The demand at the bottom of the pile of correspondence was the last piece of paper Saki dealt with as part of the morning work. While war and troop movement were no longer the focus the routine wasn't that different. Reports, requests, problems, solutions. And the ability to share the workload because most of what was being done did not need to be kept secret. Usually with her, Masamune, Kojuro and Wakasa crowding the shelf-walled room the work flowed smoothly. With her Dragon away in Kyushu there were a few documents that were given a brief read and placed to the side. And with Kojuro shirking office duty that day in favour of harvesting he was also getting a dedicated pile. Wakasa, thin and scholarly, working fast and smiling as if he actually enjoyed the bureaucracy verified each pile and appraised if some of the documents could not be dealt with by him. More often than not the answer was yes and they only waited the signature of someone in charge. Depending on the request's weight and area it was then provided.

Something about the phrasing was off. Saki frowned, catching the oddity while distilling the basics of the request, paper unfolded in front of her, the precise lettering and words not looking any different than hundreds before it. Yet... when put together, when compared with other letters of the same nature…

As Saki reread, guided by instinct, she stopped the colourful temari as it flew by her arm, the bells inside rattling. Kazuya halted his wobbly toddling after the toy, laughing, flopping on his padded bottom, reaching for it with small hands.

"Wakasa can you call Katakura-dono please?" She asked softly.

Wakasa looked up, blinking, refocusing before nodding and retreating, tousling Kazuya's hair on the way out, his hand gripped by the child playfully, leaving ink stains on his little fingers.

Gently she tossed the toy back, watching as Kazuya caught it. His reflexes seemed good and the grip was steady even if he was still a very bad thrower. But that was age-related. Training had barely started as well. at least the one related to his shinobi heritage. It would not be too harsh, as that was not his path but a future ruler with a mild poison resistance and abilities to be sneaky and flexible seemed a good plan.

Kojuro didn't take long to appear, wearing casual clothes, already dirt-stained. He still enjoyed the routine of agriculture and his little vegetable patch. It was still a way to be close to the people and know what was truly needed. Good decisions were made on what could be found out in the fields. He made an habit of doing that visit to crops and farmers when accompanying Date or working as an emissary.

Wakasa didn't return. Most likely he believed whatever needed to be discussed needed to be private first. He would be right if Kojuro noticed or felt as she did after reading the request. It was not often she called on anyone that way either.

"Anything wrong?" He asked directly, pulling away the fabric around his head, seating heavily, grunting with relief, smiling at Kazuya's attempt to say his name, taking a moment to play with the child. His toss was very gentle, unfit for his arm. Saki shook her head a bit, amused. Kojuro still held the «too young» belief even though he tended to lecture the child when he was up to some mischief. Of course the kind of training that would turn a boy into a samurai was tailored for an older child so Saki said nothing of it.

"Read this and tell me what you see." The shinobi asked after he settled. Kazuya sat down, little chubby legs kicking the tatami and tossed the ball to the air, staring up, following as it fell, trying to catch it without leaving his spot. Excited giggling followed each toss.

It took a moment as Kojuro focused and turned his mind to serious paperwork.

"It seems fairly ordinary and yet..." Bandit troubles after a weather disaster were common. Food shortage, isolated villages, difficult access, frightened people… the unscrupulous and greedy would not hesitate to profiteer out of such a scenario. But the way he was describing the attacks, the thefts, who had been stolen from, where the attacks had taken place... something was off. Details were either too controlled or sketchy making it difficult, if not impossible to correctly measure the forces of what would be an enemy and how much of their own resources and men should be used to answer. It was too carefully constructed even for a formal request. And comparisons with three other letters Saki had spread on the table only seemed to highlight that discrepancy.

"Hikawa Sojiro. Small rural province lord. Recently inherited the title from his uncle." Saki smiled a bit, happy that she was not the only one seeing it even if Kojuro had no previous knowledge to generate suspicion other than being asked to read. She stood up, straightening her kimono and was selecting documents and reports from the shelves, organizing them by relevance.

"Hikawa Kinshiro was the one who signed the peace agreements." The surname brought memories. He recalled the old man always followed by a younger warrior. True to his memory the signature was there, a bit shaky but unmistakable.

"Sojiro was the one present in most of the negotiations." Saki nodded, encouraging, returning with another armful of papers. "And he slowly ascended from a simple samurai to a lord's heir in the war. As I'm finding out through a series of events that at first sight were unrelated, banal even. Their blood relation was tenuous but through deeds and convenience it created a much greater claim."

"You suspect something more?" Foul play at best. Treason at worst. Kojuro considered. It was enough cause for alarm, true.

"After this... yes." Saki answered. Digging through the archives in those few moments, as Kojuro read and pondered had provided enough support to her sudden suspicions of past misdeeds. But they also needed to focus on the present.

Kazuya fell on his bottom when he tried to chase the jingling temari and his eyes watered, lips trembling in the start of a cry. Kojuro turned, ready to go to the boy's aid. The kunoichi shook her head, looking calm, tapping the Right Eye's thing, instilling tranquillity. The child looked from one to the other, seeing no sign of alarm. And he decided a sore bum was not worth making a fuss, sniffing away the weepy look, turning and crawling to the temari, bottom waggling. He was still faster that way.

"Coincidences should not happen too often." She continued as the tantrum threat passed.

"I see..." Kojuro settled. "Are you sending aid?"

"I need to see who this man truly is and if the bandits are thugs or more." Saki sighed. "Would you mind masquerading as a ronin and investigating for me?" This Sojiro could be a threat or he could just be minor corruption. He could be just a good lord in suspicious circumstances that were actually harmless twists of fate. But nevertheless they had to be sure.

Masamune was away so Saki had to be present and seen in Oshu.

The Saica were spread throughout the coast.

The army was spread throughout the land.

Sending the shinobi would be done but they would not provide all the information they needed to make the best decision.

Sending any of the powers they controlled against the bandits would be seen as support. Sending them for an investigation would generate complaints and rumours.

Sending a ronin seeking to prove himself and gain a new lord was neither full support nor threat nor suspicious.

Sojiro would be happy for the backup and perceived trust on his own retainer's prowess and Saki could stall the decisions until Kojuro found whatever was truly happening.