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Chapter 33 Informative bathtime
🕑 Added 2025-06-09 02:00:05 +0000 UTCThe camp offered everything we could need, and after dismissing the others, I went to get myself a proper bath and a change of clothes.
Shinobi were a funny sort, warriors from a young age, mighty superhuman beings that could do semi-magic.
They could be anything, do anything, yet they lived by some strange rules. Keeping away from drinking, gambling, and sex. Or at least that was the idea. I had sat through plenty of lessons telling me that, and assumed that the Academy did the same, yet in reality, it wasn’t quite all that.
Sure, publicly, people kept away from that. But in reality, plenty of people ended up falling for one of those three. Gambling was very popular, though it was often just small amounts. And from my understanding, it was often about training deception and tricks.
After all, cheating in card games could be used to train all kinds of little things, sleight of hand and perception were among the biggest.
Drinking was also fairly common, and the brothel business was booming. Everyone knew it, everyone ignored it.
Everyone just pretended that each and every shinobi never sinned. Which meant that a war camp like this had its own female quarters, a place where kunoichi slept, hung out, and bathed.
That place, was my destination.
I wove my way through the camp, boots squelching against the churned earth. The air hung heavy, thick with the scents of sweat, steel, and smoldering firewood.
The kunoichi quarters were sectioned off by tight rows of low earthen walls, just tall enough to offer a semblance of privacy. Two guards lounged by the entrance, arms crossed, eyes sharp. One of them, a woman with a scar cutting down her cheek, glanced my way. She said nothing, just tilted her head in a silent acknowledgment as I passed.
Inside, the air grew warmer, dense with steam. Low voices murmured beyond the cloth partitions, the splash of water and the soft clink of metal against ceramic drifting through the haze.
A row of hanging yukata swayed gently, their bright patterns a stark contrast to the mud-streaked boots and blood-stiffened gear piled beside them. It felt strange – delicate colors and flowing fabric, just a thin wall away from the chaos outside.
I found an unoccupied corner near the back, where a wooden tub steamed gently. Stripping off my dirt-caked clothes, I let them drop in a heap. The tub creaked as I sank in.
It had only been less than two days since I left home, but damn, even one day out here was terrible. I quickly washed up before making my way into the larger communal bath, letting the warm waters soothe me.
Life in the Hyūga Clan wasn’t bad, but general shinobi life wasn’t really agreeing with me. I was a Goddess, and a noble member of the Ōtsutsuki clan.
Rolling in the mud was beneath me. However, I couldn’t disagree with the fact that it was effective. While still weak, I was able to use that meagre strength effectively. It was all worth it.
“New here?” Another voice asked, as the person I had sensed entering the waters moments ago spoke.
I cracked an eye open, my senses already telling me that it was a fellow kunoichi approaching. She was tall, her lean, muscular frame outlined by the steam swirling around us. Her blond hair was twisted up, a few loose strands clinging to her damp skin.
“Yes,” I replied, my tone neutral but not unfriendly, sinking deeper into the steaming water. “Just arrived with my team a bit ago.”
She let out a low hum, “You here to join the sensor team? Those damned puppeteers are very good at hiding, and their poisons are deadly, even with Lady Tsunade’s antidotes.”
“Afraid not, just stopping by for a bath and a good sleep before setting out on a different mission, I do envy you guys, able to rest here during the nights.” I really was envious.
I would be spending time running around the Land of Rivers for months, sleeping in trees or under rocks.
The woman chuckled, a rough, throaty sound that echoed off the steam-wreathed walls. “Rest? You think we get to rest here? The medics might, and maybe the logistics teams, but anyone on the front lines barely gets a wink.
I’ve been out six times this past week alone, and each time we come back with fewer faces.” She leaned back, the water rippling around her, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she could still see the blood and chaos of battle through the mist.”
“Please,” I fired back, “I will be spending the next few months behind enemy lines, I will be lucky if I even get to close my eyes six times in a month.”
The woman snorted, her lips curling into a wry, battle-hardened smile. “You’ll fit right in, then. Just remember to keep a kunai under your pillow… or not, I doubt you will be using one.” She joked.
“Ha, ha, very funny, I would be laughing if it wasn’t because it’s the truth, I will be lucky if I find a soft enough rock.” I joked back, there was no point in getting angry when she was just telling the truth.
“So, any chance you got any intel about the situation here? I could use everything, never been to River before.” I decided to shift the topic, after all, I might as well gather some information while I can.
The woman’s chuckle deepened, a sound like gravel grinding underfoot. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees, the steam swirling around her like a ghostly cloak. “First time, huh? You’ve got your work cut out for you. The whole region’s a damn death trap. Swamps, thick forests, and worse – the rivers themselves. Fast, cold, and full of silt that’ll choke you out if you slip up. And that’s before you get to the shinobi.”
She stretched, the long, corded muscles of her back flexing beneath the thin sheen of water. “Suna’s been getting desperate. They’ve been pushing hard, sending in smaller strike teams to harass our supply lines and sabotage the few bridges we’ve managed to hold. But the real threat is the puppeteers.”
Those just so happened to be the main target I was after, so I listened closely to her next words.
“They got these nasty human puppets, not real humans, but they look like them. So you think you found a squad of Suna bastards, but no, it's just a few puppets. You attack, and they spray out needles like they got an expiration date; every single one dripping with poison.” She spat.
