratively flog himself whenever.

Reinvigorated, Cole continued his search into the second half of the night, eyes peeled for the tell-tale signs. Red paper lanterns strung along the lengths of buildings, casting eerie and sensual light at once. Perhaps an even more flagrant demarcator, like a gated street, decorated with all the gaudy baubles native to a pleasure district: golden streamers, streetwalkers beckoning from high-up balconies and bemused gutter folk occupying the ditches. It was to no avail.

Nothing of the like caught his eye. Only more streets brimming with drunkards and their companions, noisy but ultimately tame.

He could only consider one possibility as to why he didn't find hide nor hair of his destination. Like every other unpleasent eye-sore in a world of ninjas, it too was hidden away. It made sense. Shinobis were a prideful bunch that boasted strict, unbending principles and personal honor that was almost limitless. A righteous place like Konoha would never allow something as base and proscribed as prostitution to see the light of day.

What then could he do? The answers was looking the part of customer that would find such goods appealing. Money tend to make people much more talkative.

Cole perused the open-air pubs and bought the finest - cheapest - liquor he could find. At last, now that money was in play, people paid him attention. Dodoki, the girthy owner of the Burned Leaf, assured Cole that his home-brew, a turbid sake that emit wafts of burned rubber, was the most delecteable spirit in all of Konoha - Dodoki assured him it would put hair on his teeth. Cole listened half-heartedly to the man's sales pitch and passed a 50 Ryō bill over the counter. He dropped another 100 Ryō on the wood besides the flask of Dodoki'ki and fixed it with a finger.

"Now, Dodoki, my good friend. See, I appreciate your drink.", he pulled his scarf aside and took a swig, trying hard not to wince at the liquid fire that coated his throat, and wiped his lips. "Pahhh! Wonderful stuff. But ye' see I'm thirsty, you know. 'Been on the road for weeks, no girlie wit' me. Just me and me' self. Got a real man's thirst." he slurred.

Dodoki regarded him down his protruding belly, fortunately his hat covered his eyes. One meaty finger stuck to the proffered bill. And he pushed it back to Cole. "Sorry pal, no can do." A distinct disrespect had grown in the man's voice and Cole knew, from that point on, that his stay was limited to the contents of his flagon.

Cole put the bottle to his lips and nipped. That much was expected. But it was bait in the end, to lure the more disreputable sort of men. A bartender rarely denied a customer his wishes, endlessly curious to anyone that dipped his toes in shady business.

Ever so slowly Cole drank away at his craddled bottle, one sip at a time and one eye on the ongoings of the city.

It didn't take long until a cloaked individual broke away from the throng of people and joined Cole at the counter to his left. It was a very conspicuous individual with a mask of grainy wood.

Arms crossed, the person propped themself on the wood, one bandaged hand fingered a cherry-blossom engraved card. It dangled there limply for a moment, until Cole took it from the stranger's hand, free from any resistance.

Cole stilled for an instant to brood but stashed the card finally. He took a mighty pull of his bottle, stood up and left the bottle and the establishment behind. Liquid courage was good and all, but he could ill afford to be smashed where he went. "Thanks boss!", he shouted over his shoulder back at Dodoki. The man ignored him and assiduously served his other customers.

The stranger joined into the jostle like smoke, always just a few steps ahead of Cole and gesturing patiently, leading him down snaking back-alleys. "Thanks, by the way.", he whispered. The person remained close-lipped and moved on. Cole eyed them warily under the brim of his hat.

So far he had refrained from using Insight on passerbys to preserve his stamina, but he couldn't risk the same with the shady figure before him. Antecedent was collecting as much information as possible, a problem if the thug kept his mouth shut. Cole withdrew the business card and fiddled around with the piece of paper.

'The Dancing Cherry Blossom' was written atop in bold. It was a quaint pink emblazoned with the motif of a cherry-blossom tree, abstracted into the shapely figure of a woman.

"Call me curious, buuuut... what kinda gals does your establishment offer?" Cole shimmied closer, all intrigue and roguish. The person distanced themself quickly.

"Aw! Come on, don't be like that! That'll just make me more curious!" Cole drawled. He closed the gap and elbowed the stranger. "Tell me, what kinda gals do you like? Big tits? Perky ass? Pillowy thighs? Nah, don't tell me... you a feet-man! You one of those kinky fuckers!"

The stranger cringed away from him. "Neither." They mumbled and put two steps of distance between them, content with the quiet.

'Fucking finally.' Cole groaned and activated Insight.

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Name: Yuya

Sex: Female

Age: 14

Level: 14

Emotions: Impatient, Irritated, Tired

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Cole decided to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the night and follow Yuya like a good little duckling.

(I decided to remove the other two chapters and have them be published over the next few hours. Otherwise I won't get any reads XD.)