Novels2Search
Marked for Death
Interlude: Up Close Yet Far Away​

Interlude: Up Close Yet Far Away​

It was Jibura Tobikomi’s motto that he’d sell his wares at a price that suited both parties or he’d jump in a chakra beast’s maw himself. Today was the first time he’d nearly taken the latter option.

Tobi (as he was to his friends, which included all potential customers, and thus everyone) had only needed a few minutes of market research to conclude that chakra gators made poor customers for his wares. They didn’t haggle, their body language was unreadable even to a trader of his skill, and after an unsuccessful round of negotiations he’d been forced to leave one of his product samples wedging open the gator’s mouth as he urgently made his escape. Somehow he doubted he’d be getting that one back intact after the trial period was over.

“Head southwest from here, and your journey will meet with a swift end indeed.” The old crone’s description of the local area had been perfectly clear. But while this landscape, a hideous mockery of the natural order filled with nothing but murderous beasts, did resemble the descriptions of Hidden Leaf he’d gathered on his way through Mist, he couldn’t imagine a place like this being the home of the infamous Will of Fire. And right now, with his clothes having soaked up half the water in the swamp as he fled, and the chill beginning to settle into his bones, he’d accept even the Idle Contemplation of Fire as a blessing from on high.

If there was one stroke of luck, it was the shelter built out of fallen trees. Seemingly abandoned long ago, it offered perfect protection from the elements and the eyes of insolvent predators both. Just then, Tobi was so busy counting his lucky stars that he would probably have given one of his precious telescopes away for free to the first person who came along. But of course, there would be no people in this terrible swamp of death. Once, he thought he heard some children’s voices in the distance, but he couldn’t imagine anyone bringing a child here of their own free will. It was probably another of those siren birds.

Tobi dried out his clothes as best he could and consulted his map. By his best guess, Leaf ought to be due north.

-o-

Tobi suspected he’d overshot Leaf a little, but at this moment in time he didn’t mind so much. Not when he was being given the opportunity to indulge in honeyed nuts, his biggest vice, while watching an afternoon’s entertainment at the makeshift arena. He wondered what incredible ninja magic the Liberator must have at his disposal to allow bees to thrive in this severe climate. Maybe he'd ask tomorrow during his audience with the man.

Next to him, a northerner built like a bear, with calloused hands that reminded Tobi of Grandfather's, passionately argued about ironsand purity with a ninja wearing knife bandoleers, while on his other side, a young woman in simple peasant dress was getting a little too enthusiastic about the fight. Her impassioned cheering was cute in a way, but he wished she wouldn’t keep unconsciously grabbing his nuts.

The Liberator really had worked miracles to get ninja and common people united behind a single cause. The commoners built, crafted and farmed while the ninja scouted, hunted and defended, but they did so side by side, supporting each other in their assigned roles rather than one existing purely to serve the other. The commoners didn't fear the ninja, and the ninja didn't look down on the commoners, at least nowhere near as much as in the hidden villages he'd been to. If the Liberator’s war was done soon, he might even suggest moving Jibura Glassworks here—with ninja-built defences keeping chakra beasts and bandits away, this was the safest settlement outside an actual hidden village, and once those ninja were done fighting, he was sure some of them would see the potential in working with craftsmen and traders to turn their magical powers into money. Money which there was only one obvious way to spend. Truly, the age of the telescope was just around the corner.

“Righteous Face Punching Style: Universal Problem-Solving Technique!”

His neighbour thrust her hands up in the air as she cheered, the motion obliterating what remained of Tobi's nuts. In retrospect, he should have seen that coming from a mile off.

-o-

He’d overshot Leaf again.

He didn’t think he could be blamed this time, though. It could all have been averted if the Liberator had just bought telescopes for his guards, allowing them to spot the incoming ninja force before it was practically on top of them. But no, he’d been too busy dealing with the fallout of that assassination to have time for a travelling merchant. And in the aftermath, Tobi had had no choice but to flee, without even the time to buy a better map.