She shook her head, a shadow crossing her face. “And then there are the traps. They like to lace their wires with poison or rig entire riverbanks with hidden explosives. They’re creative bastards, I’ll give them that.”
I filed the information away, my mind already mapping potential strategies. It was nothing I hadn’t expected, but hearing it confirmed from someone on the ground made it all the more real.
The Byakugan could help find the puppet users, so I didn’t have to worry about those tricks. The seals… they had to be detonated somehow, and that meant chakra, and the Byakugan could see that.
The one thing I couldn’t easily deal with was hidden wires. The Byakugan was great, but they weren’t as good at spotting such things as the Sharingan. Add chakra to anything, and the Byakugan is king, but without that? There are limits to what we can see in the dark.
Thankfully, we had other means of finding those traps, mainly Koji and Kuro, whose sharp senses should be able to sniff out the poison.
I leaned back, letting the warmth of the bath seep into my bones as I considered the new information. Suna’s reliance on puppet tactics wasn’t surprising, but the use of human-like puppets was a twist.
It made sense – human puppets could serve as perfect bait, drawing in unsuspecting shinobi before unleashing a barrage of poison-tipped traps. It was an efficient, if brutal, method of thinning enemy numbers.
Furthermore, they were likely the brainchild of Sasori, who mastered human puppets. I wasn’t entirely sure if he had killed the Kazekage just yet, but if not, it was bound to happen soon.
In fact, the recent rise in aggression could be explained by him going missing. And would make the war enter the final and most brutal stage soon.
“I take it you’ve run into those puppets before?” I asked, my tone casual, but my eyes sharp, tracing the fine lines of old scars on her exposed arms and shoulders. She didn’t flinch under my scrutiny, just let out a slow, bitter breath, her eyes hardening.
“Yeah,” she muttered, one hand coming up to trace a thin, pale line running from her collarbone to her shoulder. “Lost a good friend to one of those bastards. We thought we had them surrounded, a nice little ambush by the river. Then the wires snapped tight, and the damn thing exploded in a cloud of poisoned needles.”
“He got pumped full of so much poison he didn’t even last a minute.” She closed her eyes for a moment, the steam curling around her like ghostly fingers. “We burned his body afterward. Couldn’t risk the poison spreading.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I said quietly, my fingers tracing idle patterns in the water. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
The woman grunted, her head tilting back against the rough wooden edge of the tub, eyes slipping closed as if willing the memories away. “Just remember, out there, everyone’s a potential enemy. Don’t let your guard down, even for a second. Keep your antidotes close at hand.”
With that, she pushed herself to her feet, water cascading off her muscular frame as she reached for a rough, threadbare towel. She shot me one last, hard glance over her shoulder, her dark eyes flicking over my relaxed posture with something approaching approval. “Watch your back, Hyūga. The Land of Rivers swallows the overconfident and the unprepared alike.”
I took a deep, steadying breath, letting the heat soak into my muscles one last time before reluctantly dragging myself upright. I reached for a clean yukata, slipping the thin, soft fabric over my damp skin before stepping out of the bath.
The air outside the bathing quarters was sharp and cool against my damp skin, the evening chill cutting through the thin yukata I had wrapped around myself. I shivered slightly, the sensation unfamiliar after the intense heat of the bath, my still-wet hair clinging to the back of my neck.
I made my way toward the nearest bonfire, its roaring flames crackling and snapping, casting long, flickering shadows across the muddy, trampled ground. Shinobi clustered around it in small groups.
I found a spot on a low, makeshift log bench. The rough wood was cold and unyielding against my thighs as I sank down, stretching my legs out toward the fire. My skin tingled as the heat licked at me, steam rising faintly from my still-damp hair and shoulders. The firelight cast long, flickering shadows that danced across my bare legs and the thin, white fabric of my yukata.
Footsteps crunched against the dirt behind me, and I felt a familiar chakra signature approaching. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was – the heavy, confident stride, the faint scent of dog fur and crushed leaves, the quiet, almost lazy pulse of chakra.
“Yuki,” Koji’s deep, gravelly voice rumbled as he stepped into the firelight, his silhouette towering above me for a moment before he dropped down onto the log beside me. He had a pair of metal food trays balanced in one hand, the other holding a small, sloshing metal canteen. He set one of the trays in front of me, the contents steaming faintly.
“Thought you might be hungry,” he said, his sharp, wolfish grin flashing in the firelight. “Figured you’d be too busy glaring at the fire to remember to eat.”
I let out a small, amused huff, my lips quirking into a faint smile as I glanced down at the tray. It held a slab of grilled meat, a small pile of rice, and a few charred vegetables, the meager rations of a war camp, but still a welcome change from the travel rations we’d been living on for the past few days.
“Thanks,” I said, picking up a pair of wooden chopsticks from the tray’s edge, my fingers still slightly wrinkled from the bathwater.
“I’m surprised there is any meat left in camp after you and Kuro had your fill.” I joked lightly as Kuro sat next to us. And I quickly had to lift up the tray as Kuro lay his head in my lap.
Koji snorted, ripping into his own meal with a sharp, canine enthusiasm, the firelight catching on his fangs as he chewed. “With how much Kuro likes you, I wouldn’t dare do that.”
(End of chapter)
Always listen to the wisdom of strangers in the bath, they can’t lie, because they must speak the naked truth… get it? naked?... Damn, so hard to please.
