"All right," Hazō said, crouching down and pulling out a pair of Air Dome seals. "In that case, there's one other thing I wanted to run past the two of you. Give me a second though, I want privacy for this." The room was too small to spread the seals very far so the space inside the Dome wouldn't be tall enough to stand up, but it would still be soundproof. Given his past issues with OPSEC, Hazō was taking no chances.

Noburi rolled his eyes and Keiko sighed, but they joined him on the floor, hunching down as the Dome formed above them; they straightened up cautiously once it was in place.

"I want to go find the Yakuza," Hazō said, covering his mouth to prevent any possibility of lipreaders. "They might have intel on the Exams."

His teammates digested that, their faces a clear mix of thoughtfulness and gratitude at the topic change from their prior conversation with the accompanying hints of a fundamental split within the team.

"I don't see any harm in it," Noburi said at last, also covering his mouth, "but are they likely to know anything? I mean, they're civilians operating in a city that the Mizukage has always had a tight grip on. I'm not even sure how they exist."

"They are useful," said Keiko, hand over her open lips. "They keep crime manageable and organized. The Mizukage would prefer that his—now her—society run smoothly without the disruptions caused by crime. She is capable of wiping the Yakuza out, but she would then need to assign more ninja to police the city. The Yakuza provide a central organization whose leaders can be held accountable and can prevent certain crimes that would be inconvenient for the Mizukage. She allows them to exist so long as they keep things quiet and have only a manageable level of corruption.

"In any case, the plan seems to have merit. How would you expect to find them, Hazō?"

"Remember how I told you that, back when I was in the Academy, I used to scam money at dice to help pay the bills?" Hazō asked. "Well, I didn't realize that some of those games were run by the yaks. There was one time where I got into a high-stakes game and I was cleaning up. This big guy with tats took me into a back room, put a hammer on the table, and explained how I should never come back to that particular bar and how I should stay away from yak games in the future. He didn't do anything, just gave me a warning. I'm thinking we should go back to that bar disguised as civilians and I win a lot at dice. When they pick me up we give the money back and explain that we just needed a way to get in touch."

"Seems like an offensive way to kick things off, but I don't have a better idea," Noburi said, failing to hide a jaw-cracking yawn. "Sorry, a little tired. What exactly are we hoping to get from the yaks?"

Hazō shrugged. "No idea. Anything about the Exams, I guess. Maybe information about future events, or briefings on some of the other teams."

Keiko was nodding. "Indeed. Many events will require significant preparation. For example, the Yakuza might well know that one of the local sealmasters was recently recruited to produce four thousand Night Light seals. Had we known that in advance it would not have told us where the event would be held, but we could have guessed that the seals would be something we were expected to collect."

Noburi frowned. "Wouldn't have to have been for the Exams, would it?" He thought a moment, then shook his head. "No, it probably would. Those things used to be uncommon, so if production suddenly ramps way up right now then it's for the Exams."

"Indeed."

"Okay, it's a plan. Not tonight though, I'm bushed. We go in the morning, after breakfast."

o-o-o-o

"Winna winna, chicken dinna! Pay up, boys! Poppy needs him a new set of shoes!"

Half a dozen glares bored into the man with the shockingly loud purple-and-green shirt. The combination was utterly eye-searing, but no one had said anything about his crimes against fashion. They cared far more about his crimes against probability; he had hit on every single throw of the dice since he rolled up to the game twenty minutes ago, and he had been loud and obnoxious about it, mocking the other players for the low stakes and their lack of skill. The other players had insisted on switching dice three times but it hadn't even slowed the bastard down—he took a few practice rolls to make sure the new dice were fair, then he went straight back to winning. Everyone was thoroughly sick of him but no one was willing to actually start a fight; he wasn't tall but he was barrel-chested with massive arms and a scar across his face that left his mouth permanently twisted into a vicious expression.

"Man, you Mist boys are even worse at this than they told me back home," the gambler said with a braying laugh. "'Takeshi', they said, 'those pipsqueaks in Mist suck at dice. They can barely count to seven, so even if they win it takes 'em five minutes to figure it out. You go to Mist, play a few games with those slope-headed idjits and you come back a rich man!' Boy, they weren't kiddin' none. Hey! Hey, what's a'matter? You leaving? Too much a pussy to stay in the game just 'cause you lost a couple o' rolls? Man, they were right about your balls, too—Mist boys ain't got none!"

The gambler's mouth clopped shut as a massive hand landed on his shoulder. A hand with tattoos across the back and up the arm. A very large hand and a muscle-bulging arm.

"Come with me," the giant attached to the hand rumbled. "Someone would like to talk to you."

