All the World's a Stage - Chapter 21 (Patreon)

“And what did the Kazekage say?”

“He didn’t say anything, yet,” Ondori said, leaning against the bars. “He and Ebizo-sama dismissed me while they discussed it with that… dog.”

Jiki scoffed, folding one leg over the other.

Ondori had visited Jiki again, this time with Ozu. He wanted to talk to someone about what he’d discovered, but the Kazekage had made it clear he needed to keep it secret until he’d reached a decision. So, for lack of anything better to do, he’d gone back to the jail to talk. Ozu had accompanied him half out of curiosity for the letter, half out of a desire to meet Jiki.

“I have a hard time believing a single letter could be so important,” Jiki said. “Especially since you won’t even say what was in it.”

Ondori shrugged helplessly. “I could probably get away with telling Ozu, but I’m pretty sure you’d need to retake your oaths before we even consider cluing you in.”

Jiki hummed. “Why are you even here, then?”

Ondori brightened. “I thought you might like to see my finished work.”

Jiki groaned. “I thought you weren’t allowed to bring a puppet in!”

Ondori pointed a thumb at his friend. “I argued Ozu was enough extra security.”

Ozu smirked. “Yeah, I’m awesome like that.”

Jiki looked him up and down while Ondori dug the seal out of his pocket. She sniffed. “You’re the most generic-looking shinobi I’ve ever seen. And, ew, is that a bald spot?”

Ozu scowled and pulled his hood up. “Listen, there was an accident with an exploding seal, okay? It’ll grow back. You chose to wear pigtails.”

“What’s wrong with pigtails?” Jiki growled warningly.

“You’re supposed to stop wearing them after you turn fourteen, everyone knows that. Only little girls and crazy women wear their hair like that.”

“Lady Chiyo wore her hair in pigtails the other week,” Ondori said absently. Apparently she lost a bet with her brother, or something, Ondori hadn’t asked.

Ozu paused. “Like I said, crazy women.”

Ondori grunted and finally pulled the correct seal out. “I need to clean out my pockets. Or get an apron with more compartments… Anyway. Here she is, presenting the dazzling Miss Piggy!”

There was a small puff of smoke, and the three-foot puppet stood in all her glory.

Jiki’s jaw went slack, which Ondori took as encouraging. “Oh my god.”

The pig struck a pose. “Like what you see? Mm hm hm.~”

Ozu looked away, shoulders shaking. “Stars, Rooster…”

The scaled-down dress Piggy wore would have been tacky if a human wore it, but the lavender silk and the purple scarf hanging from her neck were of… acceptable quality. Ondori never claimed to be a tailor. Elbow-length gloves hid her hands, and she even wore heels.

Jiki was at a loss as to what to comment on first, but after a moment she zeroed in on one detail in particular. “Are those Hime’s pearls?!” she demanded.

Piggy adjusted her scarf to cover the necklace. “No. They are mine. You can look, but don’t touch.”

Jiki reached through the bars and tried to grab Ondori’s collar. He took a step just out of her reach. “How dare you! Those are mine! I found them fair and square!”

“You stole them,” Ozu corrected.

“Details!” Jiki pulled back and folded her arms. “What else did you take from my stash?”

Ozu and Ondori shared a look.

“...Where did you get the silk for that hog’s dress?”

Ondori cleared his throat, because Piggy was rough on his voice, and informed her that Suna had requisitioned her ill-gotten goods. “Most everything that could be liquidated was, but a lot of the materials were given to the Workshop. I got first dibs, since I, ahem, found it.”

Jiki looked away. She asked, in a quiet voice, “Did you happen to keep my pink pearl?”

Ondori smiled. “As it happens.” He had Piggy reach into her purse, and pull out a small box. She handed it off, and Jiki accepted it.

The woman put the necklace on with a sense of reverence. Once it was in place, she visibly relaxed. “Thank you.”

Ondori tilted his head, Piggy mimicking the action. He’d assumed that it was just another thing she’d stolen. “It’s that important to you, huh?”

Jiki nodded, eyes closed. “It’s a reminder.”

Ozu and Ondori leaned in closer. “A reminder of what?” Ozu asked.

