I held my large video camera, recording the stunning sights around me. I recalled capturing videos of food and landmarks during my travels and felt a sense of longing. It’s often the silliest things that evoke nostalgia, even after all these years. I just wish the camera weren’t as big as a small child, but one cannot be picky.

  The Land of Tea boasted prestigious wilderness and crystal-clear rivers that flowed through the land, fed by the snow-covered peaks of the mountains. In my previous life, this scene would be depicted on the front of a water bottle to illustrate the quality of the water. And then there's the castle along the coastline.

  The castle was truly remarkable. My inner architect scoffed at the idea of it, but safety standards in this world differ from those in my previous one. The castle featured a typical Japanese design with wood, stone, and slanted, stylized roofs. What made this castle unique was the massive schism it sat on the edge of.

  The entire estate was on a cliffside, facing the ocean, but a lightning bolt-shaped crack had damaged the cliff, and the castle was built around that. From my altitude on top of my carpet, I could see that a dock and elevator system had been constructed inside for easier transport. The castle functioned as a warehouse for supplies. Observing the roads leading to and from the castle revealed the kinds of goods that came through here.

  The lack of birds and other animals made it clear that it wasn’t food. Cargo spillage would have attracted the animals, and a whole ecosystem would have developed from it. The roads themselves were nice and shallow. Nothing heavy was transported on them, which meant stone and metals were out of the question, as they would damage any road they were on over time. Third was the fact that this castle belonged to the faction employing the Sand for protection. I’m sure the factions had their nicknames, but even I grew bored trying to learn the politics of the Tea Nation. In my head, I just called them New versus Old money factions. This castle was new money, which meant new technologies, military accomplishments, or luxury goods. This country’s technology was practically in the Bronze Age, and their military sucks, otherwise they wound’t be employing foreign shinobi, which leaves luxury.

  ***

  “Lady Chi, please. Right now, this conflict is tame compared to what it could become. If you just sit with their representatives, give them a list of demands to start negotiations.” Pakura pleaded with a small girl, no older than fourteen.

  “Demands, I insist that my family continue to exist," the girl stomped down the hall. “They want to tax my family into oblivion. They claim this tax is a decree from the crown, yet they themselves aren’t contributing an extra cent. Their aim is to impoverish my family."

  From what I understand, the foreign silk you have been gathering hasn’t been taxed that high to begin with. Now that the last great ninja war is over, they want to incorporate the other noble houses.

  “Incorporate doesn’t imply that my house and others are welcomed at lavish gatherings. Instead, it suggests they want my family to be more obedient to theirs. They will send relatives to supervise my activities, offering 'suggestions'. If I refuse to comply, my taxes will mysteriously rise. As long as I behave and know my place, I can still salvage the scraps they leave behind after feasting on my hard-fought treasures. If they desired greater access to the silk, they should have dispatched their ships to explore and gather it themselves." Chi pivoted sharply to confront Pakura. “They are bullies, envious of my family's achievements. They will only feel fulfilled after they drain every last penny from me and leave me destitute, beaten, and defeated on a dirt road. I hired you to prevent that from happening. If you’re unable to do so, I’m confident another ninja village will.”

  “Speaking of another ninja village,” I say, rounding the corner and revealing my presence.

  “Who are you?”

  “Amon?” The two ladies said at the same time.

  “Got it in one. Lady Chi, you truly seem wise beyond your years, and it’s completely understandable that you want to protect your family from any potential harm. I’m confident that Pakura will appreciate some time to reflect on your discussion, but I would really appreciate a moment of her time to talk about some security concerns.”

  “Security concerns, what security concerns?”

  “Well, the fact that I managed to sneak in here for one.”

  “Amon. Why have you snuck into a secured palace in a country about to break out into full-scale war?”

  “Oh, was I being too subtle with the security concerns comment? Bad guys are coming here to kill people, and I’m here to help... You, I’m here to help you, not them. I would already be doing a terrible job if I were helping them.”

  Pakura turned to face and knelt down in front of Chi. “Lady, please go to your chambers and lock the door. I will be with you shortly, you can count on me.”

  Chi looked at Pakura, and the realization of how dangerous things had gotten finally hit her. With a nod, she turned around and jogged to the stairs leading up to her room.

  Pakura turned to me and scowled. “What are you doing here, Amon, and did you need to show up like that?”

