As Sayuri continues on down the quieter street, she begins to notice that the few lanterns that were lit are beginning to get put out. Not that it bothers her, she's grown accustomed to the darkness, she's even learned to love it. Her whole life has been swallowed by it, and she doesn't mind. Not anymore.
The rain came to a full stop now, leaving behind a cold, dead sort of air that Sayuri takes the time to revel in. She can't explain it, usually she tells herself that she just likes being different, but maybe, maybe she really is. Maybe she doesn't have to convince herself.
As Sayuri continues down the road, she hears heavy footsteps behind her. She freezes. It can't be her brothers, or any ninja, for that matter, they typically prefer to travel by roof. They only came down when necessary. Besides, this person, by their heavy, odd-sounding footsteps, sounds drunk.
Sayuri turns around, and just one look confirms her suspicions: A man, about her height, with shaggy hair, a dark coat, and a bottle of sake in his hand, is stumbling towards her.
She's still a good distance away, and still close to the wall, she can easily get away. She quickly turns and starts speed-walking.
How he saw her, she can only guess. Or maybe she just really sucks at camouflage. Maybe she's not as good as she thought. If she can't hide from a drunkard, how can she ever hope to hide from her brothers?
"Oi! You!" The man calls in a raspy voice.
Sayuri doesn't dare look back. She curses under her breath. Now, every ninja, even the enemy clans, could find her thanks to this oaf's loud mouth. She quickened her pace and crossed the street, taking a sharp left turn on the other side. She then crossed again and ducked into an alley on the right and stood still. She leaned back against the hard wall, waiting. The man stumbles onto the street. Silence follows, and Sayuri begins to put weight on her legs again in case she has to keep going, but the man's footsteps recede into the street from whence he came.
Sighing, Sayuri smiles to herself, and begins walking down this new alleyway. A small, troubling thought occurs to her: she has no idea where she is. She would have gone back the way she came, had she not been so afraid of the drunken man, had she taken note of how many turns she made and where, and had she not desired so greatly to avoid the crowded street.
Maybe it won't be crowded later, and maybe the man won't be there, either, she thinks. Thus, she decides she'll turn back later, she can probably still make it home before her father. Suddenly a strange, invisible weight lands on her shoulders. It seeps into her chest and drips into her stomach, invading her whole body until her legs feel like lead and she stops. She knows that weight, she'd felt it many times before, thanks to her brothers.
It was the weight of a pair of eyes.