"Yeah, now!" the jackass crowed. "My skills are gettin' recognized!" He stood and followed the giant through a door at the back of the bar.

The moment the door closed behind them the prisoner turned to his captor. "I do apologize for my behavior," he said calmly. "I wasn't sure how else to get your attention. The money's in my pouch, along with some extra for your trouble. Also, would it help if I screamed? You know, so the people outside would think—"

The giant grunted and glared. "Shut up. The boss wants to talk to you."

"Okay," the obnoxious gambler said, his voice resigned. He looked around curiously; they were in the middle of a small supply cabinet where the bar kept jars of booze, mops, mugs, and other implements of the trade. There was no sign of a boss or anywhere for one to be hidden. "Lead the way."

Without taking his eyes off the gambler, the giant shifted a set of shelves to reveal a door. The gambler opened it and walked through without waiting to be told.

The other side of the door was a surprisingly spacious office with a door opposite the one the gambler had entered through. Spacious or not, it was rendered cramped by the five separate desks that had been jammed into it. Four of them were against the walls on the sides of the room and occupied by men in short-sleeved shirts with ink stains on their fingers. The fifth desk was directly in front of the gambler and the man who sat behind it was the furthest thing from a scribe.

He wasn't as massive as his enforcer, but he had the arms and chest of a man who had spent time working manual labor before killing his way to his current position. His hair was long, gathered into a ponytail and tied back with a red string. A tattoo of a dragon, done in red ink and with careful detail, wound its way around his neck and across his face. He sat back in his chair, hands folded across his stomach and face utterly expressionless.

"Sit down," grunted the enforcer, shoving his prisoner toward the chair in front of what was very clearly the Yakuza boss. The gambler dropped into the chair without objection and sat calmly.

"I apologize for my behavior," he said, bowing deeply. "I didn't know how else to get a meeting."

The boss said nothing.

"If you'll allow me," the gambler said, "I'd like to return the money that I won in your game, along with a generous amount of interest as an apology for my rudeness. I've got some business I'd like to discuss if you're willing. I'm looking for information about the Chūnin Exams and I'm willing to pay quite a lot."

The boss said nothing. The gambler waited patiently.

A full minute dragged by, the only sound the faint scritch, scritch of the scribes' pens.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Eventually the gambler spoke again. "We really should move this along," he said. "Things are going to get noisy in about sixty heartbeats. Like I said, I just want to do business."

"You got some serious balls on you," the boss grunted. "'Get noisy', huh? I've got a dozen guys around here, including a ninja."

"Yeah, well, I've got the Pangolin Summoner. If she hasn't gotten the first all-clear code in about forty heartbeats then she's going to come join the party. That wall behind me is going to get smashed into toothpicks by a giant spikey murderball and then it's going to be hard for us to have a quiet conversation." He paused. "Here, maybe this will help." There was a puff of smoke and the obnoxious, middle-aged gambler was replaced by a teenage boy in camoflage clothes with a veil wrapped around his face. He unwound the veil quickly and met the boss's gaze.

The boss's eyes went wide. "What's the code?" he demanded.

"'Games in the sand'," Hazō said. "She's the woman in the yellow hat at the end of the bar, reading an Icha Icha book. She came in about an hour before I did."

A nod from the boss sent the enforcer hurrying out the door. A snapped-out order sent the scribes scurrying out of the room through the door behind the boss's desk.

"My name is Saitō and I am second lieutenant of this territory. How may I help you, Mr. Gōketsu?" the Yakuza boss asked politely, sitting up straight for the first time since Hazō had walked in.

"Let me say again that I'm very sorry for my rude behavior outside, sir," Hazō said. "It was solely intended to attract your attention since I needed to obtain a meeting quickly and did not know how else to do so. I will of course return all the money along with a generous additional payment. Beyond that, I was hoping to acquire whatever information you have about the Exams. Starting with how you recognized me. I mean, I was hoping you would, that's why I took the veil off, but I wasn't really sure it would work."

The yakuza boss smiled grimly. "Mr. Gōketsu, the Chivalrous Organization is strongly motivated to know every ninja in the village by face and, ideally, by name and personality. Otherwise how could we show respect and provide appropriate discounts to our beloved protectors?"

Hazō considered that for a moment. "I see. Well, in that case, what payment would you like in exchange for information about the Exams? Specifically, we're interested in what odds are being offered for bets on the Chūnin Exams. Also, anything you can tell us about what the events are and where and when they start. Dossiers on the other contestants would also be appreciated."

"That would be extremely valuable information, sir," the boss said. "Very closely held by the Mizukage's people."