  “Well, I wanted to talk with you alone, and when the little lady threatened to fire you, I knew she couldn’t be that bad. By the way, the Daimyo set my replacement to the Sand. How is that going?”

  “Last I heard, he spends all day at the beach ogling women and drinking smoothies with little umbrellas sticking out of them.”

  “Oh, that’s good, I thought he would be wasting his time.”

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “For whatever reason, you decided to waste mine. I don’t need you here. I’ll order my team to double their rounds. Whoever is coming will find me to be an overly warm host. Maybe you can treat any of my men who gets a boo-boo; they won’t be much left of the enemy once I’m done with them.”

  “Mmm, well, the offers always on the table to kiss your boo-boo away, but I think you are going to need more of my help than that, tho.”

  “Eeww, why do you think I would need your help, of all people?”

  “Because you wrote me a letter, requesting me to sweep you off your feet,” I said, handing over the letter that started this mess. Pakura took the letter from me, not even checking to see if it was trapped, which reassured me that I had won her over enough to trust me.

  Pakura looked over the letter's contents, and I watched her eyes go back and forth over the paper. She looked it over multiple times to decipher the code and then to believe the contents weren’t some sick joke. Then, with rage, she crinkled up the letter and stared daggers at me.

  ***

  “Ow, Ow, OW, woman, would you stop? I didn’t write the bloody thing.” Amon complained as he hopped on one foot while being pushed by Pakura. She held one of his hands uncomfortably, pinned against his back. They marched to the second-floor balcony, which overlooked the courtyard behind the front gate.

  “Did you honestly believe I would ever write something so…so…so pathetic?”

  “Hey, ow, ow, look. If the letter's real, great! I’ll come to the rescue. If not, then you need help anyway. Win-win.”

  “Loser loser. I am a proud Jonin of the Hidden Sand. To even entertain the thought that I would plead for help from the Leaf of all villages. You are lucky I don’t send your withered corpse back home.”

  “Okay, is there anyone reasonable I can talk to here? What about that Chi girl, she seemed friendly.” Suddenly, a thick, pillowy fog rolled in, enveloping a large portion of the castle and courtyard. “Well, that got suddenly eerie.” A sword sprang from the darkness and embedded itself in Amon's chest.

  “Amon! We’re under attack, sound the alarms!” Pakura shouted as she leaped back to the roof, just as shuriken slammed down on the ground where she had been standing.

  Amon fell to his knees, the sword handle protruding from his chest. A figure, dressed in a light blue vest and a white featureless mask adorned with a stylized green wave, suddenly appeared before him. “Please, I’m just here as an envoy. I'll leave.” He pathetically pleaded for his life.

  “Tch,” the assassin clicked his tongue and yanked out his sword, causing Amon to gasp in pain. Blood spilled from him like an uncorked wine barrel. “You always did talk too much.” And with that, the ninja brought his blade down and cut off Amon’s head, the bandages doing nothing against the cold steel of the killer’s blade.

  “What have you done?” Pakura shouted. “He was an emissary from the Leaf; are you trying to start another war?”

  The assassin lifted his red-stained blade, oozing with Amon's blood, and pointed it at Pakura. “The dead need not concern themselves with such matters.”

  Two other assassins threw their ninja stars at Pakura, who quickly dodged and blocked with a kunai, leaping higher up the castle to escape the encroaching fog that climbed the castle like flames on dry wood. Using the decorations as cover, Pakura formed hand signs and then conjured three orbs of fire. With her will, she held them hovering between the attackers and herself.

  A sand ninja leaped from one of the towers overlooking the chasm and joined her higher up on the castle roofs. “Pakura, are you okay?” The man made a hand sign to confirm he was real, and she reciprocated with her own.

  “Yeah, Amon from the Leaf is dead. We will have to retrieve his body. I’ll lead, you cover.”

  The Sand ninja nodded his head in confirmation and got closer while Pakura turned her focus towards the intruders. The three had jumped to the roof just above the balcony where Amon’s body lay, still pouring blood from his headless neck. The blood was overflowing over the edge, causing it to spill like a waterfall onto the front doors of the castle.

  The three looked up at her, unmoving. Pakura readied her stance and caused the three orbs to start rotating in a circle. Pakura leaped to strike at the three killers, but the moment her feet left the ground, the Sand ninja sprang into action and wrapped his arm around her neck. In a panic, Pakura dropped her kunai and grabbed his arm. With a decisive motion, the man plunged his own kunai into her back, where her heart would be. Pakura's mouth opened in pain and shock. The orbs of flame flickered out of existence.

