It wasn't the weather, which so far had been nothing but heavy downpours that bothered her. (She just had to ignore how clingy it made her civilian-dress clothing.) Nor was the mission itself that a problem. It was a simple information-gathering mission contracted by village one to collect any useful intelligence on village two. The two villages (both civilian) had been constantly bickering for generations, and village one was paranoid enough, but rich enough, to fork over the pricy fees for the two shinobi Tsunade assured the village representative were perfect.
Kurenai herself as a genjutsu master was pricy. The fact her partner was worth more monetarily didn't bother her; if anything, he had earned the right to be able to ask for so much.
Her partner was none other than Jiraiya. Which still wasn't the worst thing to contend with. (The village representative had been so dazzled by the thought of a Sannin helping that he hadn't balked at the price Jiraiya commanded for when he took missions, which explained the very pleased look on Tsunade's face.)
No, the problem with the mission was the cover story. She and Jiraiya weren't just two people traveling together.
They were posing as a married couple.
Going on vacation.
Someone, somewhere, had to be dying of laughter. Because Kurenai did not subscribe to the ideas of Fate simply because there was nothing she could have done to deserve this.
Pushing her sodden bangs from her face, again, Kurenai let out a sigh in a frustrated huff. She couldn't wait to get to the hotel, where she could take a bath and get out of these cold clothes. "With luck, we'll be there in an hour," she said as her shoes squelched in the mud that was supposed to be a road.