Still, Kobana wasn’t a bad place. The Hydra Foundation hadn’t been interested in his wares, but on the other hand they had asked some probing questions about the lens structures, and whether it would be possible to create a focused telescope for better vision of things that were very close by, rather than those far away. They already had a variety of prototypes, they’d told him, but nothing they could test without proper lenses made by a professional.

Unfortunately, while Tobi was perfectly happy to help a prospective customer, he was having a devil of a time finding ninja willing to transport the prototypes home to Wave for Grandfather to look at. At this rate, he might have to give up and move on. Maybe this time he’d reach Leaf without incident.

-o-

Success! Truly, the stars smiled on the persistent. While he’d missed Leaf once again, Tobi had finally found a prospective customer. The man was rich enough to not only stay at Mizutani Hot Springs but to have his own retinue, and most importantly of all, his unspecified work apparently involved frequent scouting for danger which would be greatly helped by a quality telescope. This time, Tobi would make the sale, or he’d jump in a chakra beast’s maw himself.

Tobi had worried, at first, whether he could afford the investment of visiting a fancy hot springs resort to scout out the local market, but the gamble had paid off. And he already had his eye on a few other Mizutani guests who should be able to afford his goods, either as a status symbol or as a professional tool.

Tomorrow, tomorrow his downstairs neighbour would finalise the sale, the first on Tobi’s so-far-disastrous trip. From there, success beckoned like sunlight glinting off piles of distant gold. His spirits lifted by hope for the future, Tobi had just stepped out of his room for a spot of stargazing when—

-o-

Sarubetsu was a more colourful place than Tobi had expected, given its backwater location. No, that wasn’t fair. He should be counting his lucky stars that he’d managed to get out of Hot Springs before they closed the borders at all. After all, with his potential clientele fleeing as if the resort was coming down about their ears (which was only partly the case), being trapped in the country would have been a disaster.

Unfortunately, nobody here seemed interested in telescopes, not even at what he considered a reasonable discount price. Locals mistakenly thought they had no use for them, while travellers invested all their money in the local “produce” instead. Wasn’t there a single travelling ninja here who wanted a telescope?

“You want me to cut your throat, Hinago bitch?!”

A few seats down, a ninja had just leapt up onto a table, knife in hand, apparently ready to start a fight.

Tobi really needed to get out of Sarubetsu.

-o-

Tobi had to admit that he was apprehensive. After those unfortunate detours through Iron and Snow, he’d finally made it to Leaf, only to learn from his preliminary research that its last telescope salesman (Leaf was rich enough to have its own telescope salesman!) had recently gone out of business. This did not bode well for his sales figures.

However, his research had also revealed to him that there was a new and powerful clan on the rise, one with all the wealth of a legendary hero turned Hokage. And while the existing clans had probably already bought all the telescopes they were going to, the Gōketsu represented untapped potential for his business. Tonight, he would head straight to the compound and offer them his services. For a special first-time-customer price, even.

-o-

It happened the instant Tobi stepped within sight of the Gōketsu Compound.

“Hold it right there, Hyūga stinker!”

The pale, lanky man had appeared out of nowhere with ninja-like speed.

“Think you can just walk up to my home and start spying on my family, do you?” The man stabbed his finger in the direction of the sample telescope Tobi had been carrying in his right hand, a very fine Jibura Super Extender Max Plus 1000 model with a smooth grip and custom brass finish.

“I-I’m not a spy,” Tobi stammered in surprise. “I’m just a travelling telescope salesman.”

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

“Oldest excuse in the book,” the man growled.

“How could I even be a Hyūga?” Tobi insisted. “They’re the least likely clan in the world to need telescopes!”

“Not for getting around privacy seals they’re not,” the man said. “This is just the kind of underhanded trickery I’d expect from you stinkers.” He reached for a pouch at his waist, then tensed as if restraining himself through a great deal of effort.

