The next morning, after a simple breakfast, Shino and I were restless. Hōjō had already left to hunt, as he did every dawn. I looked at Shino and saw the spark of adventure in his eyes. He knew exactly what I was thinking, and before I could say a word, he was already gathering the leftover meat from the previous night into the transport baskets.
"Shall we try again?" I asked, anxious but with a smile forming on my face.
"Yes, and this time, we'll find out if my intuition or yours was right," he replied with a mischievous look.
The path to the village was long, winding through hills covered with trees and cultivated fields. The sun was starting to rise, casting a golden light over the leaves and dirt path. We passed small streams that glistened under the light, and the gentle sound of flowing water reminded us of more peaceful times. No matter how tough life had been in recent years, moments like this brought a sliver of peace. Each step was accompanied by the rustling of leaves and the echo of our own thoughts, which kept us in quiet contemplation.
"Do you think Hōjō will be angry if we come back with the gold pouch?" Shino broke the silence, kicking a stone on the path and glancing at me sideways.
"He's always angry when we make decisions without him," I replied. "But this could help us. We wouldn't need to wait so long to improve our house or buy seeds." My voice held a tone of hope but also apprehension.
Shino nodded in silence. His restlessness wasn't out of disrespect for Hōjō, but from wanting to prove he could make choices that benefited us all. We arrived at the village, which was already bustling with activity. The market stalls were laid out in uneven rows, with merchants calling out to customers, offering everything from fresh vegetables to colorful fabrics. The scent of fresh bread and spices mixed with the smoke from fire pits and the laughter of children running between the stalls.
We found a secluded corner from where we could observe the police station without drawing much attention. It didn't take long for the police captain, with his greying beard and ill-fitted uniform, to come out holding the pouch I had handed over the previous day. He was talking to two men who seemed to be high-ranking officers. They opened the pouch, and from where we stood, I could see the glint of gold coins. The curious glances of passersby were quick, but I knew that gold was something that drew interest.
"Look, they're counting the coins," Shino said, rubbing his hands with excitement, almost trembling with the adrenaline coursing through us.
The men began counting. My mind worked furiously, recalling the weight of the pouch in my hand. I focused, reliving the memory. Each *clink* of the coins made my heart beat faster. In the distance, a dog barked, and I felt a shiver down my spine.
"Two hundred and ninety-eight... two hundred and ninety-nine... three hundred!" one of the officers announced, confirming my estimate. The words echoed like a seal of validation.
"I knew it!" I murmured, a triumphant smile lighting up my face. Shino looked at me with respect, his brown eyes gleaming with a mix of admiration and envy.
"Should we go get it?" he asked. I took a deep breath to keep calm, but my hands were damp with sweat.
We approached cautiously. The captain looked us up and down, suspicion etched on his furrowed brow.
"Can I help you?" he asked, barely hiding his boredom, though his eyes sparked with curiosity when he recognized me.
"We're here to collect the pouch I handed in yesterday. I can prove I know exactly how much was inside," I said firmly, holding my cloak to hide my nerves.
"Ah, so it was you who found it. Very well, girl, how much was in it?" He crossed his arms, expecting me to be wrong, as if it were a riddle.
"Exactly three hundred gold coins," I said without hesitation. The two officers exchanged surprised glances. The murmurs of the crowd around us created a moment of suspense.
"Impressive. And how did you know that?" one of them asked, curiosity mingling with doubt.
"Training," I replied, leaving a touch of mystery in my answer. Shino stifled a smile, clearly proud of how we were handling the situation.
The captain, not wanting to prolong the interaction, handed me the pouch. The weight in my hand felt even more significant now. It was an opportunity to change our circumstances.
Shino and I left the village with quick steps, almost running, our hearts pounding with adrenaline. For a moment, it felt like the eyes of the people were following us, but no one approached. The path back home felt shorter, as if our legs wouldn't stop until we crossed the small clearing where our house stood. The wind caressed our faces, carrying the familiar scent of the forest and the nearby river.
Hōjō was there, as always, sitting cross-legged with the katana in his lap. His serious, keen eyes caught sight of us from a distance. He stood up slowly when he noticed we were carrying more than just the empty baskets.
"What did you do?" His voice was firm, with no need to raise it. The weight of his disapproval was already felt in the intensity of his gaze.
"We found the pouch yesterday and went to claim it today. We knew how much was inside, and no one else had come forward," I explained, holding out the pouch. Hōjō took it, his face impassive, but his eyes sparkled with displeasure. He took a deep breath, his chest swelling as if trying to contain a torrent of words.
"And if someone was watching? If they followed you?" He opened the pouch, looking at the gleaming coins. "This is gold. Gold brings trouble."
"But, brother, with this, we could improve our house, buy everything we need," argued Shino, frustration mixed with hope, his hands clenched into fists.
Hōjō stepped back and closed the pouch abruptly. "Do you think that's all there is to it? That with money everything is solved?" His tone grew harsher. "Don't you understand that our greatest treasure is not being noticed, that our survival depends on it?"
Silence fell like a heavy cloak. Even the sound of the wind through the trees seemed to have stopped. Shino lowered his head, his shoulders slumping, his confidence fading. I felt the heat of shame rise in my cheeks.
Hōjō circled us, his steps firm on the ground. "From now on, don't make decisions like this without me," he said finally, more composed but with a rigidity that made it clear there was no room for argument.
Without another word, he turned and went into the house, leaving us alone in the clearing. The pouch of gold weighed heavier in my mind than in his hands. At that moment, I realized that even with all the gold in the world, Hōjō's trust was something we could not buy.