“A reminder of when…” Jiki sighed wistfully. “...Of when I had money.”

…

Ozu fell over.

Piggy tossed her head with a huff; if she’d been two feet taller she’d have successfully flicked her hair in Jiki’s face, rather than her waist. “Geez, what a ham.”

“That’s rich coming from you, pork rinds,” Jiki snarked.

Piggy pivoted to face her. “What was that?!”

“You heard me!”

“Ladies, ladies,” Ozu said, smirking. “You’re both almost pretty, let’s not fight.”

His smirk faded a bit when both girls looked at him with murder in their eyes.

“What do you mean almost?” Jiki said dangerously. Suddenly those bars didn’t seem so sturdy.

Piggy didn’t bother with threats. “Hiiiii-YA!”

Piggy chopped her hand into Ozu’s knee, and with a look of surprise he fell. In fact, he swiveled in the air like there was an axle in his belly button, feet completely leaving the ground before gravity asserted itself.

“Sage, Rooster, what is she made of?” Ozu demanded as he stood up, wincing as he bent his knee.

Ondori shrugged. “She’s filled with sand instead of the usual fluff. I have a project in mind and I wanted to test how heavy sand would make a muppet. The answer, as it happens, is very heavy.”

Piggy turned on him now. “It is not polite to refer to mention a lady’s weight.”

Ondori blanched. “No, I just meant you have a lot of heft to throw around--that is, you have a presence to you no one can miss!”

“Oh yeah?”

Jiki and Ozu watched, fascinated for different reasons, as Ondori, in control of the puppet, proceeded to karate chop himself in the balls.

Ondori fell over, wheezing. Despite the ridiculousness of the situation, Jiki couldn’t help but be impressed; despite what must have been great pain he still managed to keep control of the pig, and even made her fold her arms. She could almost hear the piggy snort of derision that Ondori couldn’t make due to trying not to throw up.

Ozu sighed and helped him up. “This is why I, at least, want you to join the crew,” he said to Jiki. “Ondori needs as much supervision as possible.”

“I can see that,” Jiki said flatly. “I still haven’t heard a good reason why I should want to do this.”

“Is getting to leave this cell not enough?”

“At least in here I have dignity!”

Ozu rolled his eyes. “Dignity shmignity! You can hide behind the curtain if you want”

Ondori pulled himself up away form Ozu, looking woozy. “I don’t know why I did that. It was very stupid of me.”

“Yes,” the others both said at the same time.

Ondori dissolved his chakra threads, letting Piggy slump the the floor with a thud. “In all seriousness, Jiki, I think you’d like working the show. Even Lady Chiyo has praised them.”

Jiki didn’t believe him. “Really?” She looked at Ozu, who grimaced and waved his hand in a so-so fashion.

“Well,” Ondori hedged. “I guess it’s better to say she approves of it. The Kazekage seems to like it well enough. He wants me to perform for the visiting nobles during the Chunin Exams.”

Jiki opened her mouth to retort, then stopped. “Visiting nobles?”

“Yeah. Probably not the Wind Daimyo,” he said, “Though I guess he could be coming. I don’t think he usually does though… maybe members of his court though, and well-to-do merchants. You know how the Exams work.”

“And you expect them to be watching your show?”

“They very well might,” Ozu answered, picking up on what Ondori was doing. His friend might be slowly losing his mind but he was smarter than he acted. “After all, it’s a long way through the desert, and it’s better to stay in the village during the two weeks between the second and third exams. There isn’t much else to do in Suna.”

“Did you mention Sawa making progress with the recording seal?” Ondori asked Ozu.

The swordsman brightened. “Yes, he has! That girl Sasori introduced him to, Shinema, helped him figure out how to make the recording longer. We might be able to play music into a seal and then let it loose again during the show so we don’t have to split our focus between playing the instrument and moving the muppets.”

Jiki blinked, confused. “Sorry, what’s this about seals and music?”

“We still need to find a dedicated band,” Ondori said, expression souring. “I don’t have time to practice more than the basics on shamisen and the harp just can’t carry the whole show.” His eyes lit up and he pulled out his notebook. “Maybe I can even make them their own Muppet band--”

Ozu snapped his fingers under Ondori’s nose. “Hey, brainstorm later!”