“If you get off this property within ten seconds, I won’t blow you into bits too small even for the Byakugan to locate.”

“But I only wanted to—“

“One,” the man counted, pulling out a piece of paper with a design on it from the pouch.

“But I don’t have Hyūga eyes!“

“If I were a Hyūga, a way of disguising my eyes would be the first thing I’d invent. Four. Five.” The man now had five pieces of paper.

Never mind. Right now, Tobi needed some way to take control of the negotiations as a proper trader.

“Six. Seven.” The man pulled out more pieces of paper, one by one.

Wait. He’d said “blow you into bits”, hadn’t he? Tobi suddenly had a theory about what this man’s ninja powers were, and what that many pieces of paper would mean.

“Eight.”

Discretion was the better part of salesmanship. Lots of discretion. Immediately.

“Thank you for your time, valued customeeeeeer!”

-o-

Tobi’s second attempt went better. Watching the compound from a safe distance using the Jibura Super Extender Max Plus 1000 (in a completely ethical and un-spy-like way), he waited until the uncooperative customer left, and then walked up to the compound gates, this time carefully keeping all his telescopes in his pack.

“E-Excuse me!”

After a few seconds, a redheaded woman appeared at the gate. She looked unarmed, which admittedly said nothing given she was probably a ninja, but still made Tobi relax a little.

“Welcome to the home of the Gōketsu Clan,” she said with a warm smile that instantly knocked ten percent off the opening offer. “I am Gōketsu Mari. How can I help you?”

“J-Jibura Tobi, m-ma’am. Would your clan be in n-need of the continent’s finest telescopes?”

“Telescopes, you say?” Lady Gōketsu said thoughtfully. “I suppose my… son did mention having a mild interest in telescopes. How much are they?”

Tobi was steadily regaining his self-control. “For you, Lady Gōketsu, a mere three hundred thousand ryō.”

That gave her pause.

“That seems like a little too much for a rare toy. But I suppose if it’s a present for my family, I might consider fifty thousand.”

There was a twinkle in her eye that stirred Tobi’s very blood as a proud telescope salesman. He could feel the spirit of the Jibura surge through his veins.

“A toy, my lady? This is the most advanced piece of technology on the continent and beyond. Wars are won or lost by inventions such as these! The telescope is the most powerful of magic wands. It makes chakra eagles flap away in shame. It turns watchtowers into invincible guardians of the peace. It makes spycraft trivial, and mocks even your most perceptive foes. If the telescope had existed when the Sage of Six Paths was alive, he might never have needed to invent ninja! In truth, five hundred thousand would be a fraction of its true worth, and I stand amazed at myself for being prepared to sell it to you for half that price.”

Lady Gōketsu considered.

“Is that so? In that case perhaps I shouldn’t buy one after all. It would only be an encouragement for him to go out into danger, and there is so much good he can do here in the village.”

It had to be a haggling trick. Tobi was convinced of it. But the shift in her body language made him think twice. It was as if she'd lost all interest in him all of a sudden, and he could already see her moving to dismiss him.

“I’m sure your husband, the Hokage, would find it interesting!” he exclaimed. “It has countless applications in warfare. Who knows what ideas he might get from studying it? Can you deny that the possibility of greatly increasing Leaf’s military power is worth a pitiful two hundred thousand?”

“My husband’s predecessor was the legendary Professor,” Lady Gōketsu reminded him. “If these telescopes are so worthy of study, I’m sure there must be stacks of them in the Hokage’s Office. Or if there aren’t, that would mean the Third Hokage had examined them and found them beneath his interest.”

The last telescope salesman in Leaf had gone out of business. Tobi should have seen this coming from a mile off.

“But,” she said mercifully, “It might be something for Jiraiya to play around with in his private time. Of course, he doesn’t have much of that as Hokage, and it would mean he’d be spending less time with his family… I suppose I might be able to stretch to seventy-five, but only because it would make him happy.”