  “Sorry, Pakura, but the village has outgrown you. Blame your own bad luck.” The Sand ninja said, no pity in his voice as he released her from his hold. Pakura stumbled forward, her blood spilling out and causing her to slip and tumble to the ground. Her body hung over the edge, drops of blood falling from her fingertips.

  Pakura's lips moved as if she were trying to say something, but the noise was too low for even the ninjas to hear. The three assassins climbed the tower with the fog trailing behind them. They landed next to her body, her lips still moving, but her eyes had already become unfocused.

  “What is she trying to say?” One of the assassins asked aloud.

  The other assassin leaned forward and placed his head next to Pakura’s to hear her dying last words better. After waiting a few seconds, the man slowly raised his head and tilted it in confusion. “She just keeps saying the same thing over and over again. “And the Oscar goes too.”

  “Who’s Oscar?” the first Assassin asked, prompting everyone else to shrug their shoulders.

  “And Scene!” Pakura shouted. “Okay, guys, I don’t want to be too mean, but you all need a healthy dose of some 'constructive criticism.'” Pakura said as she leaned into a seated position.

  The other four ninjas all leapt back and readied their weapons. “What, how are you alive?”

  “We will get to that, but first.” Pakura made a hand sign and turned into Amon in a puff of smoke. “Ah, better, now I feel closer to myself.” Amon looked at the four ninjas and settled his gaze on the sword user. “Alright, Sword guy. I know you thought you had an easy target, but really, you chucked your sword at me way too early. You are pretending to be a mist ninja; hide in the mist. Do you see mist ninjas chucking their swords around all willy-nilly?”

  “Wait, you could tell?” The swordsmen spoke out in surprise.

  “You could tell?” Amon replied in a mocking tone. “Yeah, buddy, you were way too over-eager. Mist ninjas use their fog to cause confusion and fear, then they strike. They don’t just have a fog cloud near their victims and then strike. It’s called the Village Hidden in the Mist, in, in, it’s not called the Village Hidden near or close by the Mist.”

  The fake mist ninja tightened his hold on his sword. “Doesn’t matter. We will just have to kill you again.”

  “God, you are an over-eager one, aren't you? This leap first, think second mindset is doomed for failure, but sand ninja dude.” Amon pointed to Pakura’s former teammate. The man pointed to himself like an idiot. “Yes, you, take notes from this guy. He’s overly eager, but you were overly cautious. I was practically sashaying my hips to get you to strike. And you two, “What is she trying to say?” Who cares what a dead lady is saying? Unless you think with her dying breath, she is going to reveal the location of buried treasure, it doesn’t matter. And you,” Amon pointed to the man who had listened, “Putting your face and throat so close to a dying ninja's teeth is a great way to retire your services early. Don’t let curiosity be your undoing.”

  The large man, even with his mask, looked ashamed at being chastised. The Sand ANBU ninja that was disguised as a Mist ANBU ninja had had enough of listening to Amon's critique of their assassination attempt and decided that the mindset, “At first you don’t succeed, try, try again,” was applicable in this situation. He struck out with his sword, which went flying over the edge when it slipped out of his hands.

  “What, how?”

  “Oh, I don’t have all day, but that wasn’t real blood gushing out of me like a samurai film earlier. The stuff is super poisonous and slippery.” All the ninjas looked down and saw that they were all splattered with the fake blood. “Yeah, it’s like glitter, the stuff gets everywhere.”

  “So you are trying to take us down with you. It won’t work; we have received training from Lady Chiyo herself. Your poison won’t kill us.”

  “Wasn’t made too. Lady Chiyo designs her poison for lethality; most ninjas do. I don’t. No, no, I’m much worse. You all are about to become… super drunk.”

  “Drunk? That’s it?”

  “Really hard to perform jutsus when you’re sloshed, or fight, or walk in a straight line. Also, one benefit of my poison is memory loss. See, right now, your brains are not making any short-term memories. You guys aren’t going to remember any of this.” Amon rose from the ground in a way that told the assassins they were in trouble. “Which, now that I think about it, I have been needing an excuse to show off how quote-end-quote 'powerful' a shinobi I am. You guys don’t mind if I take advantage of you while you're inebriated, do you?” Amon asked, but it wasn’t a real question.