“Excuse me?” Jiki said, annoyed. “Go back to the important rich people watching you play with puppets!”

“C’mon, Ozu.” Ondori said, just short of whining. “I can write lyrics but I’m awful at the music part.”

“You’re not that bad. And I’m not disagreeing with you about the band, I’m just trying to get you to focus.”

“Focus on me!” Jiki snapped, finally pulling their attention. “If I do your show can I get a spot to show off my porcelain babies?”

Ozu pulled a face. “Why would you make babies out of porcelain? Babies are creepy enough without being chalk-white and glassy-eyed.”

Ondori, who had opened his mouth to say something similar, closed it again with a click. “...I don’t think babies are creepy.”

Jiki groaned, letting her head bang against the bars of her cell. “I don’t deserve this.”

“Don’t worry, Jiki,” Ondori said cheerfully. “There’s so much more to come! Welcome aboard!”

“I take it back. Let me rot in here.”

“Too late! Guard, I need the keys!”

The old monk in the next cell snickered, too quietly to be heard.

-------------------------------------

In his office, surrounded by his close associates, Satoshi opened his eyes. “I believe I am going to accept it.”

Chiyo and Pakura broke off form their argument. Rasa and Ebizo’s discussion likewise came to a halt.

“Satoshi, you can’t be serious!” Chiyo said. “You’re actually taking this seriously?”

“I am. Sarutobi is not wrong about the looming conflict. Tani will be much less likely to attack if it know that its enemies on either side will rise to protect each other.”

Pakura nodded, satisfied. “As much as it pains me to admit it, Konoha is stronger than us. Even if we only get a non-aggression pact, that would be huge for us when war breaks out.”

“Or they could just be setting us up for a surprise attack,” Rasa argued. “They want to send the Toad Sage right into the middle of our village. Kazekage-sama might be able to defeat him, but who knows how much damage he could do before that?”

Ebizo hummed. “On the contrary. Jiraiya is possibly the least suited of the Sannin to fighting us. He favors Water release, last I heard, and his Toads do poorly in the dry heat of the desert. If he tried to start something, he would be at a major disadvantage. I think they’re being sincere.”

Chiyo made a betrayed sound. “Brother, I can’t believe you. Don’t you remember what the Leaf did to us? To our family?”

Ebizo lowered his head. “...I don’t have to forgive the Leaf to work alongside them. If we were being asked to host the Hatake I might say differently, I admit. But I genuinely believe that this is in our best interest.”

“As do I,” the Kazekage affirmed. “Dog.”

Poketto, who had been laying on Satoshi’s desk with her head on her paws, rose to her paws with a yawn. “Finally reached a decision have we? About time.”

Satoshi wrote a letter quickly, dictating it aloud. “I, the Sandaime Kazekage of Hidden Sand, accept the Hokage’s proposal and will allow Jiraiya and his students to participate in our Chunin Exams on a trial basis, on the condition of Jiraiya surrendering all weapons on arrival. His students will be under no such restriction.”

“As if he needs any weapons to cause trouble,” Chiyo muttered.

“It is a symbolic gesture,” Ebizo pointed out.

“Silence. Ahem. Upon completion of the Exams, Jiraiya will act as a temporary ambassador between Sand and Leaf to forge a non-aggression treaty between our villages, and Sand will participate in the Leaf’s own Chunin Exams when next they arrive. All further stipulations are to be negotiated at a later date.” He paused. “Do any of you have a suggestion.”

“Burn the letter and punt the mutt out the window.”

“Your distaste for this is noted, Lady Chiyo, but I will be moving forward regardless. Anyone else?”

Ebizo and Pakura made a few small suggestions. Rasa reluctantly added a stipulation of his own regarding trade of resources. Chiyo folded her arms and stayed silent, glaring daggers at the little terrier. Poketto, for her part, was utterly unimpressed.

When he was finished, the Kazekage slipped the sealed scroll into Poketto’s pouch.

“That’s that then,” she said. “See you all later, maybe.” She vanished in a puff of smoke.

Satoshi sat back, lacing his fingers together on his desk. “These are interesting times we’re living in.” He turned to look out his window. “I wonder what tomorrow will bring.”