Tobi tried hard not to choke. Her idea of a first counter-offer was to go up by twenty-five thousand?

“Impossible,” he shook his head. “My lady, you gravely underestimate the popularity of the telescopes among the elite. Why, if I were to sell it to you for a measly two hundred thousand, I would have all the other clans beating down my door tomorrow morning demanding the same unimaginably low price, and these marvels are in very limited supply. For you, and only for you, would I even consider risking my business like this.”

“Oh?” she said curiously, looking right into his eyes. “And how many have you sold so far?”

Tobi couldn’t lie to a customer, especially not a lie she was in a position to verify. Especially not when she was the wife of the Hokage, who could have him publically flogged (or worse, stripped of the right to trade on Leaf territory) with the wave of a hand.

“I-I have some very promising prospects lined up,” he said, “even if no final agreements have been made.”

“Mmm,” Lady Gōketsu responded. “It seems to me that if the other clans haven’t bought any yet, they must surely have their reasons. I can’t have them looking askance at my husband for bucking the trend. No, it would have to be a trivial enough purchase to be unworthy of their consideration. Fifty thousand after all.”

Tobi blanched.

“Then again,” she went on, “maybe I’m wrong, in which case the Hokage himself buying a telescope for his personal use might stir interest in it among the clans and the general population alike. There are many merchants who would consider fifty thousand ryō a cheap price to pay for that kind of advantage.”

Tobi had changed his mind. This woman was a devil. A devil from the darkest depths of the abyss where the starlight could not reach.

“One hundred thousand, and that’s me jumping in a chakra beast’s maw myself.”

“Seventy-five thousand,” she countered, “and you may refer to yourself as official supplier to the Hokage.”

“Sole supplier.”

“If Jiraiya is satisfied with the product and your workshop can meet his future telescope needs at the same price.”

Tobi suddenly had terrifying visions of being forced to supply the entire Leaf army for seventy-five thousand ryō apiece, and what Grandfather would do to him when he found out.

“For personal use only,” he said quickly.

“Personal and clan use.”

The Hokage’s clan only numbered six people, right? Grandfather would still kill him, but… sole supplier to the Hokage. There was a lot you could build on a foundation like that. Even if it cost him now, generations down the line his descendants would remember Jibura Tobikomi as the man who’d moved Jibura Glassworks out of total obscurity and into the big leagues.

“Done.”

Lady Gōketsu gave him a radiant smile. “Of course,” she said, “only Jiraiya can sign a deal which makes you sole supplier to the Hokage, and I’m afraid he left for Mist yesterday morning. So any agreement made here is completely non-binding.”

Wait. Non-binding. He’d just spent this entire negotiation…

He looked in her eyes. Saw that twinkle there. The realisation hit him like a chakra alligator to the face.

“You never wanted a telescope at all, did you?”

She gave him a “You’ve got me” smile.

“We have other financial priorities right now, and I’m not going to spend that kind of money without the intended owner’s consent. If you like, you can wait for Jiraiya to return and speak to him then.”

“How long?” he asked, feeling the strength drain out of his limbs.

“However long negotiations take. Weeks, I imagine. Or, if you want a quick decision, you could head after him. He’s only just set out, so he should still be in Mist by the time you get there.”

Weeks of waiting in the same place would not only cost Tobi a great deal of potential profit and clash badly with his wanderlust. It would also, quite simply, drive him insane with the uncertainty. Sole supplier to the Hokage. It wasn’t the kind of thing he could let hang in the air.

“Thank you, Lady Gōketsu. I will leave for Hidden Mist straight away.”

Mist was northeast of here, he vaguely remembered, on the other side of the Kaizoku Sea. If he hurried, he should make it in plenty of time. And besides, even if he missed the Hokage, how hard could it be to find Leaf again?