Hazō considered him for a moment. "Mr. Saitō, I am not the negotiator on my team. I do tactics and close-in violence. If you were dealing with Keiko then she'd dance with you like this, offer and counteroffer. You could pretend you didn't have the information in order to drive the price up and she could pretend to walk out the door to signal that she wouldn't put up with it, and then you could suggest that perhaps you could come by it and she would say something appropriate and so on and so on. That's not really my thing.

"My team came to Mist for a couple of reasons. First, we're here to show that despite being less than three years out of the Academy we can mop the floor with any genin squad in the Elemental Nations. That's not a brag, sir. That's a fact. Pangolin Summoner, sealmaster, some techniques I won't even go into...you obviously know who I am, which implies that you know I spent the last two years in the cold. My team has killed everything and everyone that has ever threatened us from the Swamp of Death to the shores of Noodle. We prefer to negotiate and find common ground, but we can back it up with a truly shattering amount of overkill if we're pressed.

"My contact with the Chivalrous Organization in the past has been negative—I was threatened at a young age and prevented from earning money that my family desperately needed. I would like to set all that aside and do business with a clean slate between us. What I do not want to do, however, is pussyfoot around. Tell me what you can provide and what you want for it. If it's remotely reasonable, I'll get it for you. I have access to a great deal of money, I can make seals for you, and this deal would be the first stone in a bridge between the Chivalrous Organization and the Gōketsu clan. Oh, and the Mizukage, since I'm her nephew.

"So. Let me ask again: what do you have and what do you want?"

Saitō considered that for a moment. "Very well. Let me preface this by saying that I am second lieutenant, not first lieutenant and certainly not Oyabun. I don't want to send you away empty-handed; you're right that the opportunity to open negotiations with the Gōketsu is the best thing that's happened to the Organization in a long time. I feel that my superiors will support me making one deal with you in order to start things off on the right foot, but after this you should really negotiate directly with our Oyabun. That negotiation would be in person or through an intermediary at his choice. Is that acceptable to you, sir?"

Hazō nodded, offering a shallow bow of gratitude. "Very much so. I thank you for your forthrightness, Mr. Saitō."

The older man smiled tightly. "Excellent. Going back to what you said you were interested in: I have dossiers on many of the Exam contestants. I will not share the dossiers on Mist genin at any price, and I very much doubt that my superiors will either. We need to stay on the good side of the Mizukage or she will end us. So. The foreign teams. My information on them is obviously limited but it's a start. More importantly, I know what the next event is, when, and where."

Hazō straightened in surprise. "That is excellent news. What would you like in exchange?"

"Tell me what you want."

Hazō frowned in confusion. "I told you. The dossiers, information on the events...."

"No. Not what you are looking for at this moment. Tell me what you want in life. What is most important to you, what drives you to be here, now, and what will drive you to be wherever it is you are a year from now. Who is Gōketsu Hazō, former outcast of the Kurosawa clan and missing-nin?"

Hazō went still. "That is a very personal question, sir. Some people might consider it dangerous to ask a ninja such a personal question."

Saitō kept eye contact, his face utterly still as he shrugged one shoulder. "We both know that you can kill me if you so desire. This is why I ask; your response, be it violence, truth, or lies, will tell the Organization everything they need to know about you for future dealings."

Hazō considered that carefully. "Very well. I want to make the world better. I want to uplift civilians, give them the same quality of life that ninja have. I want to do the same for the clanless ninja, make them the equal of the clans. I want to make it so that civilians don't need to live in fear of chakra beasts and ninja don't have to kill. I want everyone to be rich enough and strong enough that the members of the Chivalrous Organization neither need nor want to hurt people and rob them. I want to see everyone literate and healthy. I want to be with my family, together." His face worked slightly and he swallowed. "I want my father back, and I want no child to ever have to lose their father again."

Saitō's eyebrows went up. He stood, and offered the deepest bow Hazō had ever received. "Thank you, Mr. Gōketsu," he said. "You honor me with your openness." He held the bow for a moment, then sat down, opened a drawer in his desk, and shuffled some scrolls before bringing one out. "The details of the event are on this; the event begins in the mission office of Mizukage Tower. It has been a pleasure doing business with you. If and when you would like to meet with our Oyabun, please return to this establishment and use the codeword 'sea turtle soup'. The process of taking you to him will be a bit involved and not quick, but we will arrange it." He held out the scroll.

"Thank you, Mr. Saitō," Hazō said, taking the scroll and bowing. "I shall look forward to future bargains with the Chivalrous Organization." With a polite nod he turned and left.